The next morning, we rose early, packed our things, and headed toward "Dragon Ridge" behind the village. According to what we learned yesterday, we needed to pass two mountain ridges outside the village to find the "Fishbone Temple."

What was simply described as two mountain ridges might have been a short distance in a straight line, but traversing them proved quite arduous. Yesterday, it had grown dark by the time we arrived, making the surroundings obscure. Now, viewing the landscape in the first light of dawn, we saw countless crisscrossing ravines; fragmented plateaus, earth ridges, mounds, and gullies stood all around us.

Though not the Loess Plateau, the area was heavily affected by flood silting, leaving behind vast stretches of hard yellow earth. The wind acted as the Creator’s carving tool, slicing and sculpting the rolling ridges into countless ravines and wind tunnels, some of which plunged to frightening depths.

The natural environment here was harsh, the land sparsely populated. The wind whistled through the gullies, sounding like the wail of a vengeful ghost. The ridges were riddled with caves of all sizes, bottomless pits that, from a distance, looked like the hillside was covered in black pox marks.

We walked for nearly three hours before finally locating the "Fishbone Temple" in a deep ravine. It was even more dilapidated than we had imagined. We had mentally prepared ourselves, having heard that the incense offerings to this Dragon King Temple had ceased decades ago, but seeing the ruin firsthand—the shack was practically falling apart.

The "Fishbone Temple" consisted of only one main hall; there were no distinct front or rear sections, nor east or west wings. The main door was long gone, but we could finally see the skull of the Iron-Headed Dragon King Fish, the mouth of which served as the entrance.

Fatty tapped the skull with his entrenching tool; it rang with a hard clang. This bone was truly solid. We examined it closely and saw that this fish skull was utterly unlike any ordinary fish bone. Even without flesh or skin, it retained a grotesque and hideous appearance. We had never seen a fish like this—it was neither a whale nor a common river fish, frighteningly enormous, deterring us from staring too long.

The mud statue of the Dragon King in the hall was long gone, the floor beams covered in dust and cobwebs. However, inside, we couldn't tell if the main support beams were constructed from fish bones; they were likely encased within the brick and tile.

The walls hadn't completely crumbled; we could barely make out the four large characters "Fēng Tiáo Yǔ Shùn" (Favorable Winds and Timely Rains). Several rat nests dotted the ground; seeing people enter, the creatures scattered squeakingly.

We didn't dare linger in the hall of the Fishbone Temple. This wreck could collapse at any moment; a strong gust of wind might just blow the roof off.

Standing before the temple entrance, Da Jinya remarked that Dragon King Temples built from fish bones like this existed in a few coastal areas, but they were truly rare inland. He mentioned one in Jinghai, Tianjin, during the Republic of China era, built after a large fish washed ashore, funded by a benefactor using the bones. That temple enjoyed immense patronage before it was destroyed in the early 1970s, and he hadn't seen another since.

I looked at the topography of the Fishbone Temple nestled in the ravine and laughed, "If the location of this Fishbone Temple were considered auspicious feng shui, I’d go home and burn my copy of the Sixteen-Character Secret Art of Yin-Yang Feng Shui."

Fatty asked, "Isn't this place quite good? The wind is howling so fiercely—we certainly have the 'wind' aspect of feng shui. Hmm... we’re just seriously lacking water; if there were a small river nearby, it would almost be a perfect geomantic spot."

I replied, "The requirements for building a temple or monastery are different from those for establishing a residence or grave. A temple is meant to bring blessings to an area; you can't just pick any spot. A site for a temple must feature aligned peaks, a prominent main hall—besides this Fishbone Temple, have you ever seen a temple built down inside a ravine? Even a local Earth God shrine shouldn't be built so deep in the mountains. As the saying goes: Gǔ zhōng yǒu yǐn mò chuān xīn, chuān xīn ér lì bù rù xiàng (A hidden spot in the valley must not be pierced through the heart; built piercing the heart, it fails to attain form)."

Da Jinya inquired, "Master Hu, what did that last line you quoted mean? Does it mean building a temple in a valley is bad?"

I nodded. "Yes. Look at these gullies and ravines—they snake like dragons, but the surrounding mountains are barren, lacking support and embrace. They achieve nothing significant. Moreover, being deeply sunken in the mountains, the yin energy is heavy. If the vegetation on these ridges were dense, it would be slightly better—that would be like 'the hidden immortal sash flying within the embrace,' deep support leading to prosperity. But this pathetic ravine, according to the principles of ancient Chinese geomancy, isn't even suitable for burial, let alone building a temple. Therefore, I conclude there’s something fundamentally wrong with how this temple was constructed. It must have been used by Mojin Xiaowei (Grave Robbers of the Golden Guard) to cover their tracks while tomb raiding. Seeing it now confirms my suspicion."

Fatty remarked, "If it was just to cover their tracks, they wouldn't need such an elaborate setup. A thatched shed would have been enough. Besides, who comes to this ravine? At most, a shepherd occasionally. The villagers said beyond this ridge is the Labyrinth of Dragon Ridge, which is notoriously cursed; nobody goes there normally, so there probably aren't many shepherds here either."

I explained, "This was likely mainly about gaining the trust of the locals. An outsider funding a Dragon King Temple for the locals to ensure favorable weather and peace—the local people wouldn't be suspicious. If they had just built a shack in the ravine, wouldn't people find the behavior odd, questioning why anyone would build a house in such a desolate gully? That invites suspicion. It’s much more deceptive to claim the site was auspicious for feng shui and erect a temple. In the past, there were even faked farming plots, planting barren sand grass before starting work—the goal is always the same: to keep others in the dark."

Da Jinya and Fatty both agreed with my analysis: building a temple in a ravine was indeed an easier disguise for outsiders than building a house.

In reality, what Fatty said wasn't entirely without merit, but we still needed to ascend the ridge to examine the overall structure of Dragon Ridge to make a further judgment about the location of the ancient tomb and the reason for building the temple here. I estimated the Fishbone Temple wouldn't be too far from the tomb; otherwise, the engineering for tunneling would be excessive.

We finally reached the foot of the Dragon Ridge slope. The first of my two major concerns was whether there was a large tomb in Dragon Ridge—now, it seemed the answer was an absolute yes.

The second concern was whether this vast tomb, already targeted by the fake merchant who built the Fishbone Temple, had already been successfully looted. That was hard to say, but judging by his methods and meticulous planning, he was determined to succeed.

However, even if the ancient tomb in Dragon Ridge had been plundered, I figured we could still go inside for a look, observe how another master craftsman did his work, and perhaps even find a few remaining items if it wasn't completely emptied.

The professional ethics of the Mojin Xiaowei were strict: after opening a tomb, they were only allowed to take one or two items; taking more violated the code. Given that the master who built the Fishbone Temple managed to locate a major tomb that many others missed, he must have been a veteran.

The more seasoned and skilled a tomb robber is, the more they value these traditions; sometimes, they value the rules more than their own lives. But sadly, these fine traditions are likely forgotten now. Modern tomb bandits operate much like the Japanese invaders back during the war—basically enforcing a scorched-earth policy everywhere they go.

We circled the Fishbone Temple a few times but found no sign of a tunnel entrance. It seemed extremely well hidden, not easily found, or perhaps it had been completely sealed after that Mojin Xiaowei finished his work.

Da Jinya asked if I could pinpoint the exact location of the ancient tomb. I said it was impossible to tell from the ravine; one had to climb to the ridge and look down from above to see things clearly.

Da Jinya, accustomed to a life of dining, drinking, whoring, and gambling, wasn't in great physical shape and couldn't handle long treks. He was already exhausted by the time we reached the Fishbone Temple. Climbing the ridge and then climbing back down would be too much for him. I told him and Fatty to stay at the Fishbone Temple, search for any nearby tunnel openings, and cautioned them to be extremely careful if they entered the main hall, lest they get crushed.

I began climbing the slope myself, using both hands and feet, and soon reached the top of the ridge. Below me, ravines crisscrossed the landscape, the earth looking as if it had been violently crumpled, creating countless folds of varying heights. The terrain was incredibly complex.

The general topography of Shaanxi is high in the north and south, low in the middle; high in the northwest, low in the southeast, sloping down from west to east. The north is the Loess Plateau, the south is the Qinba Mountains, and the center is the Guanzhong Plain.

Due to the extension of the Qinling mountain range, this area featured a rare stretch of low hills and rolling terrain. These ridges were not very high; viewed from above, they might resemble a scar on the earth.

I shielded my eyes with my hand, carefully scrutinizing the shapes of the ridges before me. Dragon Ridge truly lived up to its name: meridians crisscrossed, branches sprung out everywhere. The Xun Long Jue (Dragon Seeking Art) states: Dà shān dà chuān bǎi shí tiáo, lóng lóu bǎo diàn qù wú shù (Great mountains and vast rivers, a hundred and ten pathways; countless Dragon Palaces and Precious Halls).

Within this Dragon Ridge lay a deeply hidden "Dragon Palace and Precious Hall." The surrounding formations followed this center, gathering and encircling it; all these rolling ridges represented the shi (formational energy) manifested by this central "Dragon Palace and Precious Hall." The "force" here was not the kind capable of burying emperors. An imperial tomb's "force" requires stability and solidity—a place towering over great rivers, dominating the heights and guarding the depths, majestic over the world. The "force" exhibited by Dragon Ridge, however, was one of deep, secluded dwelling, characterized by ān chēng tíng xù zhī shì (a force of settled storage and containment).

A formation like this would be suitable for interring imperial relatives—such as Empresses, Dowagers, Princesses, or close kin of the royal line. Burying them here would ensure the imperial house’s prosperity and stability, bringing peace and tranquility to the court—in essence, stabilizing their own backyard, so to speak.

However, this "force" had been shattered by the natural environment. Wind and rain had carved it up, earthquakes had caused collapses, and soil erosion in this region was severe. The surface was fragmented, no longer possessing its former majesty.

Despite this, I could still recognize it immediately: the Dragon Palace and Precious Hall within Dragon Ridge was located just below the ridge where I stood. This was a hillside heavily damaged by natural forces, and all the surrounding ridges and ravines extended outward from this central mound. That Tang Dynasty tomb was certainly nestled within the heart of this mountain.