The matter became a widespread sensation, with locals discussing it endlessly. Some claimed Mr. Jin Dian Hu was merely overrated, having taken money from Ma Liuhe only to direct him to an inauspicious grave site, which consequently cost dozens of lives in the Ma family. They suggested Mr. Hu, realizing his error, had fled with his belongings to an unknown destination.

However, a larger number held a different view. Two steles had been unearthed from the soil of the "Ghost Hat" tomb, bearing inscriptions that served as solemn warnings! A careful contemplation of the words, "Prosper here in burial, perish here in dwelling; the righteous shall thrive, the unrighteous shall vanish," made it clear that Mr. Jin Dian Hu had not erred in pinpointing the burial spot. Instead, it was Ma Liuhe himself who had lost all conscience. Considering the incessant scheming and double-dealing over the years, and the involvement in selling counterfeit medicine—how many lives had been extinguished under his watch? For hundreds of miles around, who didn't hate him? It was evident that acts contrary to virtue could not stand; Heaven itself had decided to collect the debt from his entire household. Truly, the heavens have eyes, divine sight is swift as lightning, and retribution is sure.

When Mr. Hu inquired further, people indeed expressed a bone-deep hatred for the Ma Liuhe family. This man had cheated relatives, oppressed neighbors, harbored thieves, and in business, specialized in creating manufactured chaos and building castles on sand, turning the region into a barren wasteland where even chickens and dogs could find no peace. It could be said he had incurred the wrath of both gods and men. Most common folk celebrated the tragic demise of his family, proclaiming it proof that "The wicked are feared by men, but not by Heaven; the good may be bullied by men, but not by Heaven; in the end, good and evil receive their due, it’s only a matter of sooner or later."

The broken stele dug from the Ma Liuhe ancestral tomb also had a true origin. According to an old monk at a local temple, the area was indeed once named "Ghost Hat Mountain" many years ago. The flat ground beneath the mountain was the former site of a City God Temple. During the Ghost Festival, offerings of paper money for the dead were burned near the mountain pass. The steles were buried beneath the temple to admonish future generations—"An auspicious burial ground is not as good as an auspicious heart"; no matter how favorable the feng shui or dragon vein, neither is as important as accumulating personal virtue and good deeds.

Later, the City God Temple was destroyed in warfare. Centuries passed, eroding the site until its location was utterly lost. Unexpectedly, the broken stele, buried in the earth, survived to this day. Due to the Ma Liuhe family's tragedy, it was brought back into the light, revealing to the world the profound depth of divine will and the subtle precision of natural order.

From then on, Mr. Hu dared not claim mastery over feng shui and geography again. He finally understood the meaning of his master’s words: Why say "The Way of Heaven is silent"? Simply because Heaven does not speak, but the resonance between Heaven and Earth is often reflected in the human heart. Whether building a tomb or a dwelling, virtue must be the foundation, as the saying goes, "The mind is the master of qi, and qi is the symbol of virtue." Heaven may not intentionally intervene for men, but human intention and moral conduct often resonate with the heavens.

I related this incident to Old Shopkeeper Li so he might understand that the study of feng shui pertains to the "principle of heavenly-human correspondence and the way of creation and change," not merely the simple act of finding a burial spot. It should not be overly superstitious; throughout history, many emperors were buried atop dragon veins, yet this did not stop the historical tide of dynastic change.

Shopkeeper Li nodded: "A lamp won't light if you don't trim the wick; the truth won't emerge if words aren't spoken. If you don't poke the window paper, it won't break in a lifetime. Hearing you explain today, this is indeed the logic..." He suddenly remembered something and called his youngest daughter into the room, giving her a few instructions, seemingly asking her to fetch something.

The youngest daughter rummaged through trunks and cabinets in the room for quite some time before finally finding a box made of black sandalwood. It had no lock on the clasp, but was tightly bound with two lengths of cord, the knots sealed with red wax and stamped with an insignia. It felt heavy, suggesting it contained many items.

My Fatty and I were quite curious, assuming Old Shopkeeper Li was about to show off some treasured artifact or unveil some arcane weapon for our instruction.

The old shopkeeper said, "As for what is inside this box, I myself do not know, nor have I ever looked. But perhaps you two know something."

I grew even more puzzled: "You don't know what belongs to you, and we can't see through objects—how could we possibly guess?" As I spoke, a thought struck me, and I quickly asked, "Could it be something belonging to a Mojin Xiaowei?"

The old shopkeeper confirmed: "Exactly. When I saw you recognize the Vajra Umbrella, I knew you must be in the same trade as the customer who commissioned that umbrella from my shop back then. Because the Vajra Umbrella is no ordinary implement; only those who rob tombs use it. That merchant requested the umbrella and left this box of items in my care at the counter, stipulating that he would take both when collecting the umbrella. But that man left and never reappeared for decades. Now my neck is close to the yellow earth, and I still haven't seen him a second time."

Recounting this old tale, the shopkeeper couldn't help but sigh profoundly. Time flies, the world shifts, and now Honeycomb Mountain has moved from Hebei to Sichuan. Over so many years, many things around him have vanished, but this black sandalwood box has remained perfectly preserved because he had given his word to guard it well for the other party.

Old Shopkeeper Li felt his age meant he could no longer safeguard the contents, so he handed the black sandalwood box to us. After all, fellow Mojin Xiaowei would treat it better than it falling into the hands of unrelated strangers upon his passing. As for what was inside, that remained unknown.

Upon learning of Duo Ling's death, I was rather downcast. Seeing the box's ancient style, I assumed it contained valuable things, and with the alcohol still swirling in my head, I didn't rush to open it for immediate inspection. We drank until late into the night, finally collapsing into a drunken stupor. The next morning, we thanked the shopkeeper, bid farewell, and set off on our return journey. This time, we split into two groups: Shirley Yang and the youngest daughter took the route through Hunan, picking up Blind Chen, and then they would meet us in Beijing.

The journey itself was uneventful. Fatty and I were the first to return to Beijing, where Uncle Ming, Big Gold Tooth, and the others had been waiting for some time. Uncle Ming kept asking where we had gone tomb-raiding and if we had struck it rich. I didn't reveal a single word, merely instructing Fatty and Big Gold Tooth to dig up the materials Sun Jiuye had researched and compiled according to the location described in his letter. Since there were no actual artifacts or antiques, they disappointedly wrapped everything up and brought it back.

I placed the few items I had acquired on the table and, closing the door, discussed their disposition with Fatty and Big Gold Tooth. Sun Jiuye had remained in Coffin Gorge, resolved never to show his face again in this life. The ancient hexagram data he left behind were genuine, but deciphering the complete Zhou Tian hexagram required the assistance of a grand expert like Zhang Yingchuan; it wouldn't yield results in just a year or two, and it was impossible without the Guixu Bronze Mirror.

I had been extremely interested in the Sixteen-Character Zhou Tian Ancient Hexagrams before, but after experiencing so many events, I faintly felt that heavenly secrets and hexagrams could be profoundly misleading. Zhang Sanye destroying half of the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art back then was likely connected to this. Furthermore, I had previously noticed that Zhang Yingchuan seemed content with a simple life, not placing much value on the complete Zhou Tian hexagrams.

Zhang Yingchuan was a master of Neo-Confucianism, understanding the Way of Heaven to illuminate human affairs. His vision extended far, allowing him to perceive truths hidden from ordinary people. Completing the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art might not be a good thing for me, especially since it required years of grinding effort. How could my temperament endure such ascetic discipline?

After deep consideration, I ultimately decided to transfer all of Sun Jiuye's research materials on ancient hexagram calculation to Zhang Yingchuan. The Guixu Ancient Mirror and the Bronze Dragon Talisman were even more significant. The Guixu bronzes were ancient treasures passed down through generations. The ship captain Ruan Hei, who sailed with me, died because of the Guixu Bronze Mirror, and my comrade Ding Sitian was intricately linked to the Bronze Dragon Talisman. These items should not remain in anyone's possession and were best returned to Professor Chen for safekeeping.

Fatty picked up the black sandalwood box given by Shopkeeper Li and asked me, "Old Hu, what about this thing? Now that we're in Beijing, we should open it and take a look. This box feels heavy, and when I shake it, it rattles. Could it be full of Yuan Datou coins?"

I always believed the black sandalwood box belonged to someone else; I couldn't just claim it because the owner hadn't returned for it. Yet, I was intensely curious about what treasures a predecessor from the Mojin school might possess. In this world, only three authentic ancient Mojin Talismans remained: one each for me, Fatty, and Shirley Yang. Two were given by Elder Liaochen of Wuku Temple, and the other was found by Fatty in an ancient tomb behind the Fish Bone Temple.

By this logic, the customer who commissioned the Vajra Umbrella at Honeycomb Mountain back then was likely a predecessor who perished in the Dragon Ridge Spider Cave. If that were true, he certainly could never return to claim his deposited belongings.

That last Path Finder Daoist, Partridge Whistle (Zhegushao), had sought instruction from Elder Liaochen of Wuku Temple to learn the Dragon Seeking Art and the Art of Dividing Gold and Fixing Position, hoping to find the ruins of the Tongtian Great Buddha Temple in the Yellow Sand City buried beneath the desert. Unfortunately, Elder Liaochen met a violent end before he could teach him the Dragon Seeking Art. On his deathbed, Elder Liaochen left a dying wish, instructing Partridge Whistle to search along the banks of the Yellow River for another Mojin Xiaowei.

That Mojin Xiaowei often dressed as a traveling merchant and always carried a golden abacus. Although Elder Liaochen didn't specify his relationship with this person, he must have been an acquaintance or partner with whom he shared an extraordinary bond, otherwise, he wouldn't have mentioned this individual to Partridge Whistle at such a critical moment. Regrettably, Elder Liaochen didn't know that the Golden Abacus had long since died in the Dragon Ridge Underground Palace. Moreover, the Golden Abacus operated secretly; if we hadn't accidentally entered the deeper Spider Cave after emerging from the Western Zhou Ghost Tomb, perhaps no one would ever have known that the Golden Abacus was interred there.

I had considered this possibility before, but I dared not confirm it because I hadn't seen a pure gold abacus in the Ghost Tomb or the Spider Cave. Such a gleaming object would certainly be conspicuous, and as the Golden Abacus's essential personal item, he wouldn't easily part with it. Following this deduction, was it possible that, besides the previous owners of the three ancient talismans, there was a fourth Mojin Xiaowei in existence?

At this thought, I could restrain my curiosity no longer and decided to look first. If someone truly came forward to claim it in the future, I would simply return it untouched. Looking at it a few times wouldn't harm it. I immediately set to work, cutting the decades-old tough cord binding the box. The moment I lifted the lid, a dazzling golden light erupted.

The black sandalwood box strongly resembled a money chest used by merchants in old times for collecting payments. Inside lay a shattered abacus; the frame and the rods were cast in gold, intricately carved with minute symbols representing the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches. It was ancient and exquisite, clearly having passed through untold generations.

I thought to myself, there could be no mistake now; this was indeed the property of the Golden Abacus, the acquaintance of Elder Liaochen. It seemed we had a destined connection with this person. Examining the other items in the box, they were mostly account ledgers detailing purchase and sales records. However, upon closer inspection, I discovered many pieces of information scribbled between the lines of these ledgers. I flipped through a few pages and found descriptions related to the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art.

Although I had planned to retire from tomb raiding after handling Duo Ling's affairs in America and live a quiet life after marriage, my experiences over the years were almost entirely tied to the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art. Yet, everyone I knew, including Zhang Yingchuan, the descendant of Zhang Sanye, couldn't clearly explain why this miraculous book of feng shui existed only as a fragmented manuscript. Even the reasons they offered were hard for me to accept. Now, seeing these related anecdotes recorded in the Golden Abacus's ledger filled me with surprise, intensifying my desire to know the details. I handed the contents of the black sandalwood box to Fatty for safekeeping and, taking the ledgers, began flipping through them page by page under the lamplight.

I read every word throughout the entire night, finally resolving the doubts that had plagued my heart for many years. Reflecting on the experiences of Fatty and myself over the years, I couldn't help but admire the foresight of Zhang Sanlianzi, the author of the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art; retreating safely from such a precarious situation was no easy feat.

Using the past to reflect on the present inspired me, and I resolved to honor the promise I made to Shirley Yang to retreat while I still could. After burying Duo Ling, Shirley Yang, Fatty, and I would wash our hands of the trade forever, taking off our Mojin talismans. We would sell the Green Heads we recovered from the Coral Spiral as seed money and partner with Blind Chen, Uncle Ming, Big Gold Tooth, Gu Cai, and others overseas to start a business, never again inquiring about tomb raiding.

In times of leisure and peace, I would look at the items passed down from the Mojin predecessors: first, the half-volume manuscript of the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art, and second, the Mojin talismans that Fatty, Shirley Yang, and I once wore. I don't know if these ancient objects possessed their own destiny, but their perceived "cycle of prosperity and decline" had been entirely foreseen by Zhang Sanlianzi, the master of the Golden Abacus, long ago.

What exactly was recorded in the Golden Abacus's ledgers? And why did the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art become an incomplete book? Allow me to finally conclude by recounting the stories of these elders.