Chapter 12 — Hoa Mi Revenge of Vengeance

Recently it sings less and less, its voice is hoarse as if it is sucking on sand and gravel. But every time it speaks, something will definitely happen to Tham Thanh Van. The other day his horse slipped, knocking him from the horse's back to the ground, spraining his ankle. Yesterday his study was flooded, some pipes burst, and an entire drawer of documents was soaked in water and the words were blurred. The destiny has been leaked. Furthermore, it leaks faster and faster. But he did not dare to touch the nightingale. I have warned that once the new talisman is torn away, the birds will attract bad luck. He can't bet. So he just gritted his teeth and endured it. While trying to bear the loss of fortune, he also accelerated the process of gathering the Su family's assets into his hands. Try to take advantage of the bad luck before completely sitting on the President's chair. But he did not know that, the more he clung and tightened, the more the To family's fortune would reverberate on him. This bird's mechanism is like that, no matter how much it sucks from his body, it will transfer at least an inch to the person writing in the "Ich" box. It's me. The night before the big election day, we prepared for the final steps. Through Taoist Thanh Hu's gray pigeon, I received the last letter. There were only two sentences in the letter. First sentence: The time of the great election is the three-minute hour of the Horse. Question two: At that time, you must carry a birdcage with you. Bring a birdcage? I glanced at the cage hanging in the yard. The nightingale crouched in a squat position on the branch, its feather color had visibly dulled, the five sparkling colors had now turned into five types of gray. It is exhausting its own essence to maintain its ability to absorb luck. If you keep smoking, it won't last much longer. We took down the birdcage and placed it on the table. The nightingale raised her head and glanced at me, her blue eyes were cloudy, like a broken lapis lazuli.
“Just try to hold on for one more day.” I whispered, “Tomorrow, you will also be liberated.”

The nightingale tilted her head, closed her eyes, and didn't make a sound. Great selection day. In front of the door of Tu Hien Lau is covered with red silk and colored silk curtains. Eight hundred shops in Jiangnan, with more than two hundred Eastern family members present. With the addition of the treasurer and the assistants accompanying the houses, the space on the three floors from front to back was so packed that there was not a single empty seat left. Tham Thanh Van wore the highest quality blue brocade robe from the Su family's treasury, his waist was tied with a gold silk belt with flowers, and his head was covered with a square turban inlaid with jade. As soon as he entered Tu Hien Lau, he was welcomed straight to the chairman's table by the crowd. Treasurer Ma personally pulled out a chair, poured him wine, and continued to flatter him: "Brother Shen, there is no one more worthy than you for the President's chair this time." No one mentioned the To family. No one asked about the old To family. Tham Thanh Van sat there, smiling leisurely, as if that position was born to him. The only flaw was that when he walked, his right leg was a bit hobbled. That was the consequence of the fall from the horse the other day that hadn't completely healed yet. He was completely unaware that, in the small alley behind the back door of Tu Hien Lau, there was an old man wearing a rough cotton shirt waiting for someone. I climbed through the West Court window and went out. The two women arranged by Mrs. Tham only knew how to guard the door, but did not care about the windows. Under the window grows a dense banana bush, making a very soft sound when it jumps down. Xuan Vu was waiting at the beginning of the alley to respond. In her arms she was holding an object. It's a bird cage. The nightingale squatted quietly in the cage. Its feathers were almost completely gray, at first glance it looked just like an ordinary ground sparrow. But those eyes still flashed, a dark, deep blue light that refused to go out. Taoist Thanh Hu stood on the steps of the back door, with an incense fan tied behind his waist. He scanned me from head to toe, uttering only three words: "Follow me." He led me through the side door of Tu Hien Lau, around the lobby, from the elegant room on the second floor straight to behind the railing directly opposite the ground floor hall. Looking down from this angle, the entire scene of the hall is captured in full view without missing anything. Tham Thanh Van sat in the middle, surrounded by two or three dozen Dong Gia brands. The grand election process has begun. An old man standing on a high platform was loudly announcing the names of the candidate list. There is only one name: Tham Thanh Van, Representative of the To family.
“Isn't there anyone running against him?” I asked Taoist Thanh Hu.
“There were two people who stood up, but they were both forced to withdraw.”
Taoist Thanh Hu waved his incense fan, "One person had his weakness in business, the other person had his shop suddenly caught fire last month in an inexplicable way." My hand tightens the handle of the birdcage. The old man had finished calling out the list and turned around to invite Tham Thanh Van to step onto the stage to speak. Tham Thanh Van stood up, smoothed his shirt, and strode up to the podium. His right leg is still slightly limp. But he is trying to walk steadily, each step filled with strength. It was like he wanted to use his strength to stop the invisible bird that was draining his luck. He stepped onto the stage. On the stage hangs a horizontal painting, an old sign passed down through three generations of the Jiangnan Chamber of Commerce. The purple sandalwood is engraved with four brilliant golden words "Thanh Tin Vi Ban" (Taking faith as the root). Below the horizontal panel is the President's speaking podium. Tham Thanh Van stood behind the podium, raised his hand and waved to everyone in the hall.
“Dear Eastern families, fellow people—”

He just opened his mouth. A shrill bird song tore through the air from the second floor straight down. The nightingale cried. That sound doesn't sound like a bird at all. It was just like a thin steel wire cutting back and forth across the eardrum. The nightingale flapped its wings wildly in the cage, gray feathers falling out. The blue pupils shined brightly to the limit. It's making its final real push. Tham Thanh Van's face instantly turned pale as paper. His right leg suddenly lost its support, his knee went weak, and his body collapsed forward. His hands quickly grabbed the podium. Hundreds of people below looked at each other in bewilderment. Shopkeeper Ma stood up and shouted: "Brother Shen, what's wrong with you?" Tham Thanh Van's forehead was drenched in sweat. He tried his best to put his hands on the platform, wanting to stand up straight, but his legs seemed to have been stripped of all his bones and muscles, and he couldn't use any more force. At that moment, there was a dull "crack" sound from the top of his head. The hanger of the horizontal painting has broken off on one side. The death altar sign, passed down through three generations, wobbles and tilts like a threatening guillotine blade. The second hook also broke. The horizontal plane plunged straight down. Tham Thanh Van did not have time to dodge. The four golden words "Thanh Tin Vi Ban" fell straight onto his feet. He fell onto the platform, letting out a pitiful scream. The whole school was in chaos. Some rushed to the stage, others quickly retreated. Chairs fell over, tea tables tilted, broken dishes and bowls littered the floor. Shopkeeper Ma rushed to the podium to help Tham Thanh Van. He pulled twice but couldn't budge. The horizontal canvas was too heavy. Tham Thanh Van lay flat on the ground, blood foaming from his mouth. His legs were pressed tightly by the horizontal band, from the knees down twisted into a deformed angle. Amidst the hustle and bustle downstairs, a panicked servant rushed in through the door, sweating profusely, his voice screaming so loud that the whole Tu Hien building could hear it.
"Master Shen! Something terrible has happened!"
"An urgent letter came from Lieu alley outside the city. The young master suddenly became ill, his whole body convulsed!"
"The doctor said, the doctor said, I'm afraid I'm paralyzed!"
The entire school's panic stopped for a moment. After that, everyone's eyes shifted to the figure of Tham Thanh Van lying flat on the stage. Tham Thanh Van's face turned from pale to gray. Not the gray of pain, but the gray of extreme fear. His eyes frantically searched for something in the crowd. Found it. He saw me. I stand behind the railing on the second floor.