Folklore and Strange Tales: At the Start, You Retrieve the Sea-Suppressing Black Iron

When Cheng Xiaojin arrived early the next morning, Tieguai Li was already filing a piece of iron in a bench vise.

"Old Li, are we getting started already?"

"It was opened last night, take a look."

Tieguai Li pulled out a piece of something wrapped in newspaper from under the worktable. Unwrapping the newspaper, he found a lump of iron inside, about the same size and shape as Zhenhai Iron, with a rough surface covered in a layer of dusty new rust.

Cheng Xiaojin weighed it in his hand.

"The weight is about the same, but it's a little lighter than the genuine product."

"It weighs two ounces less. The material of the old iron pot from the Qing Dynasty is looser than that of the refined iron from the Ming Dynasty. The density is different. I added a small piece of lead in the middle to make up for the weight, but it is still a little bit less."

Is that enough?

"You said you don't need to authenticate it, as long as the shape and weight match, that's enough. If you just touch it through the black cloth and take a look, nine and a half out of ten people will believe it."

Cheng Xiaojin flipped the iron lump over and looked at the bottom.

"Don't mark it, just leave it plain."

"I know, this thing is just bait. Marking it would only give it away."

Tieguai Li took the iron lump and continued to trim the edges, the file making a squeaking sound on the iron surface.

"Is your Murray ready?"

Tieguai Li gestured with his mouth towards an iron box on the left side of the workbench.

"Take a look."

Cheng Xiaojin picked it up and opened it. Inside was an old-fashioned spring pencil case. The spring in the pencil case had been modified by Tieguai Li, and the elasticity had been increased by more than three times. A thin iron sheet was welded inside the lid, forming a sealed interlayer space between the interlayer and the bottom of the box.

"The ink is poured into this interlayer, and after the lid is closed, the spring presses it down. Once the spring is triggered, the lid pops open, and the ink in the interlayer sprays outward by the elastic force, covering an area of ​​about one meter."

"How do I trigger it?"

Tieguai Li pulled a roll of thin wire from the pile of tools.

"The pencil case was placed at the very back of the drawer. One end of a wire was tied to the lock on the pencil case, and the other end was tied to a nail on the bottom of the drawer. When the drawer was pulled open more than three inches, the wire taut, the lock popped open, and ink sprayed all over my face."

"Pine soot ink?"

"Yes, it's well-ground and thick. It's so thick that it's impossible to wash off clothes, and it takes at least three days for the color to fade from your hands. If someone goes through your drawer, you can tell just by looking at their hands."

Cheng Xiaojin patted Tieguai Li on the shoulder.

"Old Li, if you had kept that brain of yours in the army back then, you could at least have become a technical squad leader."

"Technical foreman my ass. I used to repair radar. I could do this triggering mechanism with my eyes closed."

Tieguai Li finished filing down the edges of the iron lump, sanded it, and then wiped it with a cloth dampened with machine oil. It looked much older now.

"Alright, take it."

Cheng Xiaojin wrapped it up again with newspaper, then wrapped it in a piece of black cloth and stuffed it into the canvas bag.

"I'm going back to my rented apartment this afternoon to set things up. Could you bring Murray with you?"

"Are you going back alone?"

"Those people downstairs won't make a move during the day. They're waiting for me to come out so they can sneak in. I need to make them confirm that the things are inside."

Tieguai Li put the pencil case and wire into a tool bag and handed it to him.

"Be careful, I've tripled the force on that spring, don't be so impulsive as to flick it yourself."

Don't worry.

Cheng Xiaojin took the tool bag and walked out, but turned back at the door.

"Old Li, there's something else I need to ask you."

"explain."

"How many times have you seen my grandfather's camphor wood chest?"

"You've seen me four or five times since you moved to Panjiayuan, right? What's wrong?"

Did you know that the box has a fake bottom?

Tieguai Li tightened the vise and looked up at him.

"What fake bottom?"

"Last night, when I was rummaging through my box looking for something, I found that the bottom was almost an inch thicker than it looked from the outside. When I scratched it with my fingernail, I found another layer underneath the bottom, and there was an abacus in the interlayer."

"What abacus?"

"The wooden frame is blackened with scorch marks, as if it had been burned. The beads are made of iron, and there is rust on them, but the rust color is very even. It doesn't look like rust that has been left to rot; it looks like it has been deliberately nurtured."

Tieguai Li put down the file in his hand and wiped his hands on his apron.

"Something your grandfather kept hidden away?"

"It should be. I went through all the records in my notes and there was no mention of this abacus. He hid it very well and even made a fake one."

"Did you take a picture?"

"I took the picture and sent it to Mr. Ma, but he hasn't replied yet."

Tieguai Li thought for a moment.

"I've been repairing clocks and watches for over ten years and have traveled to so many places, but I've only seen an abacus with iron beads once. It was in the home of an old blacksmith in Shanxi. The old man said it was from the late Qing Dynasty and early Republic of China period. It's called an iron abacus and it's used for not doing accounting."

"What's the point of keeping accounts?"

"The old man didn't explain clearly, he just said one thing: 'Iron-willed man, he can't do ordinary accounting, he can only do accounting involving human lives.'"

"Fight to the death?"

"Don't ask me, I don't understand either. Just wait for Master Ma's reply."

Cheng Xiaojin didn't ask any more questions and left Tieguai Li's studio with her canvas bag on her back.

At 2 p.m., he returned to his rented room in Fengtai.

The area downstairs was quiet; the Jinbei van was not there, and there were no unfamiliar faces at the entrance of the building.

He went up to the fourth floor and first checked the tape on the door seams; it was intact.

I opened the door and went inside. The windows were locked, there were no new marks on the windowsill, and the sandalwood scent had dissipated.

Cheng Xiaojin took the counterfeit goods out of the canvas bag, wrapped them in black cloth, and stuffed them into the innermost part of the second drawer of the bedside table.

Then he crouched down at Bumerai.

Place the pencil case in front of the counterfeit, with the latch facing outwards. Tie one end of the wire to the small ring of the latch, and loop the other end around a small nail nailed to the bottom of the drawer. Pull it to the length that is just right so that it does not trigger.

He tried pulling the drawer; when he pulled it three inches, the wire tightened, and when he pulled it another half inch, the latch popped open.

Close the drawer.

Next to it was an old edition of the Five Geography Secrets, which I bought from a street stall for five yuan. The cover was worn and frayed, making it look quite impressive.

After finishing the arrangement, he walked around the room again.

The camphor wood chest was placed in the corner.

He squatted down, opened the lid of the box, and pried off the fake bottom layer.

The abacus under the oiled paper is still in its original place.

The wooden frame was indeed blackened, with obvious scorch marks on the edges, as if it had been snatched from a fire.

The iron beads were arranged neatly, each covered with a layer of dark red rust. The rust was so evenly distributed that it looked unnatural, somewhat similar to the rust-making techniques of Tieguai Li.

Cheng Xiaojin didn't touch it. He covered the fake bottom, closed the lid, and draped a new strand of hair over the buckle.

At six o'clock in the evening, he rode his bicycle to Huguosi Street.

Tong Kexin set up her makeshift stove in front of Aunt Zhang's house. A borrowed iron pot was bubbling away, and the aroma of braised food wafted far and wide through the alley.

"You're here? Are you here for lunch or something?"

"Eat your meal, a big bowl, with extra frozen tofu."

Tong Kexin stirred the bottom of the pot with a large spoon and served him a bowl overflowing with braised pork.

Cheng Xiaojin was squatting on the steps with a bowl in his hand, slurping his food. After taking two bites, Tong Kexin grabbed his arm.

"Is the wound on your elbow still wrapped with the gauze from last time?"

"It's okay, it doesn't hurt anymore."

"let me see."

Without a word, Tong Kexin rolled up his sleeves. The cotton gauze was already filthy and grayish, with a little pale yellow seepage around the edges.

"Cheng Xiaojin, are you out of your mind? This is showing signs of infection, and you still haven't changed the dressing?"

"I was busy, I forgot."

Tong Kexin turned around and went into Aunt Zhang's house. She took out iodine and clean gauze, squatted down in front of him, and took off the old cotton gauze. The wound was indeed a little red but not infected. She wiped it twice with an iodine-soaked cotton ball, wrapped the gauze three times again, and tied a knot.

"Does it hurt?"

"pain."

"Then say something! Keep your head down like you're mute."

"If I speak up, you'll probably call me dramatic again."

Tong Kexin squatted down in front of him and placed the iodine bottle in front of him.

"Take this and wipe it again yourself tomorrow. Come back the day after tomorrow to have the gauze changed."

Cheng Xiaojin put the iodine solution into his pocket, picked up his bowl, and continued eating his braised pork.

Tong Kexin was brushing the oil stains off the edge of the pot, but stopped after a couple of strokes.

"Have you been busy with something lately?"

"I'm busy all the time."

"I'm asking you something serious, so answer honestly."

"It's nothing serious, it's just that Fatty Sun's side is still causing trouble, so I have to keep an eye on him."

"That's all?"

That's all.

Tong Kexin glanced at him but didn't ask any more questions.

After Cheng Xiaojin finished eating the braised pork, he rinsed the bowl and returned it to her. On his way back to his rented room on his bike, his phone rang.

News about Master Ma.

He gripped the handlebars and started the bike with one hand.

"Don't touch the abacus yet. That's your grandfather's most treasured possession. Don't take it out unless absolutely necessary."

Cheng Xiaojin stared at this message for a long time.

What things should only be used as a last resort?