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Chapter 242: Subway Line 14
Chapter 242: Subway Line 14
Chapter 242: Chapter 242: Subway Line 14
Translator: 549690339
Huang Xiaolong leisurely strolled with Song Yuru through the Hu Family cemetery.
Thanks to the numerous palace lanterns scattered throughout the burial site, bathing everything in their soft, orange glow, all was visible in clear detail.
Strange symbols, indeed, were carved onto some of the walls; the keys to setting up the “gathering of wealth through Yin,” as it were.
Many tombstones stood tall as swords
“Hu Xuewen”
“Hu Kangyou”
“Hu Zuofeng”
“Hu Zonghe”
“Wife, look at these tombstones—all bear the name Hu. It seems that they belong to the ancestors of the Hu family,” Huang Xiaolong told Song Yuru.
Around each grave, fresh paper figures and flowers, incense, spirit money, seasonal vegetables, fruit, ritual offerings…All had been meticulously placed, leaving nothing wanting.
Their presence was a testament to the wants of a wealthy house.
“Long, enough with the sightseeing. Let’s start digging!” Song Yuru was animated, buzzing with energy. Her motivation to dig the graves surprisingly surpassed Huang Xiaolong’s.
“Let’s forget about digging here,” Huang Xiaolong shook his head.
“What?” she exclaimed. “We came all this way and now you don’t want to keep digging? Don’t you hate the Hu Family? They are the epitome of wrongdoing; they deserve punishment!” Song Yuru exclaimed, puzzled.
“The Hus are very cunning,” Huang Xiaolong frowned slightly. “The cemetery we see here…it’s a decoy. Or, at least it’s only a minor fraction of the Hu Family mausoleum.”
“What!?” Song Yuru was flabbergasted.
“To ruin the Hu family’s ancestral graves, and destroy this ‘gatherer of wealth’, we need to seek the heart of the cemetery,” Huang Xiaolong muttered. “Interesting…so this is the ‘hare with three burrows’.”
As he spoke, his eyes suddenly lit up with an intense light that seemed as brilliant as falling stars and capable of piercing through heaven and earth!
“I realize, the real core of the cemetery is buried about 15 meters deep underground. They’ve successfully linked the Fengshui above ground and underground, creating such an astonishing mausoleum.”
“Really? 15 meters deep! How was such a cemetery constructed? Do you have any idea of the manpower and resources required? Isn’t this akin to the mausoleums of ancient emperors?” Song Yuru was rendered speechless. “What now, Long? How are we supposed to dig so deep? Even with an excavator, it would be difficult to dig up the Hu family’s ancestral graves. Are we destined to live in the shadow of the Hus? Doomed to misfortune?”
This was undoubtedly distressing. Short of destroying the “nine negative accumulator,” their only other way out would necessarily involve relocation.
Should they propose collective relocation to the villagers?
“Don’t worry, wife. I’ve got this,” Huang Xiaolong said, wrapping an arm around Song Yuru’s slender waist, and leading her out of the Hu family cemetery. “For now, we should leave the graves here untouched to avoid alerting the Hus. Once we locate the core gravesite underground, that’s when we destroy it.”
The pair then walked down the mountain together, heading towards Song Yuru’s home.
“Um…wife,” Huang Xiaolong asked as they neared home. “The subway line 14 leading to the village entrance, didn’t the Hu family fund it?”
“Yes, several stations were built by the Hu family in partnership with Binhai’s government. The mayor even praised Boss Hu’s actions as benefiting both the country and its people. He even called him a generous benefactor…hypocrite! It’s all a facade; a devil’s mask.” Song Yuru grimaced.
Then it hit her.
“Wait, Long…are you…could it be…the reason the Hu family funded the subway… is to build… to build their underground mausoleum?” Her eyes suddenly lit up. “Of course, the subway is built underground!”
“Hahaha, my wife, you’re so smart!” Huang Xiaolong beamed. “You react so quickly; like minds, indeed.”
“Not in the mood for jokes, Long. I’m feeling heavy-hearted,” Song Yuru replied stoically. “Right, I have a cousin who drives train 14. Tomorrow I’ll ask him to come here. Then we can ask him directly.”
“Alright,” Huang Xiaolong nodded.
Once home,
Father and Mother Song had already retired to bed.
Song Yuru led Huang Xiaolong to a guest bedroom on the second floor.
“Long, you can sleep here tonight,” she said tiredly. “The bedding’s all clean, so you can rest well.”
“Uh, wife, aren’t we going to sleep together?” Huang Xiaolong asked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
“Long…I…I…” Song Yuru hesitated. “I’m feeling really heavy today. Let me have some space. You sleep here, ok?”
It was unsurprising to Huang Xiaolong that Song Yuru wasn’t in the mood for romance after such a disconcerting revelation.
After all, this was the village where she had grown up. Watching her fellow villagers face calamity due to their misfortune, even lose their lives, it understandably troubled her.
“Alright, my dear, I understand,” Huang Xiaolong replied, reining in his desires. “I promise I’ll take down the Hu Family!”
“Yes, Long! I trust you! This is not only your fight, but also mine! We will actively contribute to our village and punish the wicked!” Song Yuru’s face was filled with righteousness and indignation.
“Alright, dear wife, I’ll listen to you,” said Huang Xiaolong. “But remember, we have to keep this a secret. No one can know about this for now, not even Uncle and Auntie, alright?”
Song Yuru nodded her agreement.
Then, she looked at him, stretched out her arms and pulled him into a heated kiss before hurriedly running down the stairs.
After a refreshing shower in the guest room, Huang Xiaolong went to bed.
The next day.
He was awakened early by the voices coming from the living room downstairs.
It was Song Yuru and her cousin.
Huang Xiaolong got out of bed, rubbed his sleepy eyes, got dressed, and went downstairs.
In the living room downstairs.
Song Yuru and a man in his late twenties were seated on the couch, deep in conversation.