Chapter Thirty-One: The Ancient Tree and the Spirit Orchid (2)

They arrived at a place called Little Spring Pool. The terrain here was rather peculiar: in front of them, a winding road led toward the city, and the principles of feng shui were evident in the clear flow of water. The true dragon’s lair was located on a stone; he had never seen a dragon’s lair on rock before. They climbed atop the large boulder, which formed a slanting stone hill. The remarkable thing was that, directly opposite, there was another massive stone, lower than the first. The ceremonial table before the bright hall of the dragon’s lair was ingeniously set upon this lower stone. A stream flowed gently between the two rocks, and another current circled around the left side of the large stone, forming a small pool below on the left. From the front of the hall, one could see the sand formations encircling tightly, wave after wave converging from afar, gathering their energy to form the lair.

The stone resembled the shape of a turtle, its head stretched downward to the left, as if drinking from the little pool. The stream continued alongside the road’s ditch, flowing into the distance.

This was a site of superb feng shui—if someone were buried here, in three to five years the family would surely prosper, with some rising to high office. He Zhixing’s compass pointed to the Qian and Hai directions; the black-and-white taiji fish in the center flashed, especially the black jade fish, which shone brilliantly for an instant before fading away.

The Qian and Hai position, as indicated by the compass, aligned perfectly with the center of the ceremonial table and the encircling sand formations. Old Chen measured it as well, and the two men’s determination of the true lair was nearly identical. They exchanged a glance and smiled in satisfaction.

Having marked the dragon’s lair, Old Chen said, “This is an excellent spot, but it’s not easy to open a grave here right away; digging into stone is difficult. Let’s look at the others first.”

“Alright, that sounds good,” He Tianming replied.

They proceeded to the second spot, which was relatively close by, situated on the mountainside below the summit. Climbing a mountain nearly a kilometer high was indeed exhausting. Among the group, Old Chen was the least robust, and halfway up, he was already breathing a little heavily. The others showed no sign of fatigue; He Yufang and her uncle He Tianming were both rural folk used to hard labor, so this climb was nothing to them, and He Zhixing exercised daily and possessed true qi, so he felt no exhaustion at all.

At last, they reached the site. “Wow, what a sweeping, open view,” someone exclaimed. The bright hall was spacious, the ceremonial table was set on the right-side hills, affording a distant view of the misty silhouette of the county seat. On both sides, the sand formations gathered and converged before the dragon’s lair.

Old Chen exchanged a look of surprise with He Zhixing. He Yufang’s father was truly a remarkable man, deeply versed in the study of feng shui. Otherwise, he would never have found two such auspicious sites. These were not places one could stumble upon at random—at the very least, it would require traversing countless mountains, winding paths, and hidden forests, searching through a thousand peaks and ten thousand streams, and even then, there was no guarantee of success.

They decided on this site, selected the proper orientation, and chose an auspicious date for breaking ground: two days later.

During this time, He Zhixing found He Yufang and went to see the ancient tree. He asked He Yufang to fetch two ropes, each several meters long, and then attached iron hooks to the ends. “What is he up to?” He Yufang wondered.

He Zhixing intended to climb the tree, so without further ado, he threw the rope upward, hooking it securely onto a branch. With true qi flowing through him, he was extraordinary: he grasped the rope, braced his foot, and with movements as smooth as a machine, swiftly ascended several meters to the lowest branch in less than two minutes.

He Yufang called up to him, “Zhixing, remember! The orchid is on the third level, on the largest branch.”

He Zhixing looked down and smiled, “Got it.”

He picked up another rope he had prepared earlier, threw it up, and hooked it onto the second tier of branches. Repeating this process, he soon reached the third tier, securing himself on a branch near the largest one—he dared not hook directly onto the biggest branch, lest he damage the precious ancient spirit orchid.

On the third tier, he steadied himself and quickly