Chapter 44: The Imperial Tomb (1/1)

Old Wang made me spin three times left, then three times right in the middle of the road. "Take off your clothes," he ordered.

In broad daylight? I blushed. "Master, this is a main road! Look—there's a surveillance camera. Public indecency will get us beaten!"

"Idiot! Do as I say. Many would kill for this chance. Hurry, I need to catch a train."

Gritting my teeth, I shrugged off my coat. Old Wang produced a cinnabar brush and scrawled a talisman on my chest, chanting: "Heaven's spirits! Earth's spirits! Celestial soldiers, show your might! Patriarch, bless me! By Supreme Lord Laozi's edict—now!" As he finished, the talisman vanished into my skin.

"Master! What... is this? Harmful?" I tensed—cinnabar was toxic.

He exhaled: "I've taught you 'Spirit Possession.' Point to heaven with joined fingers, stamp your right foot, and chant—ancestral spirits will protect you!" He demonstrated. I mimicked him, but the patriarch didn't possess me—maybe because I wasn't a virgin.

"This isn't working—are you kidding?"

He slapped my head: "Do you think the patriarch is a taxi? This is a life - saver. In mortal danger, he'll possess you. No spirit or ghost can possess you now. Most importantly, stay true to the precepts to avoid the Five Flaws and Three Missing. Disrespect the patriarch again, and I'll kill you."

After chanting apologies, I became a Maoshan disciple in a daze. Old Wang left in a hurry, leaving me his Seven - Star Sword and saying I could self - study talismans. "Learn martial arts—even showy moves help," he added.

As a latecomer, I'd missed Maoshan's martial training. The world holds more than ghosts—there are earth spirits, zombies, and bandits. Even ghost - hunters struggle with zombies, which are immensely strong. The best are Xiangxi corpse - drivers, all over 1.7m, burly, and expert in handling undead.

Corpse - drivers needed courage and stamina, with strict entry standards: over 16, over 1.7m, ugly (to scare people), able to navigate by the sun, carry loads, and retrieve a leaf from a graveyard at night. Hence, they were muscular, fierce - looking, and could terrify the living.

After parting with Old Wang, who assured me Grandpa was safe in hiding, I fetched Liu Changsheng's ashes from Wenguan Tun. "Brother Liu, fate is fickle—we're half - siblings in the sect," I sighed on the train to Tongliao.

Zhoujiazhuang lay in ruins from the recent calamity. Liu's map led me 20km from the village, to a border with another settlement. Climbing the highest peak, I observed the terrain: east - west was the main dragon vein, west - east secondary, south - north compliant, north - south 逆势 (contrary). Dragon tombs often formed by mountains and water, but celestial tombs required virtue to claim.

The site Liu marked was a hill surrounded by mountains, with a winding path ahead. Approaching, I slapped my thigh: "This is a dragon tomb!"

The mountain ended here, with dense water channels from surrounding peaks. Rain would wrap the tomb like pearls, never exceeding the top—during floods, it formed "Golden Dragon Playing with Pearls," an omen for an emperor. But this was a "Hidden Dragon Tomb"—rain turned to fog, letting the dragon take form. Without rain, it became a yin - gathering site, with mountain rocks aiming at the tomb like knives.

Descendants here would see one blind person per three generations, though a prodigy emerged every three generations, dying before 25. Grass planted here grew into trees overnight—proof of spiritual energy.

This reminded me of a legend: two brothers fought over an "Imperial Tomb," agreeing the first to die would be buried there. The younger brother hanged himself, and his family waited 17 years (as a feng shui master ordered) to bury him. The coffin remained pristine, and the tomb's soil was surrounded by stone. His descendant? Liu Bang, the Han Emperor.

Imperial Tombs brim with water qi, sprouting plants instantly. Only one day in 60 years was auspicious for burial—miss it, wait 60 years. Improper burial still yielded officials, but no emperor.

Realizing Liu Changsheng intended this for himself—an orphaned soul—I buried his ashes here. Celestial tombs restore scattered souls, enabling reincarnation.