"Survive…"
Old Man Shaw's heavy words hung in the dim, herb-scented air, carrying the weight of destiny, pressing down like a boulder on Alan's chest. The firmly closed wooden door shut out the outside world, sealing away everything "normal" he'd known for eighteen years. He felt uprooted, cast adrift in a dark, turbulent sea teeming with unknown horrors.
Grandfather ignored Alan's shattered expression. Wearily, he walked behind the counter and picked up the thread-bound book he'd been pretending to read earlier, absently closing it, his fingers unconsciously tracing the faded gilt characters on the cover – Xuan Yuan Dao Yin Tu Shuo (Illustrated Treatise on Primordial Guiding and Channeling). His gaze swept over the rows of silent cabinets. These drawers, labeled with yellowing slips, held not just herbs, but generations of Shaw family secrets about life and the harmonization of energies.
"Check the door bolt again," Grandfather's voice was steady again, but the gravity remained.
Alan moved numbly to the door, pushing hard against the heavy wooden bar, confirming its immovable solidity. The cold wood offered a sliver of grounding reality.
Grandfather walked to the large wooden worktable used for preparing herbs in the center of the shop, gesturing for Alan to approach. "Sit," he indicated a low stool nearby.
Alan sat, hands clenched on his knees, knuckles white, his body still trembling faintly. He looked up at his grandfather. In the yellow lamplight, the lines on the old man's face seemed deeper, his clouded eyes holding unfathomable worry and a complexity Alan couldn't grasp.
Grandfather didn't speak immediately. He picked up a small, unglazed clay teapot from the table and poured himself a cup of long-cold tea, but didn't drink. He simply held the warm pot, as if drawing strength from it. The shop was silent except for the faint tick-tock of the clock and the sound of their own heavy breathing.
"Alan," Grandfather finally began, his voice low and deliberate, each word carefully weighed. "What you saw, what you experienced tonight… it wasn't a hallucination. Nor a nightmare. It's real. It's… the other side of this world."
Alan's heart clenched. He held his breath.
"This world," Grandfather's gaze seemed to pierce the walls, looking into an infinite void, "is far vaster, and far more dangerous… than what ordinary people see. Sustaining it, or rather, flowing through all things within it, is a fundamental force. In the West, they call it Anima. It exists in the air, the water, the fire, the earth… in the blood and soul of every living being. It is the root that drives miracles… and breeds monsters."
"Anima…" Alan repeated the unfamiliar word, a chill crawling up his spine. He remembered Lena's mention of "Anima Field Disturbance," remembered the torrent of uncontrolled power within him.
"Yes, Anima," Grandfather nodded. "And those who can perceive, absorb, and wield this power are collectively known as Animates. The vampires, the werewolves you encountered tonight, that Warden woman, Lena White… they are all Animates. Only, the source of their power, how it manifests, how they live… varies wildly. Vampires steal life-force to sustain their decay, werewolves channel lunar energy fused with bestial rage, the Wardens study runes, technology, or other arcane methods, seeking to control and regulate this power."
Grandfather paused, his focus returning to Alan, tinged with deep sorrow. "These Animates, along with the supernatural events they cause, the hidden rules they follow, the vast and complex society they constitute… all form a world hidden beneath ordinary human society. A massive, unknown world behind the Veil."
"The Veil…" Alan murmured. Lena had used that term too. So it meant a hidden world? A parallel London of monsters and superhumans?
"Yes, the Veil," Grandfather's voice held a note of weariness. "An invisible barrier separating the 'mundane' from the 'extraordinary.' Ordinary people live on this side, rising with the sun, resting with the moon, living and dying by natural, scientific laws. Animates exist on the other side, struggling, surviving, perpetuating in the shadows. Ancient laws and powerful organizations – like the system the Wardens serve – maintain the fragile balance of this Veil, preventing violent collisions between the worlds, shielding mortals from panic born of ignorance, and stopping supernatural wars from spilling over onto the innocent."
Grandfather set down the teapot, placing both hands on the worktable, leaning forward slightly, his gaze intense on Alan. "And our family, Alan… our ancestors were once part of the world behind the Veil."
"Us?!" Alan's head snapped up, shock written large on his face. He'd always thought Grandfather was just an old man who knew some Chinese medicine, maybe a few ancestral health exercises at best!
"Yes," Grandfather's expression became complex, a mix of pride and profound melancholy. "The Shaw lineage traces back to the distant East. Our ancestors didn't gain power through bloodline mutations or external stimuli. Through arduous cultivation, they studied the body's mysteries, communed with heaven and earth, mastering a special art of 'breath guidance and channeling.' Through specific breathing, meditation, and physical postures, they could perceive and guide the 'Anima' within and around them (in the East, we more commonly called it 'Qi'). They used it to balance Yin and Yang, expel disease and negative influences, strengthen the body, and… to some extent, slow aging and unlock latent potential. They were 'Spiritual Physicians,' walking the edge between the ordinary and the extraordinary."
Grandfather walked to an old cabinet against the wall, opening a small, inconspicuous drawer near the bottom. Inside weren't herbs, but several thread-bound ancient texts, carefully wrapped in oiled paper, their pages yellowed and brittle. He reverently extracted one, its cover bearing elegant, archaic characters – Xiao Shi Dao Yin Zheng Mai Xin Fa (Shaw Family Orthodox Channeling Heart Method).
"These are some of the insights left by our Shaw ancestors," Grandfather said with respect, gently touching the pages. "Our strength lay not in combat, but in 'Harmonization' and 'Guidance.' Like a physician using needles and herbs to rebalance the body, the Spiritual Physician uses 'Qi' to harmonize imbalances between life-force and external Anima."
He carefully replaced the book and closed the drawer, the sound heavy in the silence. A deep sigh escaped him. "Alas… times changed. Wars raged. And the Anima itself grew thinner in the Eastern lands. The Shaw inheritance waned. Your father… he…" Grandfather's voice caught, a flash of deep pain crossing his eyes. He didn't finish. He took a sharp breath, forcing down the surge of emotion.
"In any case, by my generation, only fragments remained – some basic health-preserving techniques and the knowledge to identify herbs and regulate Qi and blood. I came here to London, bringing your father… later, bringing you, hoping to leave the strife behind the Veil, to let you grow up in an ordinary, safe world." Grandfather's gaze became intensely serious, even pleading. "I taught you the most basic breath-calming techniques only hoping to strengthen your body and clear your mind, to ward off negative influences. I never imagined… never imagined you would awaken true 'Anima perception,' let alone be drawn into something like tonight!"
Grandfather's words struck Alan like thunderbolts. Family secrets, Spiritual Physicians, breath guidance… the information was overwhelming, battering his freshly shattered worldview. He looked down at his hands. The phantom burn of the terrifying power that had erupted within him in the shipyard seemed to linger. So it wasn't an accident? It was… talent? In his blood?
"Grandad… I… I didn't know…" Alan's voice was hoarse. "Sometimes I just felt… strange… like a 'sensation' when touching things… but I never thought…"
"That was the budding 'Perception'!" Grandfather cut him off, his tone urgent and severe. "It is a gift! But Alan, listen clearly! In this world, gifts often come with deadly danger! Especially a gift like yours… oriented towards 'Harmonization'!"
Grandfather stepped close, gripping Alan's shoulders with bruising force. The old man's eyes were sharp as blades, radiating unprecedented urgency.
"Your perception, your instinctive tendency to 'harmonize' chaotic energy… to Animates, you shine like a firefly in the dark! It's too unique! Unique enough to disrupt the normal energy patterns of other Animates! For races like vampires or werewolves, whose existence relies on specific Anima forms, your very presence could interfere with their power! For order-keepers like the Wardens, you are an unpredictable, uncontrollable 'variable'! A destabilizing factor… capable of triggering 'Anima Field Disturbances' at any moment!"
Grandfather's voice dropped to a near-whisper, each word an ice pick to Alan's ears: "Why did that Warden woman, Lena White, give you that card tonight? Protection? No! It's a tag! A probe! A locator planted on you! They want to monitor you, assess your threat level! Once they deem you uncontrollable, or your existence threatens the stability of the Veil…"
He didn't need to finish. The icy word – "neutralized" – floated like a specter in Alan's mind, chilling him to the core.
"And more importantly," Grandfather's eyes held a deeper fear, "beyond the Wardens, there are countless eyes, countless noses lurking behind the Veil! Beings seeking powerful Anima, rare talents, or pure chaos for its own sake… they are like the hungriest, most cunning Hounds! And your unique 'Harmonizing' aura… to them, it is the most tempting bait! The rarest… prey!"
"Hounds…" Alan finally understood the terrifying depth of the term Grandfather had used repeatedly. It wasn't just the Wardens. It meant all the unknown horrors behind the Veil that might covet him, hunt him!
"So, Alan!" Grandfather's grip tightened, his nails digging in. "You must learn to hide! Hide your perception as if your life depends on it! You must learn control! Control that chaotic potential inside you! Until you are strong enough, strong enough to protect yourself, you must not let it run wild again! Otherwise…"
Grandfather took a deep, shuddering breath, his clouded eyes filled with helplessness and profound sorrow. He spoke each word with crushing finality:
"Otherwise, the 'Hounds' you attract… will tear us both, and this little 'Bai Cao Tang'… to pieces!"