Chapter 180

I thought to myself, no need to ask—this must be the True Person of the Complete Hexagram. I blended into the crowd as an onlooker and saw Master Ma pointing at the mountainside, tracing directions and dotting acupoints, telling those people: "The northwest mountain is level, the eastern mountain slightly concave, with a screen-like barrier for protection and a dragon vein winding around. If our village school were built here, it would surely produce many top scholars."

At that moment, a middle-aged mountain villager carrying a bundle appeared—unremarkable in looks, seemingly just passing by. He overheard Master Ma's remarks by chance and said to the crowd: "Judging by your actions, are you planning to build a house here? This mountain is where white ants gather; constructing a yang residence here would surely invite disaster and harm people."

Master Ma, accustomed to being flattered and never missing a judgment in assessing situations, had never faced opposition. Seeing this stranger—clearly not a local—he felt irritated and asked: "How would an outsider like you know there are white ants in this mountain?"

The passing villager replied: "The eastern mountain is concave, the western mountain level. The concave, sheltered spot lies to the northwest as a barrier, then bends southward, encircling this mountain. Though it has the form of wind concealment, it lacks the force. Wind condenses and qi stagnates; wind breeds insects. Hence, the earliest traditional character for 'wind' contains an insect radical. When wind meets mountain, white ants arise. In the Qing Wu techniques or the I Ching, this place should be termed 'mountain wind gu.' Building towers leads to collapse; erecting houses brings ruin."

Master Ma asked: "This place has clear waters and beautiful mountains—how could there be gu phenomena? Though there are mountains and wind, I've never heard of 'mountain wind gu.' Since you insist, please tell me where this gu comes from."

The villager pointed down the mountain and said: "White ants never act alone; wherever they appear, they come in swarms. The character 'gu' has three insect radicals above—three signifies multitude, and 'multitude' means many. Below is the 'vessel' radical, resembling an ant nest. Though the surface here seems intact, below it has been hollowed out by ant tunnels. I am merely a passing idler; right or wrong, gain or loss—none concerns me. I only speak out of pity, lest innocent lives be harmed by collapsing houses. My words may be blunt; if improper, I hope for forgiveness. Now I take my leave."

After speaking, the villager turned to go, but Master Ma grabbed him: "Wait! You can't leave until you clarify. You claim there are ant nests in this mountain—still uncertain. But explaining ants via the 'gu' character is pure fabrication. Such street-trickery cannot fool me."

The villager had no choice but to explain: "Since ancient times, feng shui and divinatory arts have been inseparable—hence the term 'yin-yang feng shui.' This place lies beside the Ma River, whose waters flow around the western mountain. Wherever white ants go, water must be present. Thus, the 'gu' hexagram in the I Ching also contains the phrase 'advantageous to cross the great river.' Mountain wind gu therefore implies advantage in crossing great rivers."

Master Ma laughed upon hearing this: "My ancestors for eight generations were all diviners and burial masters. I know the I Ching backward and forward. If you try to bluff your way through divinatory arts, you won't get past me. The 'advantageous to cross the great river' in the gu hexagram should describe extreme corruption, chaos followed by order, turning disorder into correctness—hence this hexagram signifies yuan heng and advantage in crossing great rivers. Your absurd interpretation is laughable."

Just then, several eager villagers ran down the slope, grabbed iron shovels, and dug a few spadefuls—sure enough, they uncovered clumps of white ants. Everyone couldn't help but look at Master Ma and the villager with new eyes.

The villager then said to Master Ma: "According to you, 'advantageous to cross the great river' is mere empty talk—swap in any similar-sounding word and it's just as usable. This shows your shallow grasp of divinatory arts. In fact, in this hexagram, 'advantageous to cross the great river' has a specific meaning: the gu hexagram has Gen above, Xun below, thus belonging to the Xun palace. Xun is wood; within Gen, the inner trigram is Kan, which is water. Wood crossing water—hence 'advantageous to cross the great river.' I have other matters to attend and cannot debate further. If true feng shui treasure lands truly existed in this world, there would be no need for geomancers to advise others. I urge you not to obsess over this. Mountains and rivers can speak; burial masters eat without worry." Without another glance at Master Ma's shifting expression—pale one moment, flushed the next—he turned and walked away.

Standing nearby, I was stunned speechless. Indeed, there are mountains beyond mountains, heavens beyond heavens. I, who possessed half a manuscript of the 'Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art,' had felt rather pleased with myself—until now. Compared to this unremarkable passing villager, my meager scraps were nothing worth displaying. These years, I've known only feng shui, not yin-yang. Suddenly, I realized: this villager understood hexagrams like the back of his hand and mastered feng shui secrets. Today, fate had him cross my path—how could I let such a connection slip by?

In that daze, the passing villager had already descended the slope. The crowd had left Master Ma—who claimed to memorize the I Ching backward—speechless; he seemed no more than a stuffed bun. I couldn't even bring myself to glance at him again. I took three strides, made them two, and hurried after him.

The mountain path wound and twisted; after passing a depression, I finally caught up. I cut straight to the point: I wanted to learn about hexagram studies. The villager had no pretensions and chatted casually. Turns out, he was visiting relatives. He needed to hurry to catch a vehicle home. Seeing my chance, I skipped pleasantries and asked directly: Could he tell me about the 'Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art'? Hearing this, he showed a flicker of surprise, then readily sat with me in the forest below the mountain. We discussed at length: the sixteen-character heavenly hexagram forms a complete system, comprising the four divisions of decision, image, form, and technique. Said to have been created by King Wen of Zhou, but due to its involvement with unfathomable spirits and gods, few could glimpse its path. After the Han dynasty, it was lost, leaving only the eight hexagrams of divinatory arts. Later occult odd numbers—including feng shui secret arts—all trace back to this.

In the late Qing dynasty, there lived a famed gold-pan-washing corpse-robber, known as Zhang Sanshengzi, or Grandfather Zhang. Allegedly, he unearthed the complete heavenly hexagram pattern from an ancient tomb and combined it with the corpse-robbers' proprietary 'Seek the Dragon Decree,' composing the 'Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art.' But this book seized heavenly secrets, feared to damage yang lifespan, so he destroyed the yin-yang technique half, passing the remaining half to his disciple, the Yin-Yang Eye Sun Guofu. Even his own biological descendants received nothing.

This mountain villager was Zhang Yingchuan, descendant of Grandfather Zhang. His knowledge came solely from oral teachings by elders, especially his deep study of divinatory arts. As we talked, we grew closer: the Yin-Yang Eye Sun Guofu was my grandfather's teacher. How remarkable—he's no outsider. From generation to generation, we belong to the same peer group; I may call him elder brother.

Zhang Yingchuan learned my purpose in seeking the sixteen characters and said: This matter is extremely difficult. The sixteen characters cannot be found. Even if buried in some ancient tomb, searching for them is like seeking a needle in the ocean. Moreover, it involves heavenly secrets—finding them may not even be fortunate.

I felt that 'heavenly secrets' might be understood differently. I believed the so-called heavenly secrets were merely the secrets of those seeking immortality, a confidential tool of the ruling class. Yet I have no interest in the delusions of immortality seekers. I only wish to remove the curse burdening me after death—thus I must find the way to use the 'Dust-Bead Pearl' from the Dragon Bone Heavenly Book. Since it concerns life and death, I gladly brave extraordinary dangers to dig graves in deep mountains and old forests. Even if I die on the battlefield, it's better than lying in wait as my blood slowly congeals, day after day of torment.

Zhang Yingchuan said: "If a brother meets trouble, it's the elder brother's duty to step forward. But alas, my abilities are low, and the family's corpse-robbing skills were not passed down—I can't help much. Yet divinatory arts encompass all phenomena. The ancients said: 'Change and transformation is the Dao; constancy through ages is the Jing.' In heaven and earth, fortune and misfortune follow certain patterns. I have slight understanding of this Dao—though I can only gauge outlines, it's better than nothing. Why not give you a lesson here? Let us divine the heavenly way to clarify human affairs, and forecast your journey to seek the dragon."

Hearing this, I rejoiced as if granted guidance—like parting clouds to see the sun. Zhang Yingchuan spoke of hexagram divination: it applies to anything; wherever the mind reaches, heavenly secrets arise. He casually plucked a few leaves, tossed them down, and waited to see the hexagram image—yet felt astonished: "How strange! The heavenly numbers are here—again, a mountain wind gu hexagram: yuan heng, advantageous to cross the great river, first jia three days, last jia three days."

I knew nothing of this, so I hurriedly asked: "What does this hexagram mean? Can our curse be lifted?"

Zhang Yingchuan replied: "When the mother of gu finds the middle path, advantage in crossing great rivers—there will be affairs to attend. Wind comes from the west, thus the main force lies in the west; westward travel brings harvest. Yet wind stokes fire, and since this hexagram involves wood crossing water, this fire is ominous—meeting water turns it to life. If one fails to meet water, success cannot be had; but meeting water brings the middle path—yet its auspiciousness is not certain. First jia three days, last jia three days—end then beginning; heaven's way. Remember, remember."

I had long felt uneasy about the hidden land, brooding for days, unable to decide to go to Tibet. Now, seeing the hexagram's indication, I made up my mind at once: if I do not go to Kunlun Mountain, this calamity cannot be resolved. So I asked again: What exactly is the 'Dust-Bead Pearl'? Is it an eye, or a phoenix?

Zhang Yingchuan gazed at the leaves for a long while, then answered: "It is both an eye and a phoenix—this thing is longevity."

I said: "How strange—how can it be both an eye and a phoenix? Surely not the phoenix's eye? The phoenix is a mythical divine beast; how could there be phoenix eyes in this world?"

Zhang Yingchuan explained the hexagram numbers to me: first jia three days, last jia three days, end then beginning—these are all cycles of recurrence. Legend says the phoenix is an immortal body, reborn from ashes—this matches the symbol of endless life. The eye is two; three days is odd. Though the day resembles an eye, it is not an eye, so insufficient for an eye. Yet with three in front, one extra—again, it becomes an eye. Judging by the heavenly numbers, this object may be a symbol of immortality, resembling a human eye yet not a human eye. But what exactly it is—divine mechanism insufficient, contemplation unable to penetrate.

Though unable to pinpoint exactly what the 'Dust-Bead Pearl' is, it has opened my mind. I am utterly convinced. Before me, that thick mist—finally, a slit has been torn open. I had not previously told him about the 'Dust-Bead Pearl,' yet he, with just a few leaves and two questions, deduced the two characters 'longevity.' Combined with recent events, everything fits. This eight-hexagram number is already marvelously precise—if we had the sixteen characters, true divine powers would be ours.

Zhang Yingchuan said: "Today's heavenly numbers are exhausted. To occupy more would defy heavenly way. Just met, yet must part ways. The accuracy or not of hexagram divination depends on the harmony of thought and heavenly secrets. Perhaps a hair's breadth off leads to a thousand-mile error. The lesson I just gave may serve as reference—do not blindly believe, nor wholly disbelieve. May you govern yourself well. If fate brings us together again, we shall meet."

I memorized every word of his hexagram verses. Upon returning from Tibet, if I still have life, I will surely visit again. Thus we exchanged addresses. I escorted him all the way to the mountain station before parting. I stood in place, savoring his words—yet again felt the profundity unfathomable.