In Bailong Manor, one could see the grandeur of the Chen Patriarch’s residence.
Its glazed tiles were like colored glass, bricks made of jade, and the nine-tiered eaves dangled golden bells.
The vermilion gates were studded with coiled dragon-shaped nails, the stone steps carved with lotus impressions.
In front stood two suanni beasts, their eyes inlaid with shining pearls that radiated light.
A three-zhang wide plaque of rosewood hung above the door, inscribed with the calligraphic words “Chen Residence.”
Inside the main hall, the Chen Patriarch was conversing with a peculiar creature.
This strange being had the head and body of a man—an old man’s appearance—but from his back grew a fox tail, very odd indeed.
The old fox said: “Chen Patriarch, have you finished considering?”
The Chen Patriarch’s face looked like withered wood of a hundred years, deeply creased as if carved by a knife into a frosted pine; he was frail and aged.