Phoenix Attacking Dragon

Qin Yanan's upbringing had taught her to maintain a polite demeanor even when she found something utterly absurd and contemptible. Still, the distant indifference she felt inevitably showed in her eyes and brows.

She had agreed to come see him at her great-grandfather's request, but the young man before her was unquestionably repugnant to her... Disappointment was not what she felt; disappointment required expectations, and Qin Yanan had never expected anything.

Putting on airs of maturity, speaking frivolously—he knew who her great-grandfather Qin Peng was, yet still dared to claim they had been old friends. What utter brazenness.

Most people who could be called old friends by Qin Peng had already passed away and been laid to rest at Babaoshan. Those still alive had witnessed the Republic's turbulent revolutionary history. The younger ones could only call themselves juniors in Qin Peng's presence, and those "juniors" made up the core of Huaxia today.

A parcel had been sent from Junsha yesterday. It arrived at the Qin family's old residence that evening and was immediately brought to her great-grandfather. On his one-hundred-and-tenth birthday, Qin Yanan had naturally stayed by his side. She had been in his study when she saw her father solemnly open the parcel for him.

"An immortal strokes my head; my hair is tied, and I receive longevity."

The parcel contained a piece of calligraphy bearing just that one line of poetry, taken from Li Bai's "After the Rebellion, I Was Pardoned and Sent to Yelang; Recalling My Old Travels, I Write to the Prefect of Jiangxia, Liang Zai."

It was an excellent piece of calligraphy. Qin Yanan could tell that much. Even by her standards, the calligrapher was clearly a master of the art, with skill rarely seen among contemporary calligraphers. Set beside other masterpieces across the history of calligraphy, it would have held its own.

But her father and great-grandfather were evidently more discerning and authoritative than she was. Her father's astonished gaze had probably only shone like that once before, when he examined the Tang Dynasty copy of the Lantingji Preface in the Xiangnan Museum's collection. As for her great-grandfather, after showing his excitement, he offered just four words in praise: "Utterly ethereal."

A piece of calligraphy could be utterly ethereal? To earn such praise, it had to express a lofty, unworldly realm, untouched by the vulgarities of mortal life.

How could an ordinary person be free of worldly concerns? Unless the calligrapher was an immortal.

There was no signature on the piece. Her father asked about it, but her great-grandfather said nothing. Then he asked Qin Yanan to stay behind and gave her some instructions in private.

Qin Yanan thought her great-grandfather's instructions must have something to do with the calligraphy. If so, they concerned Liu Chang'an, who stood before her now. But what did Liu Chang'an have to do with that piece?

It had never occurred to Qin Yanan that the calligraphy might be Liu Chang'an's work. Even if he had practiced calligraphy from birth, he could never have attained that level of skill, much less the state of mind and character reflected in the writing. After turning the matter over in her mind, she decided Liu Chang'an must have some connection to the master who had written it. There was no other reason for her to cross paths with such an unremarkable young man.

At Liu Chang'an's claim that they were "old friends," the ripples in Qin Yanan's heart settled. She smiled again. "My great-grandfather has a gift for you."

That was one of the reasons she had come. Qin Yanan pointed to the cargo compartment of the truck.

"That's thoughtful of him."

Liu Chang'an walked into the truck, and Qin Yanan narrowed her eyes.

The cargo compartment was spacious, considerably larger than Liu Chang'an's little storage room. Two rows of seats ran along either side, with twenty fully armed soldiers sitting in them. As Liu Chang'an and Qin Yanan entered, all twenty men rose as one and fixed Liu Chang'an with stern gazes.

"Thanks for your hard work," Liu Chang'an said casually. Then his gaze fell on the solid black object in the middle of the compartment.

The black object before him was about two meters long, 1.2 meters wide, and no more than eighty centimeters high. At first glance, it seemed to be made of bronze. What was surprising was the ancient aura that seemed to have settled into the whole object, while the greens, pinkish browns, lotus-root browns, reddish browns, and yellowish whites on its surface were vivid and fresh. The painted auspicious motifs—dragons, tigers, vermilion birds, and the like—were so crisp and bright they looked as if they had been painted only recently.

It was a coffin. In some circumstances, the word "coffin" was not taboo; it could imply promotion and prosperity, and small coffin-shaped gifts were perfectly acceptable presents for government officials. But no one would actually give someone a coffin this large.

"For me?" Liu Chang'an looked at Qin Yanan, meeting her eyes.

Qin Yanan had been watching Liu Chang'an's reaction. She had assumed that once he entered the cargo compartment, the sight would shock him. That was why she had arranged things this way. But now, as she met his gaze, she saw no panic or discomfort—only clear-eyed confusion.

This frivolous, opportunistic young man had a pair of eyes that gleamed in the dim cargo compartment.

Qin Yanan turned on the lights. The lamps on the ceiling and around the compartment came on, shining down on the black bronze coffin. On its lid, a dragon and a phoenix faced each other. The two dragons' heads were turned toward one another in the upper part of the design, while their bodies coiled toward either side and their tails stretched down to the lower corners. Between them, the two phoenixes faced away from each other, wings spread as if about to take flight, and appeared to be biting the dragons.

At the sight of the Phoenix Attacking Dragon design, Liu Chang'an's heart gave a faint tremor. Bronze coffins were already extremely rare, let alone one bearing such a violent, transgressive image.

"Yes." Qin Yanan was curious, too, as to why her great-grandfather had given Liu Chang'an such a pristine, enormous coffin, and why he had sent it under heavy guard. The security detail was fit for transporting a national treasure. If anything had happened with that kind of protection in the country, it would have been an earth-shattering case. So although Qin Yanan felt a little tired along the way, she had not been too worried. "My great-grandfather said I'll be staying in Junsha for quite a while. If you need anything, you can contact me anytime. Here's my card."

This was what Qin Yanan resented most. Though both her parents worked in Xiangnan Province, she had little interest in this second-tier city in central China. It was fine to visit now and then to see her parents, but living here would be terribly dull. Yet her great-grandfather had not said when she could return to the Capital or leave. He had only told her there was a job waiting for her here.

Her great-grandfather seemed to want her to get close to Liu Chang'an. That was what Qin Yanan found most unbearable. For now, she just wanted to finish the first task and leave.

"Contact you?" Liu Chang'an took the card and looked at Qin Yanan again. He seemed to grasp what Qin Peng had in mind, and couldn't help laughing. "All right."

Seeing his rather dismissive smile, Qin Yanan took a deep breath. What was wrong with contacting her? Did he think she wanted that? Did he think it would do him no good to contact her?

"The problem is, I don't have room for a coffin this big at home." Liu Chang'an climbed back down and pointed at the storage room where he lived.

As a young man, when showing a woman from a family that might have been an old friend of his own family his home, he was in such a sorry state that he could only live in a storage room, yet he showed no embarrassment at all. Did he truly not care that Qin Yanan looked down on him, or was his skin as thick as the bronze coffin?

Qin Yanan wasn't being snobbish or looking down on him for being poor. But the poor should strive to better themselves. To act as though being poor was no problem, since he had come to her and she could sort it out for him, was bound to invite contempt.

"This truck is yours, too," Qin Yanan said. Then the twenty fully armed soldiers ran out of the truck, lined up, and left.

Only Qin Yanan and Liu Chang'an remained to complete the handover.

"The largest and most famous bronze coffin in the world today is Marquis Yi of Zeng's coffin," Liu Chang'an said, his expression turning grave. "In fact, Marquis Yi of Zeng was merely an obscure local ruler. Many more bronze coffins existed throughout history without ever being discovered. During a certain period, coffins of this type meant a soul-sealing ritual had been performed before burial. The Phoenix Attacking Dragon design in particular carries extraordinary meaning. Did your great-grandfather have anything else for you to tell me?"

"Isn't this just a replica?" Qin Yanan asked, bewildered. "He only said it was a gift in return and hoped you would accept it."

In fact, Qin Peng had asked Qin Yanan to deliver the message more earnestly, as a request.

"A replica?" Liu Chang'an smiled. There was no need for Qin Yanan to come in person just to deliver a gift. Qin Peng probably wanted him to meet Ye Sijin's descendant. "All right, I'll accept it... Please tell him I understand what he means. I'll look after his precious great-granddaughter."

In an instant, Qin Yanan's cheeks flushed red. Color rushed into her face, and the blood surging up seemed to thicken her elegant, fair neck. Her breasts heaved, and she instinctively tugged at her undershirt so her buttons wouldn't pop off.

"Goodbye." Qin Yanan bowed slightly and turned to leave. Her respect for her great-grandfather had kept her from losing her temper.

Look after her? Could just anyone say that? Qin Yanan would eventually find a man who could look after her, but it absolutely would not be Liu Chang'an.