Chapter 13: The Legendary Graffiti

As Charles recounted the legendary deeds of this remarkable figure, he grew increasingly animated, even pulling out his phone.
“Look, I’ve gone through all the graffiti he drew, and I viewed them in the exact order he created them. See, these pieces are almost covered by other graffiti—if my eyesight weren’t sharp, I might never have noticed them.”
Ou Xiaolu glanced at a few photos, then suddenly set the phone aside and stood up, asking, “Charles, could you take me to see the actual paintings?”
“You’ve fallen for them, haven’t you? Wise choice. These artworks must be seen in person to truly feel the power within.”
Charles spoke as he grabbed a cap and pulled it onto his head. “Follow me, buddy. I’ll lead you down Caesar’s path.”
Miguel, however, shook his head in resignation. “I’ll pass. After running around all morning, I’m a bit tired. I need to rest.”
Before Ou Xiaolu could respond, Charles waved his hand in agreement. “No problem, I know this place like the back of my hand. Oh, and if any girls come looking for me, be sure to call me.”
With that, Charles flung open the door and dashed out with great energy.
The weather in Xinxiang was fairly pleasant, and with March in full swing, going out at noon didn’t feel too hot to Ou Xiaolu.
What surprised him more was Charles’s stamina. The lively, energetic man picked up speed as they went, finally breaking into a jog.
If it had been yesterday, Ou Xiaolu would never have kept up with such a pace. But now, after mastering the art of Swift Step, unless it was a full-on sprint, he could match any speed.
Charles noticed Ou Xiaolu’s stride as well; at first, he simply wanted to walk briskly, but soon it became an impromptu race between them.
They chased each other for about seven or eight minutes before finally stopping in front of a small building.
Ou Xiaolu sized up the structure. He saw it nestled amidst the shade of trees, tranquil and elegant, hardly the sort of place one would expect to find graffiti.
Charles beckoned him over. “Come here. Surprised? Crazy Caesar’s first graffiti is hidden in a corner right here—most people never notice it.”

Guided by Charles, Ou Xiaolu found a small, inconspicuous trash bin behind the building. In the corner of the bin, there was a tiny piece of graffiti.
The placement was so clever that wind and rain barely touched it; after all this time, the graffiti looked as fresh as if newly painted.
Ignoring Charles’s triumphant expression, Ou Xiaolu studied the corner graffiti intently. He felt, as with the others, that a trace of the artist’s soul lingered here.
This fragment of soul was very faint. If Ou Xiaolu hadn’t cultivated his inner strength and heightened his senses—and if he hadn’t already discovered such souls in other graffitis—he might never have noticed it.
Having made his discovery, Ou Xiaolu carefully reached out and tapped the graffiti.
To Charles, Ou Xiaolu seemed to be tracing the structure of the artwork, but in truth, a thread of magical power was gathering between his fingers.
That power stimulated the fragment of soul within the graffiti. In Ou Xiaolu’s vision, a green thread appeared.
The thread stretched out from this piece, heading in another direction. Ou Xiaolu watched its path and asked, “Charles, is our next target in this direction?”
Charles was stunned by the question. “How do you know that?”
“Not sure. Just a feeling,” Ou Xiaolu replied casually.
“Oh? What sort of feeling? Can you help me sense where his last graffiti is?” At that moment, a voice sounded from behind them.
Ou Xiaolu turned and saw a man in a suit approaching, flanked by two burly bodyguards.
As he walked, the man pulled a checkbook from his pocket and scribbled something on it.
When he reached Ou Xiaolu’s side, he tore off the check and pressed it onto Ou Xiaolu, striking a pose that exuded authority.
Under such a powerful aura, Charles stared in awe. He quickly took the check from Ou Xiaolu, glanced at the number, and exclaimed excitedly, “I know where the last graffiti is. I’ll take you there.”

The man in the suit shook his head, not even glancing at Charles. He fixed his gaze on Ou Xiaolu and said with certainty, “You’re the one to take me—just as you sensed the next graffiti, lead me to the last one.”
Ou Xiaolu pondered seriously, but didn’t reach for the check Charles held. Instead, he turned and followed the green thread only he could see.
Though the man in the suit was displeased that Ou Xiaolu hadn’t accepted the check, foiling his grand gesture, he was satisfied with Ou Xiaolu’s willingness to lead the way. He and his bodyguards followed swiftly.
Charles hesitated, then carefully folded the check and hurried after them.
Ou Xiaolu walked at a moderate pace, but the campus wasn’t large. In no time, he arrived before another piece of graffiti. Here, too, he sensed a trace of soul, and from it, an even more distinct thread stretched outward.
Staring at the graffiti, the man in the suit nodded with conviction. “Yes, this is the second piece. Keep going—help me find the last one.”
Ou Xiaolu said nothing and moved on, while Charles, trailing behind, was dumbfounded. He stared at Ou Xiaolu leading the way, unsure if he should follow.
For over three hours, they wandered the campus, sometimes retracing paths they’d already walked. At last, they arrived before the building where Ou Xiaolu had discovered the BOSS the day before.
Pointing at the double-headed vulture graffiti on the wall, Ou Xiaolu finally spoke: “This is the last piece.”
Before the man in the suit could respond, Charles, now astounded beyond belief, cried out, “Good heavens, how did you know? Not only did you find every graffiti I discovered, you found several I missed!”
But neither Ou Xiaolu nor the man in the suit paid him any attention. The man stared into Ou Xiaolu’s eyes and said, “Your eyes are impressive. This is for you.”
He took from his pocket a keychain shaped like a drop of blood and pressed it into Ou Xiaolu’s hand. “If anyone asks, just say you’re my disciple.”