Townhome Builder

My grandfather left a ruler. The body of the ruler is as smooth as new and engraved with strange symbols, but a third is missing and the fracture is rough, as if it was broken by a force. My grandfather used it to measure houses all his life, measuring beams, columns, thresholds, and foundations. But he said that the ruler did not measure the size, but measured things that should not exist in the house. Some are sealed inside beams, some are hidden inside walls, and some are pressed under thresholds. They all have the same name - victory-hating. The good ones are tired of winning and can make their homes stable, while the bad ones are tired of winning and can kill people. My grandfather was the last carpenter in western Hunan who had seriously learned Luban Shu. He left something behind in every house he passed through, some to protect, some to block. Then he disappeared for three years! No body, no suicide note, no farewell, only this broken ruler and a wooden dove hidden in the main beam of the old house. The base of the wooden dove is engraved with his name and a line of words: Don't move. He couldn't help but move. From that day on, his fingers began to grow wood grains, like growth rings, expanding outward from the base of the nails. The joints are stiff on a rainy day, like a piece of dried wood. And something in the walls was whispering, breathing, heaving. He can hear it. He must find the missing third of the ruler. Before his body became completely wooden.