Chapter Nineteen: The Divine Strategy of Luo Xuan

I raised my head calmly, and before me stood a massive stone statue, radiating dignity and righteousness. Its enormous eyes reflected a sense of unfulfilled ambition and a tragic grievance of dying before achieving greatness.

Suddenly, Huo Qian seemed to grasp the meaning and spoke excitedly, “Yuan Chonghuan! The one who transported the imperial treasury to the treasure for Emperor Chongzhen—it was Yuan Chonghuan!”

I turned to him and nodded peacefully. “The last emperor who knew about the treasure was Chongzhen. This story begins with him. Chongzhen ascended the throne at a time when the country was plagued by internal and external troubles: within, a million peasant rebels raged across the Loess Plateau; outside, the Manchu cavalry watched hungrily. The land was in chaos, flames of war everywhere. Chongzhen was decisive and resolute, compassionate to the suffering of the people, often issuing edicts to blame himself. He strove for reform, frequently held court discussions, seeking counsel on governance, and debated the rise and fall of the dynasty with his ministers. He governed meticulously, attended to all matters personally, aspiring to be a restorer of the empire.”

Huo Qian agreed with me and continued, “Chongzhen was diligent in government, frugal and modest, and issued six self-accusation edicts. He was a young and promising emperor, but his eagerness for reform made him overly harsh with his ministers, causing fear and the closure of channels for advice. He often lamented that he chose the wrong people, and ultimately became isolated. He died for his country at Coal Hill. Looking at his life, it is a tragedy of a king who was not inherently a ruler of a fallen state.”

“Even a loyal hero like Yuan Chonghuan was executed—this emperor was nothing but a muddle-headed monarch,” Xiao Lianshan said disdainfully, pursing his lips.

“Chongzhen never intended to kill Yuan Chonghuan. At that time, facing internal and external threats, he appointed Yuan Chonghuan to resist the Qing with remarkable results. Chongzhen appreciated Yuan’s strategies for pacifying Liaodong. Even if Chongzhen was foolish, he wouldn’t have killed Yuan based on a few rumors—it was practically severing half the empire himself,” I explained.

“But Yuan Chonghuan was indeed executed by Chongzhen’s order—why?” Yue Leiting asked in confusion.

“Qian is right. Yuan Chonghuan was the one who helped Chongzhen transport the treasury to the Ming Thirteen Tombs. Because the treasury was empty, Chongzhen wanted to open the treasure. He ordered Yuan Chonghuan to return, but with the enemy looming, Yuan feared he would lose everything if he left the front. He memorialized Chongzhen, drew a map of the Ming Thirteen Tombs, entrusted it to a confidant to deliver to the capital, and asked Chongzhen to appoint someone else to open it. It was this secret memorial that sealed his fate!” I spoke unhurriedly.

“Yuan’s reasoning was sound. He was fighting on the front lines—when a general is away, he may not obey the emperor’s orders. With urgent military matters, sending someone else was reasonable. This emperor’s brain was a mess,” Xiao Lianshan grew angrier as he listened.

“Lianshan, if I were Chongzhen, I would have killed Yuan Chonghuan too!” Huo Qian mused. “Such a secret as the Ming Thirteen Tombs is a grave taboo. Even a sage like Liu Bowen could not escape death after retiring from court. Yuan Chonghuan casually drew the location of the tombs—what would Chongzhen think?”

“Qian is right. At the time, Hong Chengchou had already surrendered to the Qing. If Yuan followed suit, he knew the lifeblood of the Ming; the empire would be in peril. If he could draw a map for Chongzhen, he could do so for others. Such a person could not be kept,” I said.

“Yes, Yan Hui’s analysis makes sense. Every emperor is suspicious by nature, especially about the fate of their country. Yuan Chonghuan knew exactly where the emperor’s silver was buried. Such a person cannot be kept,” Yue Leiting agreed, nodding.

“So Chongzhen, in a rare moment of muddled thinking, executed Yuan Chonghuan on trumped-up charges of treason,” I continued. “After submitting the memorial, Yuan realized he had committed a grave taboo. To be safe, he hid the location of the Ming Thirteen Tombs within a book, entrusted it to his descendants, and warned them never to covet the treasures, lest they be cursed!”

“Could it be… Yuan Chonghuan hid the location in… in this very 'Luoxuan Divine Strategy'?” Yue Leiting exclaimed, stunned.

I took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

Huo Qian carefully picked up the oil-paper-wrapped 'Luoxuan Divine Strategy' from the disk, opened the book, and as he read, his excitement gradually faded. He handed the book to me.

I took the book; every chapter contained strange lines and symbols, but most pages were blank. No matter how I examined it, there was nothing unusual, as if it were a book with no words at all.

“Even a treasure map, he couldn’t draw properly. How could he be a general? Who can understand this mess?” Yue Leiting said anxiously from the side.

I smiled indifferently. “Leiting, Yuan Chonghuan was no ordinary man. He could command a million troops—his strategies were certainly not lacking. If the book contained an intact treasure map, it would likely be a fake. Yuan hid the location within the book, not knowing his own future, and didn’t want anyone to find the Ming treasure. He merely left himself a backup.”

“So, Yan Hui, this rumor might be true?”

“I can’t guarantee absolutely, but from what we see now, the Ming Thirteen Tombs most likely exist. Whoever can unravel the mystery of this 'Luoxuan Divine Strategy' will discover their location.”

Yue Leiting paced anxiously, rubbing his cropped hair. “That may be, but these strange lines in each chapter—just a few strokes, and who knows what they mean?”

“Perhaps if you overlap the lines, they form a treasure map?” Xiao Lianshan mused.

Huo Qian seemed inspired, immediately took the book from me, and held it up to the lamp.

“It’s useless. If it were that simple, Yuan Chonghuan wouldn’t have bothered putting a stroke in every chapter. If he intended it to be incomprehensible, he wouldn’t use such a shallow method,” I said.

Sure enough, after a moment, Huo Qian’s expression dimmed again, and he shook his head, returning the book to me.

“Try water—submerge the book. Old folks in the village said many treasure maps only show up in water,” Xiao Lianshan suggested.

“That’s right! I forgot about that. Maybe it’s drawn with invisible ink,” Yue Leiting slapped his forehead and laughed.

“I don’t think so. If that were the case, Yuan wouldn’t need to leave lines and symbols in every chapter,” I shook my head again.

“Ah, not that, not this—if there is a treasure, but we can’t understand it, it’s just a worthless book,” Yue Leiting sighed, frustrated.

“Actually, don’t focus on what the drawings depict. Think about what purpose these lines and symbols serve,” I said.

“Yan Hui, do you know how to read this book?” Huo Qian’s tone brightened with hope.

“Heh, no.” I shook my head and smiled.

Yue Leiting, like a deflated balloon, stood up only to squat back down.

“But I know Yuan Chonghuan left other clues besides this book.”

“Where, Yan Hui, are there other clues?” Yue Leiting asked excitedly.

My gaze fixed on the golden dragon-tortoise atop the disk, and I spoke thoughtfully, “This is an altar built by Yuan Chonghuan’s descendants. It’s not surprising for the 'Luoxuan Divine Strategy' to be here, but don’t you find it odd that the golden dragon-tortoise is placed together with the book?”

“Now that you mention it, it does seem odd. There must be some connection between these two items,” Huo Qian nodded.

“Yuan hid the clues to the Ming Thirteen Tombs in the 'Luoxuan Divine Strategy.' On one hand, he didn’t want the secret easily discovered, so he left an unreadable book. To unlock its mystery, it must relate to the golden dragon-tortoise,” I said with certainty.

“The dragon-tortoise is a pure yang creature, a divine beast of antiquity, revealing the secrets of heaven and earth. It embodies the ultimate principle, connecting astronomy above and geography below, harmonizing the world of men,” Huo Qian’s gaze also fell on the golden dragon-tortoise. “Moreover, the dragon-tortoise is a symbol of wealth and protection, said to guard treasures. Its presence complements the 'Luoxuan Divine Strategy.'”

“So, this golden dragon-tortoise is the key to unlocking the 'Luoxuan Divine Strategy'!”

Suddenly enlightened, Yue Leiting, upon hearing the true purpose of the golden dragon-tortoise, reached out to take it.

“Don’t touch it!”

My warning came just as Yue Leiting grasped the golden dragon-tortoise. As it left the disk, the altar shook violently, the ground trembled, the supporting pillars collapsed, and torrents of river water surged through the cracks.

“Lianshan, protect Leiting and Qian—hurry! This place is dangerous and could collapse at any moment.”

As I spoke, I carefully took the ancient book from the sinking disk, wrapped it in oil paper, and tucked it securely into my clothes.

We barely escaped the main hall when a thunderous crash echoed behind us. The enormous stone statue toppled, landing exactly where we’d stood moments before. The river water flooded the hall, causing it to sink.

I hurried toward the exit, the passage behind us fracturing to reveal the raging underground river. As I leapt into the entrance corridor, the majestic altar crumbled, sinking into the earth.

Xiao Lianshan pulled me from the pond outside. I saw Yue Leiting, still panting, sitting on the ground and pointing at his back. I turned, and where the altar once stood, nothing remained. The site had vanished, and the river water transformed it into a vast expanse.

My hand remained pressed against my chest, gripping the oil-paper-wrapped book. I glanced at Huo Qian.

Understanding, Huo Qian stood and shouted, “Spread the word—the ancient tomb collapsed, flooded by the river. Inside, we found nothing but a golden dragon-tortoise.”