The fall of the Dian Kingdom occurred during the mid-Han Dynasty, marked by severe internal strife that led to a faction splitting off from the main polity. These dissidents retreated into the towering, mist-shrouded mountains, choosing a life isolated from the outside world. From that point on, they gradually faded from historical records, with later generations knowing of them only through fragmented accounts found in the Kao of Strange Drinking Vessels (Tuo, formerly Zhua, which is 'Xi' plus 'Qian').

This group, separated from the ancient Dian civilization, naturally coalesced into a tribal collective. They practiced a peculiar ritual involving strange urns suspended in water, wherein living people were drowned inside them to subsequently nourish fish. These fish, fed on human flesh daily, developed strength several times that of ordinary specimens. Once the fish matured, on the night of the full moon precisely, the urns were retrieved from the water. The human remains inside were then incinerated to offer sacrifice to six jade beasts, after which the fish were boiled into a soup and consumed. It was rumored that eating fish fed on human flesh could prolong life.

How the old proprietor of the coffin shop came into possession of these items—whether inherited or found by himself—remains unknown for now. It is highly probable that he was privy to this entire wicked ceremony and had discovered a pre-Qin ruin beneath his shop, thus securing an extremely secluded location. To better maintain this secrecy and avoid exposure, he exploited the local legend that merely touching a coffin meant imminent death, instilling a sense of dread in nearby villagers, making them reluctant to approach his establishment. Only after his death did these secrets begin to surface. However, whether this old coffin shop owner was truly a homicidal fiend would require detailed investigation and evidence gathering once the Public Security Bureau arrived.

Hearing Professor Sun speak, and with a braised fish sitting squarely on my plate, I felt so nauseated I could barely keep down my food. The more I contemplated it, the sicker I became, until I simply couldn't eat anymore. I turned to Professor Sun and said, "You are truly the Sherlock Holmes of the East. I spent ages down there researching, yet couldn't make heads or tails of anything. Brilliant, Professor, truly brilliant."

Professor Sun's demeanor towards me was much improved compared to last time. He immediately replied, "Actually, I personally witnessed someone in Yunnan years ago collecting one of these bizarre urns; he had purchased it from the South Seas area many years prior. I never imagined such dark arts still lingered in certain corners of Southeast Asia. Do you recall me mentioning that Old Chen once saved my life? That also happened in Yunnan."

Although this gruesome and savage black art was bizarre, it ultimately had no direct bearing on our immediate concerns. Having located Professor Sun was the objective we sought; therefore, we listened to his words with only casual interest. Shirley Yang and I were just about to ask him for help regarding Professor Chen when Professor Sun mentioned him, prompting us to request he elaborate.

Professor Sun sighed, "Ah, what is there to say? It’s shameful, I admit, but it was so many years ago. Back then, Old Chen and I were sent to Yunnan for 're-education.' Old Chen was more than a decade my senior and looked after me. I had run into some 'ideological issues'—I had become involved with a local widow. You don't need me to tell you how damaging such a thing was considered at the time."

I maintained an outwardly serious expression while inwardly suppressing a laugh. This old Sun looks more like a peasant tilling the earth than a professor; I never expected he had such a scandalous past. The fact that he confessed this romantic entanglement showed he was the type who couldn't keep things bottled up, meaning extracting information wouldn't be too difficult; the key was finding the right opening.

Professor Sun continued, "I couldn't bear the pressure and attempted to hang myself in the cowshed. Only when I kicked the stool out from under my feet did the reality of the situation hit me; I didn't want to die. I instantly regretted it and suddenly felt an intense yearning for life. But regret was too late; my tongue was already halfway out, and I was moments from death, when Old Chen rushed in and saved me. If it weren't for Old Chen, I wouldn't be here today."

I knew my opportunity had arrived. Professor Sun was immersed in recalling those past events, his heart stirred, causing him to speak more freely. I seized this moment, exaggerated Professor Chen's current illness tenfold, and had Shirley Yang present the rubbing of the dragon bone with the strange script to Professor Sun, explaining why we had sought him out and imploring him to make an exception for the sake of Professor Chen and divulge a small secret.

Professor Sun's expression instantly changed. He bit his lip, hesitated for a long time, and finally said to us, "I can take this rubbing back with me to examine and analyze exactly what is written on it. But you must promise me, do not breathe a word of this to anyone. It’s inconvenient to discuss here. Wait until tomorrow when we return to the Gutian County Guesthouse, and then you can come find me."

Fearing he might change his mind by the next day, I retrieved the rubbing of the dragon bone with the strange script and agreed with Professor Sun that I would show it to him upon our return to the county guesthouse.

After dinner that day, Shirley Yang and I set off to return to Gutian County town. Before we could even leave the village, we were intercepted by that blind fortune-teller with the silver tongue. The old man asked if I was still interested in buying his copy of the Diagram of Mibi's Secrets (Xiang Dan Zi Mi Di Yan Tu). He noted that his merchandise was for connoisseurs, and the price, well, was negotiable.

If I hadn't seen the fortune-teller, I would have completely forgotten about the matter. I knew his Diagram of Mibi's Secrets was essentially just a geomancy map, possessing little real value. The true version's material was special, making it precious, but the content itself resembled the Shan Hai Jing, holding no great significance. Moreover, the one the fortune-teller held was obviously a cheap imitation, clearly not the genuine article. I told him, "Old man, you really expect to sell this diagram to someone who knows its worth?"

The fortune-teller replied, "Naturally. To a discerning eye, a price can be named, and I will part with it; to one who does not know its value, even a thousand gold pieces would be wasted. This divine object must not fall into common hands. That day, when I read your fortune by feeling your bones, I saw you possessed the 'Seven Apertures of the Serpent Lock,' destined for the imposing visage of a feudal lord. In this current age, who else is worthy of possessing this Diagram of Mibi's Secrets but you?"

I told the fortune-teller, "If you put it that way, then you'll probably never sell this map. Because this is a blatant forgery, those who recognize it won't buy it, and those who don't recognize it, you refuse to sell to. You might as well keep it for yourself. And please, stop bringing up feudal lords—my family might have had someone born in the Year of the Pig, or maybe the Monkey, but we've never had a pig or a monkey as an ancestor. If I were a pig or a monkey, I'd be in the zoo."

Seeing that I had seen through his fake diagram, the fortune-teller begged me, in the spirit of fellow travelers, to take him to Beijing. He wanted to tell fortunes and read palms there, perhaps deal in some well-preserved artifacts, thus answering the call of the government to achieve a modest prosperity.

I found the fortune-teller genuinely pitiable and felt a pang of compassion. After consulting with Shirley Yang, we agreed to his request—we promised to find him lodging near Panjiayuan in Beijing and have Old Jin Ya look after him. Furthermore, this man’s smooth tongue could be an excellent asset to us as a shill for future business dealings.

However, I cautioned the fortune-teller, "The capital is not like other places. If you go around telling people you meet that they are destined to become kings or heads of state, that won't fly here. At best, you might get charged with inciting rebellion and dealt with."

He nodded repeatedly. "I understand these principles without you needing to say them. I certainly cannot bear such a charge; if the court pursued it, I’d face immediate execution. In the capital, I will stick to telling people they will get rich quick upon meeting them, and that will suffice."

And so, I brought the fortune-teller back with me to the Gutian Guesthouse. As the saying goes, a long story shortens when there’s nothing to report. The following afternoon, after we had long awaited Professor Sun’s return, we immediately had the fortune-teller wait at the guesthouse while Shirley Yang and I arranged to meet Professor Sun at a restaurant in the county seat.

At the restaurant, Professor Sun told us, "The reason I hesitated to tell you about the dragon bone script before was due to many concerns. But after thinking all night, I realized I couldn't stay silent, not even for Old Chen's sake; however, I insist that you proceed with extreme caution and avoid stirring up too much trouble."

I asked Professor Sun, "I don't quite understand. What exactly were your reservations? This artifact is thousands of years old; why can't its contents be disclosed now?"

He shook his head. "It’s not that they can't be said, but rather that the time isn't right. The information I possess is extremely limited. These dragon bones bearing strange script are ancient confidential documents detailing events that are little known, perhaps even omitted from official histories. Although the method for deciphering this celestial script has been mastered, the vast gulf of time makes interpreting and verifying the decrypted content incredibly difficult and complex. Moreover, many of these dragon bones are fragmented; well-preserved specimens are rare. If the deciphered content creates even a single word of ambiguity compared to the original text, the margin of error becomes enormous..."

I told Professor Sun, "We wouldn't understand the technicalities of the subject matter you’re discussing. We traveled thousands of miles to find you because we want to know about the Mu-dust Orb, and we hoped you could interpret the rubbing of the dragon bone script that Shirley Yang brought to see if there are any clues to the Orb's specific whereabouts."

Professor Sun took the rubbing and studied it for a long time before saying to me, "By regulation, this information is not supposed to be shared externally; that’s why I frightened you last time. This information is not yet mature, and releasing it would be an abdication of historical responsibility. But this time, for Old Chen's sake, I’m disregarding the regulations and taking the risk today. You ask about the Mu-dust Orb. I know very little about it; I suspect it might be a symbolic ritual object, shaped remarkably like an eyeball, first appearing around the Shang-Zhou period. In the unearthed oracle bone writings from the Western Zhou period, there is no clear information regarding the Orb's era of creation, who made it, or where its materials originated. The rubbing you brought is similar to others I’ve seen, and I cannot definitively state that the symbols on the bone refer to the Mu-dust Orb. However, I can tell you this with certainty: this symbol, resembling both an eyeball and a vortex, represents the Phoenix in Zhou Dynasty secret writings. The information recorded on this rubbing describes the Western Zhou people's account of the 'Phoenix Cry at Mount Qi.'"

My mind flooded with questions, so I asked, "The Phoenix? Isn't that an animal invented by the ancients? Did it really exist in this world?"

Professor Sun replied, "That’s hard to say. Because these dragon bone celestial texts record extremely vital archival data belonging only to the ancient ruling class, ordinary people could never access their contents. For that reason, I personally have great faith in what is recorded in the secret bone writings. That said, I don't believe a phoenix exists in the world. Perhaps it's a cipher within a cipher, an allusion within an allusion."

I pressed further, "Are you suggesting that while the content appears to describe a Phoenix, it’s actually a substitute for a certain event or object? Like in some war movies we watch, where some Nationalist officers privately call the Chairman 'The Old Man,' and when they mention 'The Old Man,' everyone knows they mean Chiang Kai-shek?"

Professor Sun said, "Your analogy is quite clumsy, but the general idea is somewhat close. In ancient times, the Phoenix Cry at Mount Qi was an omen predicting that a righteous ruler would overthrow an immoral one, allowing the ascendant Zhou Dynasty to replace the decadent Shang and Zhou. The Phoenix, as a mythical auspicious beast, symbolized prosperity and fortune, carrying specific meanings across different historical periods and religious contexts. But what it signifies specifically within the dragon bone celestial script is difficult to ascertain. I deduced that the eyeball-shaped symbol represents the Phoenix based on the surrounding characters in the same passage on the bone; that part should not be mistaken."

I nodded. "That is correct, because the Mu-dust Orb has another alias: the 'Phoenix Gallbladder.' I don't know when that name started circulating, but it seems this ancient jade shaped like an eyeball has some connection to that mythical creature, the Phoenix. Professor, does this rubbing contain any clues regarding ancient tombs or geographical locations?"

Professor Sun replied, "It’s not that I refuse to tell you; there is genuinely nothing of the sort. I will write out the translation for you, and you will see for yourself: it is merely a text describing a heaven-worship ceremony concerning the Phoenix Cry at Mount Qi. Such documents were always highly valued by emperors; by invoking the prophecy of the Phoenix Cry, they could receive Heaven's mandate and achieve great things—much like how we set off firecrackers and hang red banners when opening a restaurant today, just to seek good luck."

Shirley Yang and I felt lost, as if submerged in a thick fog. We had fully expected this precious rubbing to reveal the whereabouts of the Mu-dust Orb, only to find this kind of content instead. I had Professor Sun write down the translation from the rubbing and read it several times, yet it mentioned no location whatsoever. It seemed this decades-old lead had reached another dead end.

To search for a new clue now would be no different from looking for a needle in a haystack. Frustration tightened my jaw until my teeth ached, and the veins on my forehead throbbed. Shirley Yang, beside me, was also biting her lip, trembling slightly, tears welling up in her eyes.

Seeing us both dejected, Professor Sun placed a photograph on the table. "Don't be so discouraged yet. Look at this picture I took yesterday. Perhaps a trip into the deep mountains of Yunnan will yield some results for you."