To unravel the secrets of the "Dìxiān Village Ancient Tomb," one must first understand the origins of the "Guānshān Tàibǎo," a group of tomb-raiding specialists whose lineage runs deep with Liu Bowen, the enigmatic Ming Dynasty figure who transmitted the "Shāobǐng Gē."

In the twilight years of the Yuan Dynasty, chaos gripped the land, and as local uprisings against the tyrannical Yuan rule flared across the realm, the proverb rang true: "In times of great disorder, extraordinary men emerge."

It was then that Zhu Hongwu established the Great Ming, driving the northern barbarians back to the steppes. One day, within the Golden Throne Hall, using a baked flatbread as a symbolic xiàng (image/omen), he asked Liu Bowen to divine the future fortunes and downfalls of the realm. Heaven's secrets, however, are difficult to articulate, prompting Liu Bowen to immediately compose the Shāobǐng Gē, crafting lyrics based on the hexagrams, embedding the destinies of prosperity and failure for the Ming era and beyond within that single set of verses.

This is a common tale among the populace, yet one not recorded in official histories. In truth, Liu Bowen did cast lots for Zhu Yuanzhang, but the event did not transpire exactly as legend suggests.

Even before Zhu Yuanzhang had fully claimed the mandate to rule from the south, Liu Bowen recognized him as the "True Dragon Son of Heaven," destined for the "Dignity of the Nine-Five." Thus, he pledged his service. Because Liu Bowen, or Liu Ji, spoke with extraordinary eloquence and his predictions were invariably accurate, Zhu Yuanzhang held him in high esteem, consulting him on matters great and small. Liu Bowen was always ready with an eloquent reply and frequently offered brilliant strategies and ingenious plans.

One day, Zhu Yuanzhang led his troops in battle against the Yuan forces. Supply lines had failed, and the army was locked in a desperate struggle. Coincidentally, Liu Bowen requested an audience and was treated with the meager remaining flatbreads—just a few—before they discussed the current military situation.

Liu Bowen told Zhu Yuanzhang, "Though our current position is difficult, it is only because the mandate of Heaven has not yet fully arrived. Once the opportune moment dawns, My Lord is certain to achieve a great enterprise."

Zhu Yuanzhang subtly sensed that Liu Bowen was hinting at his future enthronement. Upon pressing further, his suspicion was confirmed. He remarked, "In the past, King Wen of Zhou invited Jiang Ziya out of seclusion and personally walked eight hundred and eight steps by the river while holding his hand. As a result, the Zhou Dynasty reigned for eight hundred and eight years. If the strategist speaks truly, and I, Zhu Yuanzhang, possess the fortune to establish the foundation of a dynasty, I dare not ask for eternal reign, nor do I presume to compare myself to enlightened sage-kings like King Wen who enjoyed four centuries of national fortune. I would be content with four hundred years." Having said this, he invited Liu Bowen to cast the lots and divine how many years the destiny of the rising Zhu family might last.

Seeing the few flatbreads available in the tent, Liu Bowen immediately used them as the jīshù (numerical basis for divination) and obtained a hexagram reading. However, the resulting outcome, he cryptically withheld from Zhu Yuanzhang.

Zhu Yuanzhang insisted that success and failure in the world are decreed by Heaven, and there was no need for secrecy. Only then did Liu Bowen confess that according to the reading, although the barbarians would be defeated, the Northern Dragon's vital energy remained strong. In the future, these splendid lands would once again fall under the dominion of the northern peoples, and his Lord's dynasty might not reach four hundred years—perhaps not even three hundred.

Zhu Yuanzhang was greatly alarmed. Yet, his worry was not centered on the duration of the dynasty. What truly troubled him was the sight he had witnessed during years of campaigning: numerous desolate, looted tombs, especially near the mausoleums of the Southern Song Emperors. Now, only vast, weed-choked pits remained, often frequented by spirits and beasts.

After the Yuan extinguished the Southern Song, these imperial tombs were completely emptied by the northern invaders. The bodies of the Southern Song emperors were subjected to the most gruesome indignities, mingled with the bones of oxen, horses, pigs, and dogs, and reburied beneath the "Zhènnán Pagoda" near the Song Mausoleum site. It was a spectacle of abject desolation: "Farmers herd skeletons, cowherds sweep away the spirits; now a barren, empty ground—where the former monarchs' souls are interred," a sight so tragic it provoked sighs from those who saw it and sorrow in all who heard of it.

Zhu Yuanzhang declared that if the northern barbarians were to rule again in a few centuries, he would find no joy even upon ascending the throne. Why? No man lives forever. If he succeeded in driving the barbarians back to the steppes and restoring Han territory, establishing such a feat would certainly be glorious. But immortality is unknown; where there is life, there is death; where there is a beginning, there is an end. Even the "True Mandated Son of Heaven" cannot escape the day he returns to the earth.

When an emperor dies, he is naturally interred in the Imperial Mausoleum. But look at the fate of the Northern and Southern Song imperial tombs—were they not desecrated by the northern invaders? When he became emperor, he would have his "civil and military officials" guarding him while alive, and his tomb protected after death, even if garrisons were stationed around the necropolis. Yet, eventually, the nation would fall, the land would shatter, and dynastic change is often the immutable rhythm of Heaven. He could accept that, but the paramount fear was being overthrown by the very people they were now expelling. If his descendants gained power in the future, they would surely seek fierce revenge for the current humiliation. Would not he and his descendants, buried in their mausoleum, eventually be exhumed by those treacherous villains for posthumous flogging and cremation?

Recalling the ruined state of the Song imperial tombs and contemplating his own future fate, a chill crept into his heart. What pleasure was there in being emperor? Zhu Yuanzhang knew Liu Bowen was profoundly versed in the fengshui of the Southern Dragon and asked if there was any method to ensure the "Imperial Mausoleum" would never be plundered by the northern invaders.

Liu Bowen cautioned, "Your Majesty is thinking too far ahead. The priority now is seizing the throne. Plans for the mausoleum can wait until the great work is secured. Rest assured, My Lord, a safe method will certainly be devised when the time comes."

As a major campaign was imminent, this topic concluded swiftly. After a brief exchange, it was set aside, and the chaos of campaigning in the south and north never offered another chance to raise it. Only after Zhu Yuanzhang ascended the Dragon Throne as the founding Grand Ancestor of the Great Ming did he turn, as custom dictated, to the preparation of his own mausoleum. Every detail, from selecting the dragon vein to the layout and scale of the resting chambers, demanded utmost precision; these were matters of the highest national importance.

The Hongwu Emperor summoned Liu Bowen and brought up their past conversation. The solemn duty of planning and overseeing the construction of the Ming Imperial Mausoleum had to fall to Liu Bowen. The imperial tombs of the Ming Dynasty must never suffer the fate of the northern invaders' desecration.

Liu Bowen, having offered a casual promise years ago, now felt uneasy as the commitment loomed. Suddenly, his brow furrowed; an idea struck him. He requested ten days' grace from the Emperor, promising a sound strategy upon their conclusion.

The Hongwu Emperor patiently waited those ten days. Indeed, after the tenth day, Liu Bowen came to court, performed the rites of subject to sovereign, and presented a scroll painting: "The construction of the Ming Imperial Mausoleum must proceed directly from the diagram shown here."

The Hongwu Emperor assumed it was an authentic "Fengshui Mausoleum Manual" and was instantly delighted. He quickly commanded an attendant to bring it forward for his review. However, upon unrolling and studying the drawing, he became greatly perplexed. The Emperor could not decipher the painting's meaning and asked in his imperial voice, "My loyal minister Liu, what manner of subject matter is depicted in this drawing?"

Liu Bowen submitted, "Your Majesty, the construction of the Imperial resting place is no minor affair. As my knowledge is shallow, I fear I may fail to meet Your Majesty's expectations. Should any error occur, the penalty would be ten thousand deaths, not enough to atone."

Thereafter, Liu Bowen recommended a "marvelous man" to the Hongwu Emperor—a person possessing esoteric arts, capable of understanding both heaven and earth, fully qualified to undertake the weighty task of constructing the "Imperial Mausoleum." However, this individual was a recluse dwelling deep in the mountains and might offer excuses to decline. Therefore, Liu Bowen presented the scroll: once this man was summoned to the palace, his intentions made clear, and the painting shown to him, he would not dare refuse.

The Hongwu Emperor, though skeptical, immediately dispatched men to summon the "expert" recommended by Liu Bowen. This person's name was Feng Wangli. He was originally an unconventional scholar from the Shu region, engaged in refining lead and mercury, and he frequently engaged in grave robbing, specializing in the search for ancient texts such as "Cinnabar Esoteric Writings."

Feng Wangli was summoned to the Golden Hall. Upon learning he was tasked with constructing the "Imperial Mausoleum"—a duty historically fraught with peril, where "accompanying the ruler is like accompanying a tiger"—he refused, hastily claiming ignorance of the arts of "burial rituals" and "dragon-vein seeking" to shirk the imperial assignment.

Just as Liu Bowen predicted, the Hongwu Emperor ordered the scroll to be produced and shown directly to Feng Wangli. The moment Feng Wangli gazed upon the painting, he was so stunned that his soul nearly fled his body. He knelt before the throne, repeatedly crying out, "Your Majesty, forgive my trespasses; this commoner deserves death a myriad times over."

It turned out that the painting Liu Bowen had drawn depicted a terrifying scene of sheer, precipitous cliffs, upon which numerous "hanging coffins" were suspended. Within the painting were several grave robbers: one thief wrestled with a coffin lid, thick and scaled like pine bark, evidently having just pried it open; another clung precariously to the steep rock face, fastening a rope around the neck of the ancient corpse inside the coffin, pulling the old man’s body upright; and two other robbers crouched beside the coffin, lifting out pieces of "bone armor," which were covered in "star charts" and "ancient seal script resembling worms."

Beside the scene was a line of annotation: "Grave Robbery of Bones Viewing the Mountain." Feng Wangli was shaken to his core, realizing the robbing scene depicted was precisely what his ancestors had done.

The "Feng Clan" had long been a prestigious local clan residing generation after generation in the Wushan Coffin Gorge. The terrain of that gorge was treacherous and fragmented, concealing countless "hanging coffins." The current head of the Feng family had once stolen numerous "Heavenly Books and Strange Artifacts" from the Gorge, using them to amass wealth and learn many long-lost shamanistic arts, becoming obsessed with the "Art of the Furnace."

By the late Yuan and early Ming, it had passed to Feng Wangli, who called himself "Guānshān Tàibǎo." Relying on his mastery of the "Coffin Mountain Maze-Piercing Art," he secretly excavated ancient tombs and mausoleums across the land. In reality, the Feng family was wealthy; their motivation for grave robbing was primarily the ancient scrolls and texts hidden within the tombs. Seeing the "Grave Robbery of Bones Viewing the Mountain" painting, he feared his clan's secret activities had been exposed, alerting the Emperor, and that utter annihilation was inevitable. Furthermore, since this matter was known only within his own circle, it proved the Emperor had an "expert" beside him who understood the ways of "Guānshān Tomb Robbery" completely. He had no choice but to steel himself and design the Imperial Mausoleum according to the Hongwu Emperor's requirements.

Liu Bowen was already harboring thoughts of retirement while serving in court. However, he was tethered by the Emperor to the mausoleum project. Recalling the existence of this band of "Guānshān Tàibǎo," who were masters of tomb manuals and Dùnjiǎ techniques, he successfully shifted this "imperial duty" onto their shoulders. He showed them some mercy by labeling the scroll "Viewing the Mountain and Robbing Bones," without explicitly naming it "Guānshān Tomb Robbery."

The Feng Clan specialized in esoteric arts, their methods often inscrutable to ordinary men, and they had mastered numerous fengshui secrets through the bone armor. They possessed unique insights into tomb structure and site selection, thoroughly satisfying the Hongwu Emperor. The Emperor bestowed upon Feng Wangli and several of his disciples belts of pure gold, marking them thenceforth as the "Guānshān Tàibǎo," retained by the Imperial presence for service, specializing in the construction of royal mausoleums.

The Hongwu Emperor, having risen from the lowest strata of society, possessed deep knowledge of common customs. He then asked Feng Wangli, "Even if the Imperial Mausoleum is spared by the northern invaders, it is not entirely secure. For we Han people are not without our own methods. I have heard that since antiquity, there have been those who practice 'Fāqiū' and 'Mòjīn.' What if these individuals set their sights upon the Ming Imperial Mausoleum?"

Feng Wangli replied, "I believe those common grave robbers truly capable of looting imperial tombs are not limited to 'Fāqiū' and 'Mòjīn.' There are also the 'Bānshān' and 'Xièlǐng' groups. The 'Bānshān Daoists' excel in arts of control and transformation, their movements hidden and hard to trace. For many years, they have rarely communicated with outsiders, but their aim is only to seek 'Dānzhū' (elixir beads). As long as the Imperial Mausoleum does not contain objects of 'Golden Elixir Cauldrons,' the Bānshān Daoists will never attempt to rob it, so they are not a major concern. However, the Xièlǐng bandits are mostly 'outlaw horse thieves' (xiǎngmǎ). They gather and disperse unpredictably, specializing in tunneling into large mounds and tombs; they are the most difficult to guard against and often harbor intentions of rebellion. The best strategy is to dispatch large contingents of official troops to suppress them completely, severing their roots, so that the incense of that mountain peak goes out."

"Furthermore, there are those known as the 'Fāqiū Tiānguān,' who are essentially one lineage, most proficient in the arts of fengshui and dragon-vein seeking. The leader of the Mòjīn group is the 'Fāqiū Tiānguān.' This rogue carries the seals and talismans inherited from the Later Han, inscribed with the eight characters: 'The Heavenly Official bestows fortune; nothing is prohibited.' They will stop at nothing in seeking dragons and robbing tombs. But they hold their ancestral guild rules in the highest regard. Without the 'Fāqiū Seal' and the 'Mòjīn Talisman,' they will refuse to engage in grave robbing. Therefore, to deal with them, one must first destroy the talismanic tokens of Fāqiū and Mòjīn, thereby eradicating the art of Mòjīn from the world, achieving a permanent resolution and eliminating future trouble."

The Emperor was delighted by such ingenious counsel and immediately issued decrees. Throughout the Ming Dynasty, intense scrutiny was placed on those who practiced "tomb-probing and burial-site excavation." However, as the traces of "Fāqiū, Mòjīn, Bānshān, and Xièlǐng" were scattered across the realm, the court had no truly effective means against them. Only during the "Yǒnglè" era did an opportunity arise to destroy the "Fāqiū Seal" and seven "Mòjīn Talismans," though three ancient talismans remained unaccounted for. The "Xièlǐng Outlaws" were also repeatedly suppressed without total eradication. Nevertheless, these measures achieved some effect; by the mid-Ming period, the practice of tomb robbing did indeed vanish for a time.

The "Guānshān Tàibǎo" gained high favor with the court, following the imperial family from Nanjing to Beijing, always serving within the Forbidden City. Because the "Imperial Mausoleum" was a matter of the highest secrecy, they dared not publicize their work. It was not until the "Wànlì" era that the leader of the "Guānshān Tàibǎo" was Feng Shigu, a master possessing truly heaven-piercing abilities, whose obsession with fengshui and astrology deepened. He observed that during the construction of the Ming Imperial Mausoleum, his ancestors had made a "hundred-fold oversight"—neglecting to relocate Zhu Yuanzhang's ancestral grave. Observing the celestial patterns, he saw the dragon energy of that site was about to expire and thus petitioned the court to move the ancestral mausoleum. However, the reigning emperor was dissolute, and the nation was mired in neglect, paying no heed to Feng Shigu's counsel.