I immediately thought, no need to ask, this must be the esteemed True Man of All Trigrams. I played the part of a bystander, drawing near the crowd, and saw True Man Ma pointing and gesturing toward the direction down the mountain, pinpointing meridians, and saying to those people, "The northwest mountain is flat, the east mountain is slightly recessed, sheltered by a screen, embraced by a dragon vein. If our village's school were built here, it would surely produce many top scholars."

At that moment, a middle-aged mountain man with a worn satchel, rather unremarkable in appearance, who seemed to be merely passing through, overheard True Man Ma's words. He addressed the crowd, "Seeing your movements, are you perhaps planning to build here? This mountain is a gathering place for termites. Under no circumstances should you build a residence here, or accidents resulting in injury are likely."

True Man Ma was accustomed to being the center of attention; his assessments of terrain were always flawless, never missing the mark. Who dared to contradict him? Seeing that the mountain man looked utterly unfamiliar, clearly not a local, True Man Ma felt a surge of annoyance. He questioned him: "As an outsider, how do you know there are termites in this mountain?"

The passing mountain man replied, "The east mountain is concave, the west mountain is flat. The indentation serves as a northwest shield, then bends south, circling this mountain. Though it possesses the form of sheltering the wind, it lacks the true power to contain it. The wind congeals and the qi stagnates; stagnation breeds insects. That is why the earliest traditional character for feng (wind), contains chong (insect) inside. When wind meets mountain here, white ants are generated. In the arts of Qingwu or the I Ching, this location should be classified as Mountain-Wind Gu. Build a tower, and it will collapse; build a house, and it will crumble."

True Man Ma questioned, "The scenery here is beautiful—clear water and green mountains. How can there be a Gu phenomenon? While there are mountains and wind, I have never heard of Mountain-Wind Gu. Since you speak with such certainty, tell me, where does the Gu come from?"

The mountain man pointed down the slope. "Termites never act alone; wherever they appear, they move in organized hordes. The character Gu has three insects on top, representing the multitude. Multitude means many. The character Min (vessel) below symbolizes a damaged container, resembling an anthill. Although the surface layer here is intact, the substructure has been riddled and eaten hollow by countless tunnels. I am just a passing idler; I care nothing for gains or losses. I only cannot bear to see a house collapse and harm the innocent, which is why I spoke up to warn you. If my words were rash or improper, I ask for your tolerance. I shall take my leave now."

As the mountain man turned to depart, True Man Ma grabbed him firmly. "Hold on! Don't even think of leaving before explaining yourself fully! You claim there are ant nests in this mountain—that remains to be seen. But to interpret the ant infestation using the character Gu is sheer fabrication. Such petty trickery cannot deceive me."

The mountain man had no choice but to explain. "Since ancient times, Feng Shui and the calculation of numbers (Yi Shu) have been inseparable; hence the concept of Yin-Yang Feng Shui. This location sits by the Juma River bank; the water circles the west mountain. Where termites travel, water must also be present. Therefore, the Gu hexagram in the I Ching also carries the phrase, 'Favorable to cross the great river' (Lì Shè Dà Chuān). Mountain-Wind Gu corresponds to 'Favorable to cross the great river'."

True Man Ma laughed upon hearing this. "My ancestors for eight generations were Trigram Masters and Burial Masters. I know the I Ching by heart! You cannot fool me with numerology. The 'Favorable to cross the great river' in the Gu hexagram describes a situation where Gu has become extremely detrimental, requiring reversal—a call to set things right from chaos. Therefore, this hexagram is Yuan Heng, Lì Shè Dà Chuān (Primordial Success, Favorable to Cross the Great River). To interpret it so wrongly is utterly laughable."

At that point, several curious villagers rushed down to the slope and, with a few shovelfuls from their spades, indeed unearthed clumps of termites. Everyone looked at True Man Ma and the mountain man with newfound respect.

The mountain man then said to True Man Ma, "If you say 'Favorable to cross the great river' is merely a platitude, then any phrase with a similar meaning would suffice. This shows a shallow understanding of Yi Shu. In truth, 'Favorable to cross the great river' in this hexagram has a specific meaning. The Gu hexagram is Gen above Xun below, inherently belonging to the Xun Palace. Xun is Wood. The Gen trigram internally holds the Kan trigram; Kan is Water. To cross water using wood—that is the basis for the phrase 'Favorable to cross the great river.' I have pressing matters and cannot argue with you all day. If true geomantic paradises truly existed, why would there be Feng Shui masters making a living by assessing land for others? I advise you all not to cling too tightly to this. If mountains and rivers could truly speak, burial masters would starve." Having said this, he paid no mind to True Man Ma’s shifting expression of pale and green, turned, and walked away.

Standing by, I was struck dumbfounded. Indeed, there are always higher peaks beyond the mountain and greater masters beyond the master. I thought myself quite accomplished with my half-copy of the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art, but compared to this unassuming, passing mountain man, my meager knowledge was utterly worthless. For years, I only understood Feng Shui but not Yin-Yang. I suddenly realized: this mountain man was an expert in numerology and privy to secret Feng Shui techniques. It must be fate that I ran into him today; I couldn't possibly let this connection slip through my fingers.

In the moment it took me to process this, the passing mountain man had already descended the slope. True Man Ma, defeated in argument and claiming to know the Classics by heart, was likely a fraud. I didn't even spare him a second glance. I quickened my pace, taking three steps where two would suffice, and hurried after him.

The mountain path wound crookedly. After rounding a hollow, I finally caught up. I cut straight to the point, saying I wished to inquire about matters of numerology. The mountain man was surprisingly approachable and spoke casually with me. It turned out he was visiting relatives nearby and was currently rushing to catch a ride back to his hometown. Seeing the opportunity, I wasted no pleasantries and directly asked if he knew anything about the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art. Hearing this, the mountain man showed a flicker of surprise. He simply sat down with me amidst the trees at the foot of the mountain, and we began a detailed conversation. The Sixteen Characters of Heavenly Trigrams form a complete system, encompassing the four disciplines: Formula (Jue), Image (Xiang), Form (Xing), and Technique (Shu). It is said to have been created by King Wen of Zhou. However, because its calculations are so arcane and difficult for spirits and ghosts to fathom, very few could grasp its entrance. It was lost after the Han Dynasty, leaving behind only the Yi Shu Eight Trigrams. All later metaphysical numerology, including secret Feng Shui arts, derived from this source.

In the late Qing Dynasty, there was a tomb robber who had supposedly retired—known as Zhang Sanlianzi, or Third Master Zhang. It is said he excavated the complete image of the Sixteen Characters of Heavenly Trigrams from an ancient tomb. He then combined this with the tomb robber's proprietary tool, the "Dragon Seeking Formula," to compose the Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Art. But because this book stole the secrets of Heaven and Earth, it was feared it would shorten his lifespan, so he destroyed the Yin-Yang technique portion, passing down only the remaining half to his disciple, Sun Guofu, who possessed the 'Yin-Yang Eye.' He did not even pass it to his own direct descendants.

This mountain man turned out to be Zhang Yingchuan, a descendant of that same Master Zhang. Everything he knew and studied was passed down orally by his elders, and he had a particular mastery of Yi Shu. As we discussed the principles, our paths grew closer. Yin-Yang Eye Sun Guofu was my own grandfather's revered teacher. What a coincidence! He wasn't an outsider at all. Tracing our lineages back, we were contemporaries; I could call him Elder Brother.

Zhang Yingchuan inquired about my quest for the Sixteen Characters—the origin and purpose. He said the task was immensely difficult. Finding the Sixteen Characters was virtually impossible. Even if one were buried in some ancient tomb, it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Furthermore, since it concerns Heavenly Secrets, finding it might not be a blessing.

I felt that our understanding of "Heavenly Secrets" differed. I believed Heavenly Secrets referred only to methods for achieving immortality—secrets held by the ruling classes. I held no interest in fanciful notions of becoming an immortal. I only sought to remove the curse weighing upon me, which necessitated finding the method for using the Mù Chén Zhū (Mute Dust Pearl) within the Dragon Bone Heavenly Scroll. It was a matter of life and death. Thus, I dared the risk to dig graves in the deep mountains and ancient forests. Even dying in battle was preferable to the daily torment of watching my blood slowly solidify while waiting for death.

Zhang Yingchuan said, "If a brother is in trouble, an elder brother should step forward. But alas, my own skills are meager, and the family's tomb-robbing arts were not passed down, so I cannot be of much help. However, Yi encompasses myriad phenomena. As the ancients said: 'Constant change is Yi; the enduring law of heaven and earth is Jing (Classic).' All fortune and misfortune in the cosmos follow certain patterns. Your humble elder brother has a slight understanding of this way. Though I can only trace the outline, it is better than nothing. Allow me to cast a divination for you right here, to divine the path of your Dragon Seeking journey by observing the Dao of Heaven."

I was overjoyed at this prospect, feeling as if a cloud had parted to reveal the sun. Zhang Yingchuan did not require any specific object to cast a reading; wherever his mind settled, heavenly indications arose. He casually plucked a few leaves from the trees and tossed them to the ground. Observing the resulting trigram pattern, I was amazed: "Remarkable! The key number is here, and it is once again the Mountain-Wind Gu hexagram: Yuan Heng, Lì Shè Dà Chuān, three days before the first Jia day, and three days after the last Jia day."

I was completely ignorant and hurriedly asked, "What does this hexagram mean? Can the curse on our backs be lifted?"

Zhang Yingchuan replied, "The mother of Gan Gu (Sweet Gu) obtains the middle way. Favorable to cross the great river signifies moving toward action. The wind comes from the West, so the key subject lies in the West; traveling West will bring harvest. However, wind drives fire; this hexagram involves wood crossing water, so fire here is inauspicious, transforming into life upon meeting water. If you encounter fire before achieving success, it is not yet attained. But meeting water achieves the middle way, yet the outcome is still not definitively auspicious. Three days before the first Jia, three days after the last Jia—the end leads to the beginning. This is the movement of Heaven. Remember this, remember it well."

I had been apprehensive about the Tibetan region for days, a knot in my chest, unable to commit to the journey. Seeing this manifestation in the hexagram, I immediately made up my mind. It seemed that unless I made a trip up Kunlun Mountain, this calamity could never be resolved. I then asked what the Mù Chén Zhū actually was—was it an eye, or a phoenix?

Zhang Yingchuan stared at the few leaves for a long moment before answering, "If it is an eye, and also a phoenix, then this object is longevity itself."

I found this baffling. How could it be both an eye and a phoenix? Could it be the eye of a phoenix? The phoenix is a mythical divine beast; how could a phoenix's eye exist in this world?

Zhang Yingchuan interpreted the hexagram for me: Xian Jia San Ri, Hou Jia San Ri, Zhong Ze You Shi (Three days before the first Jia, three days after the last Jia, the end becomes the beginning)—all indicating cycles of revolution and return. Legend says the phoenix is immortal, reborn from ashes in Nirvana; this also embodies the principle of endless life. The eye is two; three days is an odd number. Though the sun resembles an eye, it is not an eye, so it cannot strictly be called an eye. However, with the presence of 'three' preceding it, there is an excess of one, thus it can again be considered an eye. Viewing the object through the lens of numerical mystery, it might be something symbolizing the meaning of eternal life, extremely similar to a human eye, yet not a human eye. But precisely what it is, even divine insight cannot fully grasp.

Although he could not pinpoint the exact nature of the Mù Chén Zhū, his explanation was like a flash of lightning, leaving me utterly convinced and filled with admiration. The thick fog obscuring my path had finally cracked open. I had not revealed the specifics of the Mù Chén Zhū to him beforehand, yet with a few leaves and two questions, he deduced the word "Longevity." Combined with my recent experiences, everything matched. The precision of these Eight Trigrams was already astonishing; if the Sixteen Characters existed, the powers would truly be divine.

Zhang Yingchuan said his current allotment of divination was exhausted; casting more would defy the way of Heaven. We had just reunited, yet now had to part ways again. The accuracy of a divination lies in the harmony between one's intent and the heavenly mechanism. A slight deviation could lead to a thousand miles of error. The reading cast just now can serve as a reference—do not believe it entirely, but do not dismiss it entirely either. May you take care of yourself. Should fate allow, we shall meet again.

I memorized every word of his divinatory phrases. If I survive my return from Tibet, I will certainly seek him out again. We exchanged addresses. I escorted him all the way to the station at the foot of the mountain before bidding a reluctant farewell. I stood there, reflecting on those cryptic phrases, sensing a depth of mystery that was unfathomable.