Chapter 119

Main Text Chapter 120: Nine Curves Revolving Around the Mountain

That fire-red gourd was carved from stone, over one meter tall, smooth all over, bright red like fire. If it had been erected here two thousand years ago, then the passage of two thousand years could have turned seas into mulberry fields, yet this stone gourd looks as if it were just finished.

When we first saw this gourd, we all felt a jolt; its color was so vividly bright, which really seemed strange. After pushing aside the dancing grass and moving closer to look, we realized it was made of red Yun stone as material. Yun stone naturally has a fire-red color; the earliest red dye was made by adding Yun stone powder.

The surface of this stone-carved gourd was also coated with an insect-repellent mixture, so that weeds and vines growing nearby all avoided it. For many years it has stood alone, placed in an inconspicuous corner of this valley.

I looked at the red stone gourd and couldn't help but wonder: "Why is it a gourd instead of a toad statue? If one wanted to fully release the form and momentum of this water dragon vein's auspicious spot, one should build an altar or erect an ancestral hall here."

Because it lies at the edge of the valley, countless vines hang down from the steep, rugged cliffs; beyond three steps everything is covered by vines. Pangzi, impatient, walked forward a few steps, used his entrenching shovel to push aside the blocking vines, and discovered something at the base of the cliff. He turned and shouted to us: "Come over here and take a look—there really is a sickly toad."

I and Shirley Yang went forward upon hearing the sound, and saw that beneath the cover of countless vines, facing the red stone gourd there stood a mountain god shrine built against the mountain. Although I couldn't make out the terrain here clearly, it should be built on the central axis of the mountain peak behind, using a "wedge-shaped large timber frame structure" divided into front and rear sections; the front gate of the main hall was entwined with countless vines, and some tiles and wood had already collapsed.

Although the green tiles and carved beams on top were all broken, because this place is the cavity of the water dragon vein, it can still retain wind and gather qi, so the overall framework is fairly preserved. The several layers of insect tunnels on the cliff wall have lost their function due to changes in soil and water; all the shrine's timber is rotten, yet under the pressure of abundant vegetation it has not collapsed, which could be considered a miracle.

This simple ancient building enshrining the mountain god has peacefully passed endless ages in this secluded valley corner, thanks to special timber and construction techniques, as well as the valley's extremely low rainfall.

I just don't know what the red stone gourd placed before the shrine door is used for; it may be related to the mountain god's form. Ancients believed that the five elements—metal, wood, water, fire, earth—each have governing spirits, and every mountain and river likewise. However, due to differing customs, geography, and cultural backgrounds, the appearance of shrines is not uniform.

We looked up and saw that although the shrine was layered with vines, it currently showed no sign of collapse. Many birds have nested on the eaves, indicating the air quality here is fine, so we needn't worry about toxic mountain miasma. Thus we removed our gas masks, pushed aside the vines at the door, and the damaged big door gave way with a push.

I stepped inside and saw that the main hall was also overgrown with various plants. The shrine is not large. The clay idol on the altar had fallen over; it is a black-faced deity, expressionless, eyes slightly closed, its body also clad in a black robe of clay. Although pushed by vines from the altar into the corner, it still gives off a feeling of cold, solemn dignity.

Beside the mountain god clay idol stand two clay mountain ghosts, both with green faces and fangs, resembling yakshas; the left one holds a fire-red gourd, the right one clasps a toad with both hands.

Seeing these, I suddenly realized: of course, the toad and the gourd belong to the mountain god; I just don't know what the mountain god old man wants to do with these two items.

Pangzi said: "Probably used to hold liquor, drinking while eating sickly toads as a snack—Da Jin Ya that brat just loves this sort of thing, though he eats frog legs."

Seeing the desolate, bleak state of the mountain god shrine, with weeds overgrown, truly moves one's feelings; I can't help but recall the days when Pangzi and I were so poor we had to sell our watches, feeling somewhat uneasy. I said to Pangzi and Shirley Yang: "The mountain god is supposed to bless a locality; a shrine should receive incense offerings, yet now it looks like this deserted scene—rise and fall have their numbers. Even the mountain god old man has his hard times, let alone ordinary folk; indeed, yin and yang are one principle, success and failure alike."

Shirley Yang said to me: "You say all this—are you perhaps hatching some other scheme? Or do you still want to hold a memorial service?"

I shook my head: "No need for worship; we might as well lift the fallen clay idol back to its original place and offer the mountain god old man an American cigarette, so he blesses our journey smoothly, without mishap; later, if we make any progress, we can come back to recast his golden body and add incense."

Pangzi said beside me: "I see that praying for anything is utterly useless; I just trust my own arms and legs, not heaven nor earth. If that mountain god brat really had spiritual power, how could he not even protect himself? In my view, let him lie down— as the saying goes, nothing beats dumplings, standing is inferior to lying down. Come on, let's go check the back."

Seeing no one willing to help, I gave up and followed them into the rear hall. I saw that the rear hall had been built inside the left side of the insect valley's peak, narrower than the front hall. In the middle stands a jade stone screen, bearing a portrait of the mountain god old man, similar in form to the clay idol in the front hall, but comparatively blurry, making his facial features hard to discern; there are no mountain ghosts accompanying it on either side. This stone screen appears not to be artificially carved, but a natural pattern.

Turning past the jade stone screen, at the very back of the shrine are nine huge stone toads arrayed side‑to‑side. At a glance I felt my eyes light up—sure enough, it matches the number of the nine‑curve revolving mountain. This mechanism is obvious to those who understand the "Dragon Change Classic"; if one does not grasp the essence of water‑dragon feng shui, knowing only the eight trigrams of the I Ching, one will most likely treat it as the nine‑palace number and thus never find the hidden passage in a lifetime.

Looking more closely, I saw that the mouths of the nine stone toads open and close, and their heads face different directions. The mouths of these stone toad carvings can move, and there are stone grooves allowing the bodies to rotate; each of the nine toads can turn in four directions, and combined with the opening and closing of the mouths, calculating how many different arrangements exist really taxes the brain. Moreover, these stone mechanisms should be pushed from left to right in order; if moved randomly, after three consecutive misalignments the mechanism will jam completely.

I then had Pangzi help; following the number of the nine-turn circuit, I opened and closed the toad mouths from left to right, then, using the 'shield' character from the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Technique together with the conversion mnemonic from the Yi Long Jing, I arranged the stone toads one by one in their corresponding directions.

After completing all that, there was no reaction whatsoever in the inner hall. By rights the nine-turn circuit facing the mountain should be flawless, so why is there no sign of a secret door opening?

Shirley Yang caught on quicker, so she had us go outside the hall to look; we hurried back out to search and eventually found the exterior of the mountain god's hall. There we saw that the gourd in front of the hall had split into two halves at some unknown time, exposing a stone door beneath.

This stone door was carved into the shape of a toad's large mouth, flat and low, made of fiery red cloud-patterned stone, with simple patterns etched on it, and on each side there are two large copper rings that can be pulled upward.

This mechanism is ingeniously designed; even if someone knows that the nine toads are the trigger for the stone door, without knowing the solution they cannot find the external entrance, no matter how much explosives they use to blast it flat.

Shirley Yang asked, 'This stone door is oddly crafted—why does it resemble a toad's mouth? I don't know what lies inside; does it truly lead to a passage to the main tomb?'

I told her, 'The marks in the Mausoleum Pacifying Manual are correct; this must be an underground passage, and it surely leads to the cave's star point nearest the Water Dragon Yun. Reaching the Bright Tower for sacrifice seems possible only by passing through here. As for why a toad is used as a marker, I can't figure that out either.'

In ancient China the toad appears in many symbolic forms; one New Year picture shows a chubby boy holding a fishing line with a gold thread, playing with a three-legged toad—this is called Liu Hai'er Playing with the Golden Toad. The saying that a three-legged toad is hard to find comes from that tale. Yet in some localities folk customs emphasize the toad's poisonous nature. However, the two stone toad statues opposite us are neither three-legged nor covered in warts; they may simply be the mountain god's plaything.

Pangzi slapped the Chicago Typewriter in his hand and said, 'At worst we'll run into a big diseased toad down there; with this gun what's there to fear? Even if the ancestor of the diseased toad showed up, we could blast it into a honeycomb.'

Since we acquired the powerful firepower of the American submachine gun, we are effectively as if we've added a big* mountain, but I still remind Pangzi: 'The Xian King's Tomb is laid out with extreme tightness; although this stone door is extremely concealed, we can't rule out that there aren't fearsome mechanisms inside. Once we go down, we'll meet force with force and water with earth—there's nothing to fear.'

Having said that, the three of us sprang into action, threading a rope through the copper ring on one side of the stone door and hauling it up; with a bang the stone door opened, exposing a narrow passage. I fired a flare from my signal gun into the depths, piercing the underground darkness. The wan light illuminated the depths of the cavern, revealing countless huge bones and tusks—a vast burial trench.