Chapter 45: The Pattern of Yujing, Dragon

“Great Night Not Bright… Not Bright…”

He Fei stared at the photo in his hand, icy eyes flickering with a sharp gleam.

“I remember… on the day my sister was harmed, these people were also at the He family home…”

Speaking, He Fei turned toward the corner and asked in a low voice: “Do you have proof… that they were behind my sister’s fate?”

“No.”

From the corner, a low, slightly magnetic voice drifted softly.

“Then you…” He Fei paused slightly, unable to help saying, “still want their lives.”

“What connection is there between the two?” came the low, magnetic voice, laced with a cold smile.

“I merely have some past ties with their boss.”

“Bai Buran? Isn’t he just a self-taught Daoist? How could he possibly be connected to someone like you?”

He Fei’s gaze darkened, unable to resist glancing at the corner—this man he’d recruited was terrifyingly powerful; he doubted even the entire He family could produce a second like him.

“Self-taught? Bai Buran… he’s no ordinary figure… come to think of it, we haven’t seen each other in many years.”

The low, magnetic voice sighed softly, as if savoring the past.

“You should know I don’t kill lightly—the times have changed…”

“Do you know what’s special about Yujing City’s layout?”

The low, slightly hoarse voice abruptly cut him off, shifting topic to ask an unrelated question.

“What’s special about it?” He Fei didn’t understand why the other asked this.

“Rivers, mountains, seas each hold dragons; riding wind, crossing moon, glimpsing immortal traces…” came the low, magnetic voice softly.

“China’s history has always been shaped by the nation’s dragon veins…”

“Look…”

From the corner, the mysterious figure suddenly pointed at the map on the wall: “China’s map traces a line along Kunlun Mountains, Qilian Mountains, Qinling, Daba Mountains, Taihang Mountains, and Yanshan—its flow resembles a dragon…”

“Chang’an and Luoyang sit atop the dragon’s head, Shangjing lies just below the head; mountains are stone, yang in nature.”

He Fei pondered—Chang’an and Luoyang had, since ancient times, been the capitals of successive dynasties, interwoven with one another.

As for Shangjing, needless to say, it was today’s capital of China.

“These three cities form the head of the stone dragon—stable, heavy, grounded; establishing a capital here ensures enduring national fortune,” added the low, magnetic voice.

“But Yujing City is different—it lies at the head of the water dragon, the Yangtze River; water is yin, having form yet ever-flowing…”

“During Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s reign, court sorcerers claimed there was imperial qi in the Jiangdong region, so he traveled east to suppress it, carving Yujing to sever its qi—the stone at today’s Fangshan Shiwu marks where he cut it.”

He Fei fell silent—he had read this historical account before.

It meant that during Qin Shi Huang’s time, a master had sensed imperial qi here, so the emperor ordered the excavation of Zhongfu—today’s Fangshan—to channel Huai River through the city, dispersing the qi; Huai River is today’s Liujin River.

Ever since, Jinling could never rise to dominate the realm.

“When Zhuge Liang visited Jiangdong, he marveled at this land’s ‘dragon coiled at Zhongfu, tiger crouched at Shitou’—within and without the city lie three mountains and one river: north of mountains, south of water; west of mountains, east of water—perfect for an imperial capital…”

“But the terrain is higher in the south and lower in the north, higher in the east and lower in the west—all yin—thus possessing imperial momentum but lacking vital qi…”

“Though Yujing City is also called ‘Shitou City,’ using the name to compensate for its weakness and stabilize the realm, the grand pattern was formed by heaven—so all six dynasties that made it capital perished prematurely.”

Yet Yujing thrives on water—lacking stability but brimming with spiritual grace; since ancient times, it has been famed for its literary culture, its ten-mile Liujin River, countless nobles and generals, countless talented scholars and beauties! “Why are you telling me this?” He Fei raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “Though Yujing lacks imperial qi, it still sits atop the Yangtze’s water dragon vein—don’t you see how many ‘little dragons’ it has nurtured?” came the low, magnetic voice softly.

Since ancient times, dragon veins, in the eyes of cultivators, were sacred fengshui sites; if properly harnessed, they could even lead to immortality and defy fate.

“You mean…” He Fei pondered.

In fact, the location of Taoyuan Square lies atop a dragon vein in the Jinning District—but specifically atop seven dragon fangs, the most ferocious of all.

When construction first broke ground, seven coffins were unearthed from underground.

“That was the technique of Maoshan—called ‘Seven Stars Sealing Mouth,’ also known as ‘Seven Coffins Suppressing Evil’…” continued the low, magnetic voice.

“Maoshan is no ordinary Daoist mountain—its masters have emerged endlessly through the ages. The Daoist who laid this pattern was a true master; the Seven Stars Sealing Mouth placed food upon the dragon’s fangs—when the dragon’s mouth has food, bloodshed is avoided.”

Unfortunately, when Taoyuan Square broke ground, those seven coffins were dug up, breaking the original pattern—since then, accidents have been constant, with countless deaths each year.

“What are you getting at?” He Fei frowned.

“Since this company was founded, five people have died, haven’t they?” said the low, magnetic voice calmly.

“Gluttony is a path to immortality—even a wicked dragon loves to eat…”

“Live offerings as bait, the dragon’s fangs stir violently, its bloody mouth devours—this dragon vein may soon awaken…”

Here, the low, magnetic voice betrayed a faint smile, tinged with barely concealed excitement.

“What exactly do you want?”

“When the dragon’s mouth chews, what do you think it produces?” came the low, magnetic voice, answering with a question.

“Just say it plainly.”

He Fei said grimly, eyes filled with deep wariness—truthfully, though this man had aided him immensely, his origins and true nature remained utterly unknown to He Fei.

“When you eat, what’s in your mouth?”

“What?”

“Saliva!”

“Huh!?” He Fei froze.

“If you feed live offerings to the dragon’s mouth, the dragon’s mouth will inevitably produce dragon saliva… a treasure born of heaven and earth, nurtured within a dragon vein’s sacred ground…”

“Dragon saliva!?”

He Fei’s pupils shrank sharply—he had once read about “dragon saliva” in a certain alchemy text, but he didn’t know what exactly this treasure was.

“Dragon saliva… what use does it have?” He Fei pressed.

“It is one of the most delicious foods in the world…”

The low, magnetic voice revealed profound longing and ecstasy: “It has unimaginable nourishing effects on the Nascent Soul…”

“It can repair your sister’s Nascent Soul.”

“What?” He Fei’s face changed instantly: “Don’t lie to me.”

He Huan’s Nascent Soul had already been shattered—even the elders in his family and hidden fox immortals were powerless—but now this man claimed dragon saliva could restore it!? “You don’t even know what this treasure is… let alone restoring a Nascent Soul…”

“Even if you’ve entered ‘Great Night Not Bright,’ it might still pull you back.”

The low, magnetic voice dripped with profound seduction!!

(End of Chapter)