Truth be told, Elder Duan had encountered situations like this countless times over his decades in the trade. After months of trekking over mountains and through valleys, he would finally locate a spot blessed with excellent feng shui, only to discover it already occupied by another grave.

Elder Duan was somewhat accustomed to this. After all, ancient feng shui masters were no slouches, and after centuries of excavation, the flesh-and-bone remains would surely have been thoroughly picked over; finding even the dregs left behind was a minor victory.

While Wang Guan and the others remained relatively composed upon seeing this, Lu Chongming's uncle was profoundly disheartened, suddenly gripped by the sorrow of watching a cooked duck fly away.

Meanwhile, everyone descended to examine the grave mound. It was an untended barrow, overgrown with weeds, clearly undisturbed by visitors for a long time.

Had it not been for the slightly raised knoll, one might never have guessed it was a burial site. However, judging by the mound's scale, the tomb was of a relatively high specification, occupying an expansive enough area to comfortably accommodate thirty or forty people paying their respects. This suggested that the neglected grave once belonged to a family of considerable wealth and status.

"There seems to be a stele."

Lu Chongming, sharp-eyed, spotted a tablet amidst the weeds at the front of the grave and curiously parted the foliage to look. The stone slab had been weathered by the passage of long years, its color faded to white. Fortunately, it had not yet decayed, and some characters were still discernible through the haze.

"Huh?"

At first glance, Lu Chongming exclaimed in surprise, "Uncle, this looks like the grave of one of our ancestors."

"What?"

Hearing this, the uncle could hardly stand still and hurried over to see. The stele was large, bearing many inscriptions, but the characters Lu Shi (Lu Clan) were strikingly clear. Considering their location near the mountain village, and that within a hundred li, only people from their village bore the surname Lu, it was more than enough to confirm Lu Chongming was correct; the interred must be an ancestor of the Lu family.

Discovering this, the uncle forgot his sadness and immediately began studying the inscription. After a moment of close inspection, he suddenly gasped, "Ah, so it was him."

"Uncle, do you know which ancestor this is?" Lu Chongming asked, intensely curious.

"Know him? Of course, I know him." The uncle's tone was complex, tinged with envy or jealousy: "Didn't I tell you before? Someone from our village once achieved the Jinshi degree, became a high official in the imperial court..."

"It's the ancestor from Seventh Grand-Uncle's lineage," Lu Chongming realized suddenly. "A Jinshi from the Jiajing era, I think he entered the Hanlin Academy, eventually rising to the rank of Vice Minister of Rites, and returned home in glory."

"Exactly, that's him." The uncle nodded repeatedly, then speculated, "This must be the tomb of the Vice Minister's father, and the Master's prophecy was incredibly accurate."

As he spoke, the uncle's eyes filled with reverence. "After the Vice Minister of Rites, his son only became a Juren, and his grandson a Xiucai. After that, no one remarkable emerged. Truly, three generations of prosperity."

"Seriously?"

In an instant, Wang Guan and Lu Chongming were stunned, suddenly feeling a sense of awe bordering on the supernatural.

"Nonsense, it's recorded in the family genealogy." The uncle stated firmly, "If you don't believe me, I’ll pull out the genealogy when we get back."

"Maybe not necessary, why would I not believe you..." Though he said this, Lu Chongming resolved to check the genealogy immediately upon their return.

"It's not about believing me, it's about believing the Master." The uncle was utterly convinced. At this point, if Elder Duan had simply snapped his fingers, he would likely have immediately prostrated himself, submitting to his every word.

"Heh heh, it's not that I can foresee everything, but the art of feng shui is inherently this marvelous." Elder Duan smiled. "Speaking of which, perhaps Brother Lu visited this spot over a decade ago, which is why he left behind a drawing in his book."

"My grandfather was here?"

Lu Chongming looked around and nodded in agreement. "Probably. Even though the mound is somewhat desolate, the outline is still clearly visible. If it truly hadn't been swept for several centuries, the outline would probably be gone by now."

"Indeed."

Elder Duan concurred. "Perhaps Brother Lu worried about that—fearing others might accidentally dig up the ancestor's grave—which is why he tidied up the mound again. But after he passed away, no one maintained it, and the mound naturally became overgrown again."

While the others were marveling, Wang Guan hadn't been idle; he began meticulously observing the surroundings. After circling the area once, he indeed discovered a spot that seemed anomalous.

Wang Guan glanced at it but made no move, instead returning to listen to Elder Duan’s critique of the feng shui.

After a thorough assessment, regardless of whether Wang Guan and the others fully understood, Elder Duan seemed satisfied and smiled, "It's getting late, shouldn't we head back?"

The others snapped back to reality, checked the time, and realized it was already two in the afternoon. They could still make it back for dinner. With no objections raised, they immediately followed the uncle's guidance, taking a shortcut back to the village.

At dusk, everyone safely returned to the village. The uncle immediately began preparing dinner; only when the table was laden with all manner of chicken, duck, fish, and local delicacies did he stop. He then respectfully invited Elder Duan to take his seat, apologizing sheepishly, "Master, the place is humble, conditions are limited; please forgive our poor hospitality."

"It's ample, more than enough." Elder Duan smiled. "Allowing me to copy a few books is already more than I could ask for—it's truly coming back laden with treasure."

In truth, the uncle had wanted to gift the originals directly to Elder Duan, but the Master felt the gift was too precious and firmly declined, insisting the uncle keep them safe and cherished, as he only needed copies.

The uncle felt a pang of regret. He couldn't even read the books, so they were useless to him. Gifting them to Elder Duan would have secured a valuable connection, but since the Master steadfastly refused to accept such a favor, the uncle could only feel resigned.

Regardless, after dinner, Wang Guan and Lu Chongming escorted Elder Duan back to Shanghai. The next day, they took him to the museum to view the Confucius Sacred Traces Scroll, and then saw him off at the airport for his flight back to Shandong Province.

Thus, the matter of the feng shui drawing concluded satisfactorily. At least, that was Lu Chongming’s perception. He felt he had gained much; despite the physical exhaustion from nearly half a day spent scrambling in the mountains, his spirit felt invigorated, even contemplating another trip up the mountain soon, just to clear his head...

Wang Guan smiled and suddenly asked, "Did you check the genealogy?"

"I did." Lu Chongming nodded, feeling a deep sense of wonder. "It's exactly as told: ancestor a Jinshi, son a Juren, grandson a Xiucai, then fading into obscurity, returning to the common flow. Three generations of prosperity, lasting barely a hundred years. To call it coincidence seems too neat. Wang Guan, do you believe it or not?"

"Believe it or not," Wang Guan shrugged, then inquired, "Now that you understand the meaning of the inscription, what are your plans?"

"What plans?" Lu Chongming looked bewildered. "Even if that was a prime feng shui location, someone is already buried there. According to Elder Duan, the energy of the dragon vein has been exhausted; it's completely useless now..."

"Do you really think this matter is settled just like that?" Wang Guan asked with a smile. "If that's the case, if I find something good, I won't be sharing it with you."

"What?"

Instantly, Lu Chongming became highly vigilant. "That’s the grave of our Lu family ancestor; don't get any improper ideas."

"What ideas?"

Wang Guan was momentarily speechless, half-laughing, half-choking. "No matter how degenerate I become, I wouldn't stoop so low as to become a tomb robber."

"That's true." Lu Chongming considered it and deeply agreed. "Besides, that grave isn't the Vice Minister's; it’s his father’s. There probably aren't any burial goods either."

"Good that you know." Wang Guan waved his hand. "Let's go investigate again."

"What did you discover?" Lu Chongming asked, puzzled.

"You'll know when we get there."

As he spoke, Wang Guan turned once more towards Taicang, and Lu Chongming naturally followed. With a familiar sense of urgency, they arrived back in the mountain village. This time, however, Wang Guan deliberately avoided the sight of the villagers, ascending the mountain from a different flank. Relying on his exceptional memory, he slowly made his way back to the vicinity of that grave.

At this point, Lu Chongming still felt uneasy. "You're not actually planning to dig, are you?"

"I didn't bring anything, how would I dig?" Wang Guan rolled his eyes, then walked straight past the grave toward a sparsely wooded area nearby. It was discernible that the trees on either side of the grave had likely been planted deliberately, resulting in a somewhat intentional arrangement. After centuries of wind and rain, some had grown into towering giants, while others had withered into deadwood.

Wang Guan now stopped beside a half-dead tree. It was called half-dead because one side of the trunk had clearly withered and turned to rotten wood, yet the other half remained vibrant, with small, tender buds sprouting forth. This sight was the very definition of 'withered wood meeting spring.'

Of course, the tree's vitality was not the main point; the key was that beneath the tree lay a large stone, a rock half the height of a man, so massive that two adults stretching their arms wide might not fully encircle it. Under the relentless pounding of wind and rain, this huge stone was naturally also heavily mottled, and moss had begun to grow along its edges.

At this moment, Wang Guan circled the stone, examining it from all sides, looking for a starting point.

"What is it?"

At the same time, Lu Chongming walked over, confused. "Why are you staring at that rock?"

"Don't you think the stone's material seems familiar?" Wang Guan prompted, casually picking up a flat, pointed stone the size of his palm from the ground and gently scraping the moss off the large rock.

"Material?"

Lu Chongming also reached out to touch the large stone, still not understanding. "Isn't this just ordinary granite? What's so spe—"

Suddenly, Lu Chongming stopped speaking. He had remembered the stele outside the ancestral hall in the village—that too was granite. More importantly, he suddenly became alert: although the entire hillside was lush with vegetation, stones were surprisingly scarce, and a boulder as large as the one before them seemed to be the only one of its kind.

In that instant, Lu Chongming understood why Wang Guan insisted on making a second trip to examine this extra stone. After careful consideration, he too found the rock highly suspicious...