Chapter 178

I listened to what Uncle Ming said, and it actually concerned the Demon Kingdom of Tibet, so I immediately focused all my attention. I had seen the nine-story treasure pagoda before—it was a tomb tower built of squared timber and rammed earth, the prototype of pagoda burial. I had never heard of any princess of the Demon Kingdom; perhaps Uncle Ming's information was mistaken, or maybe it was something like the "Ghost Mother." If one were to say the fiercest zombies are the corpse kings deep in the Hunan mountains, said to appear once every hundred years and each time cause great harm, then are glacial crystal corpses similar?

Uncle Ming said the "glacial crystal corpses" on snow mountains were completely different—they were corpses worshipped as evil gods, their bodies crystallized into ice crystals from inside to out, unique in the world, so they spared no expense to obtain her. But how could such an ancient evil thing easily enter a yang dwelling? People in Hong Kong, Nanyang, and elsewhere are especially superstitious about this. The dried corpses Uncle Ming dealt with often came with complete coffins, and each time he handled one, he had to place a jade scallion inside the coffin, taking the homophone of "chong" to dispel yin evil and bad luck.

As for the "ice mountain crystal corpse," it is more like an evil god's idol than an ancient corpse, so they wanted to use the divine object of the Legalist ancestral mirror to suppress it; otherwise, even if they dug the corpse out of the snow mountain, they would lack the courage to bring it back. Tibet is such a mysterious place that many things cannot be guessed by common sense—who knows what curse might descend upon one's head? Since the ancient mirror was unavailable, they had to look for something else. Once they had a lead, Uncle Ming would organize a team to enter Tibet and excavate the "glacial crystal corpse" according to clues in the scriptures. This business was too big, so Uncle Ming had to personally supervise, making sure his subordinates didn't damage the ancient corpse.

As for organizing the team to enter Tibet, so far there has been no suitable candidate. Uncle Ming hopes I can go along, and if we could have a few Gold-Seeking Corps officers to assist, that would certainly increase the chances of success.

I did not agree immediately, secretly calculating in my mind. It turned out Uncle Ming had invested so much not just for one ancient mirror, but also wanted us to lend a hand. I had several questions: How did Uncle Ming know we had found an ancient mirror in Yunnan? He should only know that I and Pangzi are tomb robbers, but he doesn't know we carry the "Gold-Seeking Talisman" and are Gold-Seeking Corps officers. Could all this have been leaked by Pangzi?

Only then did I learn that Uncle Ming actually doesn't know Pangzi at all and has never spoken to him. Uncle Ming said there was a fortune-telling master, truly deserving of the title "divine calculator," all thanks to his guidance. At first, Uncle Ming heard news from Panjiayuan that an ancient mirror had been discovered in Yunnan. After inquiring everywhere with no result, he found a self-proclaimed reborn Chen Tuan fortune-telling blind man and asked him to divine, hoping to learn which group had recently obtained an ancient mirror in the deep mountains of Yunnan. The blind old man didn't even think—he immediately cast a hexagram, then wrote an address, saying to find a man named Wang Kaixuan and another named Hu Bayi at that address; these two are the most skilled Gold-Seeking Corps officers in the world today, with the courage to withstand ten thousand men, unfathomable mechanisms, the loyalty of Yun Chang, the ferocity of Yi De, the bravery of Zi Long, and the wisdom of Kong Ming. That ancient mirror must be the one they dug up in Yunnan.

Uncle Ming said that seeing it today confirmed the previous day's hexagram words—the old man is truly a living immortal, his calculations as clear as candlelight illuminating tortoise shells, not off by the slightest. Not only is he a rebirth of Laozi Chen Tuan, he might even be possessed by King Wen of Zhou.

I and Da Jin Ya heard this and forced ourselves to keep straight faces, not daring to laugh, thinking: if this level of fortune-telling could be called "illuminating the tortoise shell," then we two could also be King Wen of Zhou. But this time the blind man actually did something useful—he didn't lead us astray, just gilded our faces. People lift people, and the higher they lift, the higher they rise, so I and Da Jin Ya immediately put on surprised expressions and told Uncle Ming: "I never expected there to be such a worldly transcendent master!" Previously I didn't really understand the meanings of "knowing the unknown beforehand" and "predicting events like a god," but today I truly experienced them vividly. If I had the fortune to pay respects and receive his guidance, it would be truly beneficial for life—but as ordinary mortals, we probably don't have such a chance.

Uncle Ming said it's not that there's no chance— that old immortal is near Tranquil Pavilion Park, and one hexagram costs one hundred yuan; if you pay more, he can come to your home to assess feng shui. But he has a habit: he won't sit unless you've milked the cow. My friend just happens to have a vehicle—if you want to go see him, I can have Ah Dong drive you.

I thanked Uncle Ming for his kindness, but if I continued speaking I would inevitably laugh and give myself away, so I quickly changed the subject, no longer discussing the blind fortune-teller. I told Uncle Ming that, logically, I could take on the job of excavating the "glacial crystal corpse" from the nine-story demon tower in Tibet, and even without the Legalist ancestral mirror, I could find a substitute. As for what exactly, I can't say now— in short, different methods for different tasks, and we Gold-Seeking Corps officers have our own ways. But I currently have a more important matter to attend to; until I have results, I cannot commit, and I will give you a definite reply in a few days.

Uncle Ming clearly relies heavily on us, repeatedly urging us and promising to give us some deposit first. I and Da Jin Ya have long been salivating over that Yang Guifei's lung-moistening and thirst-quenching jade phoenix, so we asked if we could have it first. Once we free up our hands, we will certainly consider your business.

Uncle Ming hastily put away the jade phoenix: "Don't rush, don't rush—after success, these will all be yours, but using this jade vessel as a deposit is really inappropriate; I'll give you something else instead." He then took out a ceramic jar from under the sandalwood rack. Looking at this ceramic jar, it is very old, the rim worn smooth so the blue-and-white pattern is no longer visible. I and Da Jin Ya immediately lost interest, thinking this Uncle Ming is still the old miser who won't shoot until he sees the rabbit—this junk could be bought by the cartload at Panjiayuan.

Uncle Ming mysteriously pulled out a small oil-paper bundle from the ceramic jar—originally there was something inside the jar, tightly wrapped in over ten layers of oil paper. First he scraped off the wax applied to the outside of the oil paper, then peeled off the layers one by one. I and Da Jin Ya looked and saw that inside this layered wrapping were actually two pieces of yellowed, dried leaves.

I mimicked Uncle Ming's tone and said: "Are you kidding? This isn't just dried leaves? We, the illustrious Gold-Seeking Corps officers, have never missed seeing any funerary object!" As I spoke I picked up a piece and examined it—it felt slightly harder than a leaf, but certainly nothing valuable. I put it back, gave Da Jin Ya a look, and angrily said to Uncle Ming: 【Tuai】 "If you're unwilling to let go, fine, but producing two leaves to sting someone—are you deliberately causing trouble for our compatriots?" Da Jin Ya quickly moved to stop me, saying to Uncle Ming: "Our Master Hu is just like this! From childhood he's borne deep grudges, sees capitalists and can't suppress his anger. If he really gets angry, no one can stop him—I advise you to hurry up and take out the Yang Damei's jade phoenix she holds in her mouth, or he'll tear down your house."

Uncle Ming thought we were truly angry, fearing to offend us, and hurriedly explained: "Are you kidding! Uncle Hu, how could this be leaves! What kind of leaves are like this! This is a treasure I bought from South China Sea pirates when I was sailing there—it's dragon scales, dragon scales!"

To prove his words, Uncle Ming filled a teacup with clear water, picked out one piece of the yellowed dried leaf, and gently placed it in the cup. See— the so-called dragon scale, upon meeting clear water, immediately doubled in size, its color turning from yellow to green, crystal clear and translucent, as if a piece of jade had been steeped in the teacup.

I had heard before in Fujian that dragon scales are very valuable, and in some places they are also called Runhai Stone, but I had never seen them with my own eyes. It is said that placing one on a ship can avoid wind and waves, offering a few pieces in dry places can pray for rain, and steeping them in tea can treat asthma. As for whether they are truly dragon scales, that's unclear—perhaps they are just the scales of some giant fish. This item, though good, is not rare, not as substantial as that jade phoenix. So I pretended not to understand and said to Da Jin Ya: "How could this be dragon scale? Gold Master, you see—doesn't this look somewhat like the... what's it called... we use in cooking?"

Da Jin Ya said: "Shrimp chips! They expand when soaked in water, one dollar a big pack—our little San'er loves eating these, these two pieces aren't even enough to fill his tooth gaps!"

We tried every argument, but in the end we still didn't get the jade phoenix. This Runhai Stone, though slightly inferior, is better than nothing, so we simply took the ceramic jar as well. On the way back, Da Jin Ya asked me whether these two Runhai Stones could be worth several thousand Hong Kong dollars? I said nonsense—together they're worth eight thousand Hong Kong dollars at most, which would be not bad.

Da Jin Ya again asked me whether this time I'm really going to work for that old Hong Kong farmer, packing up and heading to Tibet's Kunlun Mountains.

I said don't look down on him just because he's an old Hong Kong farmer—he's quite rich; the money of Hong Kong farmers is still money, we can't discriminate against them as capitalists, their money isn't wasted for nothing. Besides, he holds clues to the tombs of the Tibetan Demon Kingdom, and both sides can make use of each other, but this matter still needs further discussion after we return. Right now we have something else to hurry up and do: go to Tranquil Pavilion Park to find the blind fortune-teller Chen, who knows the I Ching very well—the Zhouyi encompasses all things, but its root is the "Sixteen-Character Heavenly Hexagram"—I need to find him to inquire about this, so Shirley Yang won't come back and say I've been neglecting my duties all day.

So I and Da Jin Ya headed straight to Right An Gate, made a few inquiries, and found Chen the blind man giving fortune-telling in a pavilion, with a few people resting and watching the fun inside. See— Chen the blind man was feeling the bones of a middle-aged man who looked like an official, shaking his head and swaying as he said: "Face like a full moon, not ordinary; nose like a hanging gallbladder, with scale; faintly, the bones of later excellence; hall-like beams and pillars' body; within three years he will surely hold an important position. In my humble opinion, at least a department-level official! If he doesn't rise, let me go out and I'll surely hit a telephone pole!"

Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man thanked him profusely and paid. I saw the blind man was free, so I prepared to go over and speak with him, but just then another person came to ask him for a hexagram reading. This person was a Hong Kong merchant, saying his family members keep having accidents—could there be something wrong with the yang or yin residence feng shui? The blind man calculated on his fingers and asked: "Do you keep a dog at home?" The Hong Kong client replied: "There is a foreign dog, very well-behaved, and everyone in the family dotes on it."

The blind man asked about the dog's appearance and characteristics, then sighed: "Why keep this enemy creature! This foreign dog in a past life had a blood feud with you, and soon it will surely take revenge. I cannot bear to stand by and do nothing—after you return home, on the third day you may pretend to go to sleep, wait until the dog falls asleep, then make a dummy out of clothes and place it on the bed, then leave home far away; the next day, when the dog sees you missing, it will surely fly into a rage and die; you will then hang its corpse on an ancient tree in the deep mountains, let it rot and dissolve—remember, do not bury it in earth or burn it with fire."