Chapter Twenty-One: Treasures of Heaven and Earth

Yin City?

Who saved whom?

I held the blood jade, rubbing the inscription on the jade plaque with my thumb, letting my mind drift back to the moment the red-robed corpse appeared. This piece of jade must have come from her; the words inscribed likely had nothing to do with me. Perhaps they were tied to some ancient affair centuries past, and so were not something I needed to concern myself with.

Relief washed over me, but as my gaze fell again on the jade, I was startled to find that the inscription had vanished.

A cold shiver ran through me. It seemed as if I’d erased the words myself. I raised my thumb and saw a thin layer of white wax clinging to it; the jade itself bore a faint waxy smear where I’d rubbed. My mind went blank—damn, I really had wiped the inscription away.

Uneasy, I rubbed the jade with my forefinger, gathering the residual wax into a tiny mound. I brought it to my nose: the white wax was scentless, but there was a faint brackish tang, like river water. I was born with a keen nose; I could smell the salt in a sealed jar of pickled vegetables, which was why I never liked using public toilets.

Sitting in my chair, rolling the wax between my fingers, I sensed something was amiss. The red-robed corpse had indeed saved me from the riverbed that night, but I’d lost this blood jade long ago. Who had returned it to me? Was it the mysterious person who’d dragged me ashore? Could it have been the old boatman who ferried me across by day and appeared behind me that night? If it was him, what obligation did he have to intervene? If it wasn’t, who else could have appeared in the Hai River at such an hour?

I leaned toward the latter. I’d heard of this wax-sealing method—the insiders called it “leaving white.” Since the Ming Dynasty, people used it to inscribe secret messages on porcelain and jade slips. Such messages, hidden beneath wax, would withstand water and fire, invisible except under special light, easily destroyed without trace. Written as though unwritten—hence, “leaving white.”

The old boatman hardly seemed like someone from the trade. If not him, who could it have been?

I couldn’t yet determine the quality of this blood jade, but as I held it, its warmth never faded. Turning it over in my palm, I noticed a tiny hole at the tip of the teardrop shape. After a moment’s thought, I found a red cord in my drawer, threaded it through the hole, and hung the pendant around my neck. The jade pressed close to my skin, radiating a gentle heat like a furnace, bringing a constant, quiet comfort.

The ordeal at Hezi Village had nearly cost me my life; I needed time to piece it all together. After dozing for a while in the shop, I bent down, retrieved the “Ancient Manual of Treasure Suppression” from its hiding place, and began to read.

In any place graced by beautiful scenery and auspicious feng shui, there are often “Celestial Spirits and Earthly Treasures” concealed within.

Celestial Spirits and Earthly Treasures are rare wonders, said to be guarded by unseen forces. To disturb them carelessly is to invite ruin; only by special methods can one approach and take them.

The methods of treasure suppression are secret within the trade. The manual recorded only fragments, focusing more on the formation of Celestial Spirits and Earthly Treasures, and some ways to identify and deal with them.

Celestial Spirits and Earthly Treasures are two separate entities: Celestial Spirits are living things, Earthly Treasures are not.

Celestial Spirits are usually living creatures possessing sentience and cultivation, having absorbed the essence of sun and moon over many years, thereby transforming and producing a “treasure” within. The odds of this are less than one in ten thousand—a rare stroke of fate.

A centipede that has become a spirit may harbor a “Wind-Pacifying Pearl”; a fox, once it has cultivated, may possess a “Fire Cloud Elixir.” Such treasures are priceless, called “Highest Spirits.”

Others, though rare, can be formed by natural law after a full cycle of sixty years, and are known as “Middle Spirits.”

As for bezoars from cattle or “Horse Treasures,” while valuable and hard to find, they are considered “Lower Spirits.”

Earthly Treasures, on the other hand, are inanimate: gold, silver, gems, rare flowers, and precious herbs, all brimming with spiritual energy, imbued with the essence of the land.

Gold and silver, buried underground for ages, may eventually gather enough spirit to take on human form. Each type of treasure assumes a different guise, summarized by the saying: “Gold and silver as child servants, jade as a lovely maiden, pearls as little sisters, odd artifacts as ugly lads.”

Any treasure that can take human form is called an “Upper Treasure”—rare as dragons and phoenixes. Those rare flowers and herbs, though possessing restorative powers, are only “Middle Treasures.” As for precious items or rare herbs buried underground, even if worth a fortune, they remain “Lower Treasures.”

Clutching the manual, I began to suspect the woman’s corpse in the black coffin was perhaps the spirit-formed blood jade from the riverbed. Jade is innately spiritual, and after absorbing the river’s essence for years, perhaps, as the manual suggested, it could take the form of a delicate maiden.

This gave me some answers. After my experiences in Hezi Village, I found myself fascinated by the art of treasure suppression. If fate would allow me to enter this trade, even at nearly thirty, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement.

The manual contained little on the actual methods, but “Qi Watching Technique” was among them. I skimmed from the first to the last page, and at last, in the final notes, found some descriptions.

Every field has its own principles; in this line, there are four great skills: Sky Watching, Earth Appraisal, Dragon Treading, and Gatekeeping.

“Sky Watching” is observing celestial phenomena at night—locating auspicious stars and gauging their brightness to discern where fortune gathers and energy flows.

“Earth Appraisal” is studying the land and water—understanding feng shui and dragon veins, discerning the flow of vital energy and the value of sand and water.

“Dragon Treading” refers to practitioners of exceptional skill, those who can climb mountains to catch tigers or dive into the sea to seize dragons.

“Gatekeeping” means being broadly knowledgeable—master in mountain, medicine, physiognomy, fate, and divination. Reading words and faces, discerning intentions—these are the basics.

The blue energy I saw at the river mouth with my Qi Watching belonged to “Sky Watching,” a branch of feng shui. I knew a little of it, but the book’s descriptions were sketchy—the formulas scattered and incomplete. To put them into practice would require adapting to circumstances; reading alone would not suffice.

Closing the book, I shut my eyes, feeling as though the mysterious veil of a trade dormant for a thousand years was slowly being lifted before me.

When Jin Yitiao came knocking that night, I didn’t know when I’d fallen asleep. After a nap of over an hour, I awoke refreshed, positively brimming with energy. Even Jin Yitiao, upon seeing me, grinned and asked if I’d just come from a sauna.

He seemed to have been drinking, his words a jumble, but I gathered that as he was leaving, Jin Zhenbang had given him a sum for medical expenses—enough to keep him comfortable for a year.

Curious, I asked, “That Jin Zhenbang’s thief clan—shouldn’t it have been wiped out when the Four Olds were eliminated? How has he survived till now? How does he support so many people?”

Jin Yitiao smirked, closed the door, lit a cigarette, and counted on his fingers. “Real estate, KTVs, bars, logistics—you name it. Whatever business is profitable, you’ll find Jin Zhenbang’s shadow behind it. With his influence, nothing he touches fails to make money.”

“Even real estate?” I asked in surprise.

“Heh!” Jin Yitiao glanced at the door, lowered his voice, and said, “You know Jin City Group? One of Tianjin’s top real estate firms? The legal representative, Wu Deshui, is Jin Zhenbang’s top lackey. But compared to the woman at his side, he’s still a notch below.”

I nodded. That black-clad woman’s bearing—and her attitude toward Jin Zhenbang—clearly set her apart. I guessed that her reluctance to deal with the two thugs in my shop that day came from a desire not to dirty her own hands.

This only reaffirmed my resolve to keep my distance from such people. Every trade has its own way, but if you set foot into the muddy waters of the thief clan, you might never wash yourself clean.