Chapter Two: The Azure Dragon Embraces the Grave

To live is to eat, but once I stepped out into the world, I suddenly realized I had no skills at all. I’d slept under bridge piers, scavenged leftover food from others, and drunk water speckled with dirt, yet somehow I survived. By the time I reached Yuzhou, three months had passed.

Yuzhou is a city of mountains, with countless steps rising and falling everywhere. Here, there’s a profession called “porter”—men who earn a bit of money hauling goods for others. Fortunately, aside from my knowledge of esoteric arts, the only thing I had left was inexhaustible strength.

I met Xiao Lianshan on a truck headed to the outskirts of Yuzhou. More than a dozen porters were crammed into the cargo hold, all strangers. Xiao Lianshan sat beside me; he looked about my age but already bore a rare stoicism and world-weariness for someone so young.

The truck stopped in some nameless area beyond the city. In the distance, a few scattered lights flickered in a village. We were herded off the truck like sheep and lined up in a row. The man selecting us was called Liu Hao, a tattoo snaking along his arm—a clear sign he wasn’t exactly a respectable character. Still, he was generous, handing each of us fifty yuan and promising a meal.

Liu Hao never said what the job was. Once we got off, he handed everyone two steamed buns and told us to eat quickly so we could get to work.

“Boss, what exactly are we doing?” someone asked, curiosity getting the better of them.

“Digging a well,” Liu Hao replied, impatience evident. No sooner had he spoken than he noticed one of his companions lighting a cigarette. He stormed over and unleashed a torrent of curses. “Are you an idiot? It’s pitch dark out here. You can see a cigarette from miles away. Are you trying to let everyone know we’re here?”

From the moment I first laid eyes on Liu Hao, I sensed his anxiety and tension. I didn’t understand why he reacted so violently to a cigarette, but one thing was clear—Liu Hao was lying. We weren’t here to dig a well.

From the moment we got off the truck, I sensed something strange about the feng shui of this place. I climbed a nearby hill for a better look and was startled enough to drop my bun on the ground.

Xiao Lianshan wasn’t talkative—clearly the type to put his head down and work. He finished his bun, picked up a shovel, and was about to start digging when I shouted from the hilltop, “Stop! Don’t dig!”

Everyone stared at me in surprise. Xiao Lianshan looked at me blankly and asked, “Why not?”

“It’s not a well—it’s a tomb!” I declared.

As soon as I spoke, I saw Liu Hao’s eye twitch almost imperceptibly, a flicker of panic in his gaze.

“What the hell are you talking about? What makes you think there’s a tomb here? You’re just a porter, not some kind of master. Don’t make me warn you again—keep running your mouth and I’ll bury you alive myself.”

The laborers were uneducated and timid. They wanted the money, but the mention of grave-digging left everyone glancing nervously at each other. Grave-robbing was a crime punishable by death; no one dared move.

I’d always thought the things I’d learned in Qin Yishou’s underground library were useless, but now, unexpectedly, they proved invaluable. From my vantage point, I could see that the area Liu Hao wanted us to dig was surrounded by fields stretching over dozens of acres. The open plain was flanked on the left by wooded hills like a crouching white tiger; behind, three mountains loomed—one upright, two elegant; to the right, a river curled around the plain like a green dragon embracing the land. This was a rare and auspicious feng shui site, a place where the fortunes of those buried would bless their descendants endlessly.

“This is a Green Dragon Embracing the Cave formation—a prime feng shui spot. The place you want us to dig is the heart of the treasure. There must be a tomb below, and whoever’s buried there was surely rich or noble,” I said confidently.

Liu Hao was momentarily stunned, staring at me as if surprised, but quickly his fierce expression returned. The other porters, impressed by my words, stood rooted to the spot. Liu Hao waved his hand, and two men moved to surround me, rope in hand. I figured I’d guessed right—Liu Hao wanted to silence me. Unconsciously, I gripped my bamboo pole.

Suddenly, Xiao Lianshan stepped in front of me, upright and resolute. “Let’s talk this through. Don’t bully people just because you have numbers. If this really is grave-robbing, I don’t want the money either,” he declared.

“Well, well—looks like we’ve got a hero here,” Liu Hao sneered, nodding. “Tie up both of them and throw them in the truck. I don’t want them getting in the way.”

Five or six men rushed us at once. Standing behind Xiao Lianshan, I noticed he showed not a trace of fear. The moment someone reached for him, Xiao Lianshan seized their arm and, with a swift, practiced move, sent the man flying several meters, landing with a gut-wrenching scream—his arm was broken.

Only then did I realize why Xiao Lianshan wasn’t afraid—he was trained. His moves were swift and ruthless, each strike aimed at a vital point. The techniques were unadorned but brutally effective. In moments, three of the seven or eight attackers were writhing on the ground, including the one with the broken arm.

“Weapons!” Liu Hao shouted, sensing things weren’t going his way.

Knives flashed coldly in the moonlight. Xiao Lianshan stood firm, fists clenched, unafraid.

Yet something kept nagging at me. If this really was a Green Dragon Embracing the Cave, the descendants would be endlessly blessed, and the villages nearby should be prosperous, not so impoverished and bleak. I squatted, scooped up a handful of earth, and sniffed it. It smelled of decaying lacquer tree and a faint trace of perfume. Suddenly, everything became clear.

“You’re standing on the tomb of a Western Han dynasty woman. But even if you dig, you’ll find nothing inside!” I declared to Liu Hao with confidence.

Liu Hao froze, knife still in hand, and sneered, “And how do you know it’s a Western Han woman’s tomb and that it’s empty? What, you got X-ray vision?”

“I’ll bet you. If it’s a Western Han woman’s tomb and there’s nothing inside, you let us go,” I challenged.

Liu Hao looked unconvinced but put his knife away, pulled out a wad of cash, and placed it on the truck’s hood. It was the most money I’d ever seen at once. “Dig right here. Whatever’s down there is my business. Whoever digs gets the money.”

The other porters, eyes gleaming with greed, rushed to dig at Liu Hao’s signal. Only Xiao Lianshan and I held back. Liu Hao ordered his men to keep an eye on us. If I was right, he’d let us go; if I was wrong, I’d have to slap myself in front of everyone.

In less than two hours, the diggers broke into the main burial chamber. Clearly, Liu Hao was experienced—he must have cased this place many times, the tomb’s location already scouted out.

Soon, someone crawled out of the hole, wiping mud from his face, and hesitated to speak.

“Well? What did you find?” Liu Hao demanded impatiently.

“There’s… there’s a tomb,” the man stammered.

Liu Hao’s eyes lit up with triumph, but the man quickly added, “But it’s completely ruined. The three-meter-high chamber is flooded. Everything inside is rotten.”

I saw Liu Hao sink to the ground like a deflated ball, sitting in stunned silence before lighting a cigarette, taking a long, reluctant drag, and finally asking me, “How… how did you know?”

I hadn’t guessed. The Green Dragon Embracing the Cave is a rare feng shui treasure. Anyone buried here should have blessed the land for ten miles around, but the surrounding villages were destitute. There was only one explanation: the tomb’s feng shui had been broken. The Green Dragon formation is ruined by water—feng shui requires capturing wind and gathering qi, but if water floods the cave, the fortune scatters and brings disaster to the region.

I suspected the tomb was flooded, but I wasn’t sure until I sniffed the soil above the tomb. It smelled of decaying lacquer and a faint perfume. Lacquer trees were used to make lacquerware, a luxury in the Western Han dynasty, only the wealthy could afford. But lacquerware doesn’t keep well; if the tomb isn’t sealed, it decays. The perfume came from rouge, which, mixed with water, evaporated and seeped into the soil. All signs pointed to a Western Han woman’s tomb.

Liu Hao gaped at me, speechless. He only snapped out of it when his cigarette burned his fingers. Tossing it aside, he leapt up. I braced myself for a fight, but Xiao Lianshan pulled me behind him, fists ready.

But Liu Hao’s expression changed as quickly as flipping a page. He broke into a dazzling smile, grabbed the stack of cash from the truck hood, and shoved it into my hands. “It was all a misunderstanding! I didn’t realize you were an expert. Brother, if I offended you, please forgive me. As the saying goes, no fight, no friendship—let’s be friends.”

For the first time, I realized that money has weight. The cash felt heavy in my hand, bringing an inexplicable sense of joy. But I knew better than to accept it—especially dirty money. I understood Liu Hao’s intent: he wanted me to help him find more tombs.

I pushed the money back to him, surprising him.

“Does the bet still count?” I asked.

Liu Hao took a deep breath, disappointment written on his face, and waved his hand. His men stepped aside, making a path. Without looking back, I walked away. I suddenly remembered the day Qin Yishou cut off my finger—I’d left just like this. Years later, I regretted not taking the five yuan he offered me.

Looking back, I realized it made no difference whether I took Liu Hao’s money or not. From the day I met him, my fate was already sealed. In truth, the first person I should have thanked was Liu Hao. Without him, I might have remained a porter for the rest of my life.