The movements of the insects in the valley were quite strange; why did they dare not venture further in? I hurriedly jumped onto the ruined wall, constructed of rammed earth and stone slabs, and gazed deep into the ravine from a height. The terrain ahead gradually sloped downward, but due to the vigorous, competing growth of various plants, visibility ended half a kilometer away. I estimated that after advancing a short distance further, we would enter the zone covered by that layer of toxic miasma.

I said to Fatty and Shirley Yang, "The fact that there are no insects further in suggests the presence of poisonous substances. For safety, let’s prepare our gas masks so we can put them on at any moment."

Although wearing gas masks in this humid and stifling valley would be intensely uncomfortable, we had no choice but to take them out to avoid poisoning. Once the miasma was detected, we had to be ready to cover our faces instantly. Before proceeding, the three of us each took a Heart-Rate-Reducing and Respiration-Slowing Wonder Pill, formulated according to a secret Mojin Xiaowei recipe, compounded by experts found by Big Gold Tooth. Whether they worked was still unknown.

I took out the deerskin map and located the marker for the ruined wall of the Xian King's tomb, comparing it with our surroundings to confirm its accuracy. By this reckoning, the Toad Mouth mark indicated on the Tomb-Guarding Codex should be located on the left side of the valley, not far from this ruined wall.

After walking seven or eight meters forward, Shirley Yang noticed a bare patch of ground where the vines and creepers were thickest; this anomaly in the densely overgrown valley prompted her to use her entrenching tool to dig a shallow pit. Crouching down, she examined the material in the soil. It turned out that, similar to the construction of the Maoling Mausoleum, repellent potions designed to last for ages had been buried near the main tomb to prevent insects and ants from causing damage. This technique was common in Han Dynasty imperial tombs; the simplest method involved burying sulfur and mercury mixed with various plants like [Chinese character block] Hemp Powder, Xun Huang Ji, and Lazy Bodhi. Due to their counteracting properties, these mixtures could remain buried for centuries without completely volatilizing.

Shirley Yang asked me, "We are still quite a distance from the main tomb of the Xian King here. Why lay down an insect barrier this far out?"

I paused to think and replied, "From the signs we encountered on the periphery, the Xian King was deeply versed in arcane arts, particularly the manipulation of Feng Shui layouts. For a royal tomb of this magnitude, not only must the main tomb's formation and geomancy possess the aura of an immortal resting place, but certain auxiliary nodal points must also be established nearby."

If these nodal points and stellar positions that supported the main tomb were managed well, it would be like adding wings to a fierce tiger or water to a swimming dragon for the main tomb’s primary locus. In the secret arts of Feng Shui throughout history, the most difficult part is the alteration of the layout—a task requiring a macro-level understanding of the cosmos, the mountains, rivers, and the celestial movements of the Big Dipper. Many charlatan Feng Shui masters who claim to alter layouts only understand minor details; changing the earth's veins is an entirely different matter.

Furthermore, the sheer labor involved in altering the Feng Shui layout is beyond ordinary capability, unless one is a regional ruler with immense power capable of undertaking such massive earthworks.

The "Transformation" volume of the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Arts details the methods for changing wind and water. Specifically, the "Yi Long Jing" (Dragon Change Scripture) records that altering the shape and momentum of the dragon veins, redirecting wind and changing water flow, requires manipulating at least nine primary related nodal points surrounding the earth veins. The first point transforms vitality into protective wrapping; the second point, with "two ears piercing the sky to the clouds"; the third, "fish serving as dragon whiskers to gather gold and water"; the fourth, a lofty Wu Wu Palace serving as support; the fifth, "adorning the Heavenly Beam, opening the Bright Hall"; the sixth, "waterways barred to set up reception"; the seventh, "sand feet suitable for turning left and right"; the eighth, "layered curtains passing through the dragon"; and the ninth, "nine bends circling back to face the mountain Shan Qian."

By modifying these nine stellar positions near the main vein, the Feng Shui lock and wrap are kept dense and tight, preserving the locus's form and vital energy for ten thousand years without breakage. Although this incantation appears ancient and obscure, anyone who has studied the Di Jing (earth scripture with a specific character replacement) understands it simply involves placing golden fish tanks, planting tall trees, or digging deep wells at specific locations; the real difficulty lies entirely in selecting the precise placement.

Because the vegetation here is too thick, other details are obscured for now, but the last of these nine points for altering the Feng Shui layout—the "Nine Bends Circling Back to Face the Mountain Shan Qian"—is perfectly clear.

The insect valley meanders, and in its deepest parts, the surrounding hills are chaotic, causing the water dragon vein threading through the valley floor to lose clear distinction between host and guest, seemingly usurping the main role. Presumably, within the dragon's halo of the water vein, the terrain will be even lower; sitting in a low position is like looking up from the bottom of a well, an atmosphere lacking dignity and imbued with subservience. Therefore, at the locking point of this water vein, a structure creating a "Nine Bends Circling Back to Face the Mountain Shan Qian" formation must be built.

At the beginning and the very end of the valley section, at every ninth turn, a structure like a shrine, ancestral hall, or temple must be erected to lend force to this water dragon vein and make its originating network manifest. If the structure is a Mountain God Temple, it must largely be of timber, and wood is most vulnerable to insects and ants; thus, measures to repel them would certainly have been necessary. I speculate this insect barrier was established to protect such a Mountain God Temple, and there are likely at least three such barriers, with further insect-repelling structures inside the temple itself.

Shirley Yang exclaimed with delight, "So, the Toad mark on the Tomb-Guarding Codex and the deerskin map must refer to some sort of deity's structure. It seems your Feng Shui theories are genuinely useful."

I replied to her, "Fish cannot leave water, and melons cannot leave their vines; tomb raiding and dragon seeking cannot leave the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Arts."

Fatty scoffed dismissively, "Look at him, boasting just because you mentioned his weight. If you're so capable, why don't you tell us what arrangements are in the Xian King's underground palace and what funerary artifacts are buried with him?"

Not wishing to waste time, we followed the insect barrier, veered off to cross the stream running through the middle of the insect valley, and slanted toward the depths to search for the temple site where the water dragon vein was revealed.

As I walked, I told Fatty and Shirley Yang, "I'm certain there's a structure like a Mountain God Temple on the valley side. Although these things seem bizarre, 'when one art is mastered, all arts are mastered.' As long as you grasp the secret Feng Shui arts, it's not difficult to see the underlying reason. As for the layout of the Xian King's underground palace, I cannot say until we are close. Any wild guess would be unreliable. However, since the ancient Dian Kingdom began its policy of isolation from the Central Plains civilization starting from the end of the Qin Dynasty—though it was later influenced somewhat by Han culture—I estimate the structure of the royal tomb must predominantly retain the customs of the pre-Qin era."

Fatty asked, "Last time we went to Shaanxi, Big Gold Tooth mentioned some stories about Qin Shi Huang's Mausoleum—saying they used human oil for candles that never extinguished for ten thousand years. Is that true?"

Shirley Yang corrected him, "It wasn't human oil, but the oil paste of Eastern Sea mermaids used as fuel, said to last ten thousand years. The four gates were equipped with self-firing crossbows and mechanisms that shot anything that approached."

Hearing Shirley Yang, I laughed, "That’s just historical exaggeration designed to impress. Eternal lamps exist in many noble and imperial tombs, but to those of us who raid tombs, such tales are a joke. Never mind how much mermaid oil it would take to burn for ten thousand years; once an ancient tomb's underground palace is sealed, air circulation stops. Without air, no matter how energy-efficient an eternal lamp is, what the hell is it going to burn? If air were allowed to circulate, this ancient underground palace would have rotted into ruins within a hundred years."

Even surviving Qin and Han tombs today, unless in special environments, rarely maintain their original appearance. We still don't know to what extent the Xian King's tomb, situated deep within this dense, secluded valley, has been preserved.

We had found our reference point. Despite the dense jungle vegetation and low visibility, it presented no further obstacle to us. Soon we discovered the second and third insect barriers laid down with the repellent potion. Because this deep valley was sheltered from wind and rain, and the insect repellent contained a large amount of sulfur and nitrate, not a single blade of grass could grow on the surface, nor had it been covered by moss or vines to this day—only slightly overlaid with soil, making it relatively easy for those in the know to find.

The valley began to widen considerably at this point, taking on a trumpet shape, and faint wisps of smoke and mist were now visible ahead. The further we proceeded, the thicker the white, hazy fog became. Looking ahead, the valley floor was completely shrouded in clouds and mist. Inside, there was a deathly silence, devoid of any sound of insects chirping, birds calling, or wind rustling through the grass.

This was the legendary Thong Mist, the toxic miasma that still lingered deep within the valley—a mist that made this gorge appear even more mysterious and inscrutable. And the even more mysterious Xian King's tomb lay at the end of this cloud cover.

Although we were still some distance from the miasma, we had to put on our gas masks just in case. Fatty looked toward the expanse of white fog ahead and said to Shirley Yang and me, "Since we are equipped with protective gear, why don't we just charge straight through this white fog? Wouldn't that be easier than struggling through these dense weeds and tangled grass searching for some temple?"

I replied to him, "Besides missing a few essential screws in your head, you don't have many other major flaws. Do you know how wide this area of miasma is? The white fog is so dense that once you enter, even if you don't get lost, your speed will be several times slower than normal due to the near-zero visibility. If we could walk through it in half a day, that would be one thing, but if we can't get out by nightfall, we can't take off our masks to eat or drink, putting us in a terrible bind."

As we spoke, we arrived at the foot of the mountain on the left side of the valley. We were now quite far from the Serpent Creek, almost directly in the middle of the three insect barriers. As we walked, a patch of flowering shrubs beside us suddenly began to shake, startling us. No one had touched the lush plants, and there was no wind—so why were the plants moving on their own? Could it be another strange tree or plant possessed by a Thong python? Fatty and I both raised our "Chicago Typewriters" (submachine guns) and pulled back the bolts, ready to spray the strange vegetation.

Shirley Yang raised her right hand: "Hold it—that's Sensitive Plant. Usually listless, but when disturbed by passing people or animals, it starts posing as if dancing, possessing the ability to react to sound and dance along. It's harmless to humans."

That large clump of Sensitive Plant shook like an earth spirit, then gradually split into two clumps, revealing half of a fiery red giant gourd behind it.