Chapter Fifty-Two: The Tyrant Lays Down His Armor

Gu Anqi took a brocade box from her bag and presented it to Lan Qing with utmost respect.

“My father said, since it’s your birthday this year and he didn’t prepare a special gift, he asked me to deliver this to you.”

“Senior Brother Gu is too thoughtful, to even remember my birthday,” Lan Qing replied, taking the brocade box and opening it slowly. She paused in surprise.

What she held in her hand was a small, exquisite bronze key.

I glanced at the wooden box in my own hands and suddenly spoke with delight.

“Aunt Lan, you just mentioned your master gave each of you and your senior brothers and sisters something—could it be that what he gave to Anqi’s father is this key?”

Gu Anqi blinked and turned to me. “Last time, when you deduced that the clue to the Fourteenth Ming Tomb was on Mount Qingcheng, it reminded me that my father once told me he had a key—this very key, which is also connected to the Fourteenth Ming Tomb. That’s why I rushed back to Hong Kong. My father told me to bring this key to Aunt Lan, and he also said… what was it… ‘On the day of Renyin in the month of Xinwei in the year of Jiazi, offer the box to the dragon; this key will be needed.’”

Lan Qing placed the key gently on the table and fell silent, finally speaking in a calm tone, “Before my master passed, he repeatedly warned us that the Fourteenth Ming Tomb must never be opened. Senior Brother Gu was the principal disciple, and the secret of the tomb was entrusted to him alone. He must know that our master wanted us to keep this secret. Why… why does Senior Brother Gu now want to open the Fourteenth Ming Tomb?”

Gu Anqi replied earnestly, “Aunt Lan, my father said that news of the Fourteenth Ming Tomb has already leaked. There are many who covet it, even some from our own circles. The situation has become urgent. To keep these people from finding the tomb first, it’s too late to simply try to stop them. The only solution is to reach it before they do, because if those with malicious intent open the tomb, disaster will surely follow.”

After hearing Gu Anqi’s words, I finally understood how she could know so much about such a closely guarded secret. I had wondered about this from the first time I met her at Wang Guya, especially since she was also aware of the existence of the “Hidden Dragon Art of the Nine Heavens” and even knew the incantation to open the Golden Dragon Tortoise. I had always been curious about her father’s true identity; now all my doubts were resolved—her father, Gu Liancheng, was indeed a guardian of the secrets of the Fourteenth Ming Tomb.

Lan Qing calmly slid the key toward me. “Offer the box to the dragon—my master foresaw that you would come today. Since Senior Brother Gu has sent the key, open the wooden box and see what lies inside.”

Excitement bubbling within me, I picked up the key and unlocked the wooden box. Wrapped inside yellow silk was an ancient painting. I carefully unrolled it and spread it out on the table.

The painting’s first impression was one of sheer grandeur: towering peaks, their cliffs dominating the canvas, densely wooded crests, waterfalls plunging from the mountainside, massive boulders scattered at the base in intricate patterns. The bold, austere brushwork outlined the mountains and stone veins with force, while rich ink depicted the steep, majestic, and boundless terrain.

On the left side of the painting, several vigorous characters were inscribed: “Map of the Heavenly Granary in Western Sichuan.”

“Heavenly Granary?!” Yue Qianling examined the painting closely and exclaimed in surprise. “This… this is Mount Qingcheng! Its ancient name was Heavenly Granary Mountain. From the painting, you can see the Laojun Pavilion, the Shangqing Palace, and the Chaoyang Cave—it’s a complete panorama of Mount Qingcheng.”

I furrowed my brow, murmuring thoughtfully, “Mount Qingcheng again! Just as I deduced, the clue to the Fourteenth Ming Tomb is indeed here. But what is the secret within this painting?”

Yue Leiting’s eyes lit up when he heard the map was connected to the Fourteenth Ming Tomb.

“This might be a treasure map; maybe the tomb really is hidden on Mount Qingcheng.”

“But even if it is a treasure map, with so many mountains shown, there’s no telling where the tomb is. It’s not marked. Having the map is no different from not having it,” Xiao Lianshan commented after glancing at the painting.

Yue Leiting searched for a long while, but as Xiao Lianshan said, he found nothing special. Disappointed, he sat back down.

“It can’t be that simple. When Master gave us five items, he only said the clues to the Fourteenth Ming Tomb were hidden within them, but even he did not know the tomb’s exact location,” Lan Qing said calmly, shaking her head.

“I agree with my mother on this—there’s no way the Fourteenth Ming Tomb is on Mount Qingcheng,” Yue Qianling declared firmly.

“Why not? Mount Qingcheng is huge; hiding a tomb there would be easy,” Yue Leiting insisted, lighting a cigarette.

“Dad, are you even thinking? Mount Qingcheng is a famous mountain with countless visitors every day. Everyone knows that treasures are always hidden in remote places. If they really built the Fourteenth Ming Tomb on Mount Qingcheng, ha! There’d be no need for clues—it would have been dug up ages ago, and you wouldn’t be dreaming of it every day,” Yue Qianling retorted brashly.

“This isn’t just a landscape painting—it’s a feng shui map,” I said calmly with a smile. “Mount Qingcheng is a cradle of Taoism, famed for its seclusion. The Taoists value feng shui greatly and wouldn’t choose a site lightly for their sect. After studying this painting, I realized that the ‘seclusion’ of Mount Qingcheng doesn’t refer to its environment, but to its hidden burial grounds.”

“Hidden burial grounds? Brother, do you mean people could be buried on Mount Qingcheng?” Xiao Lianshan asked in confusion.

Gu Anqi, after hearing my words, examined the painting again. “That’s right. This full view of Mount Qingcheng—its thirty-six peaks, eight great caves, seventy-two small caves, and a hundred scenic spots—if you look at it as a whole, there’s a back mountain as support, a Green Dragon to the left, a White Tiger to the right, a case mountain in front, a central hall, and winding waters. The burial site gathers wind and energy, promising prosperity and wealth, while the wide open plains suggest a boundless future for descendants.”

Lan Qing nodded in approval at the painting. “Senior Brother Gu truly inherited Master’s mastery of feng shui. His skill is unparalleled. I’m impressed, Anqi, that you’ve also absorbed his teachings at such a young age. You’re both correct—this is a feng shui map.”

“I thought there were supposed to be clues in the painting?” Yue Qianling was bored, uninterested in things she considered unscientific. “Now it’s a feng shui map… Does that mean the best feng shui spot is where the clue is hidden?”

I suddenly looked up, a realization dawning on me, and smiled. “You’re making sense for once. Qianling is right—since this is a feng shui map, the place with the best feng shui must be where the clue is hidden.”

“That’s not hard. Judging by the map, the best spot is clear,” Gu Anqi said without hesitation, pointing to the Five Caves. “This valley faces the river, commands the terrain, overlooks the sources, and gazes in all directions. The twin peaks to the southeast embrace it—this is the Land of the Whale’s Maw!”

Lan Qing beamed at where Gu Anqi pointed. “Indeed, the Whale’s Maw formation—wealth flows in like water, endlessly, truly a land of fortune.”

Seeing that I remained silent, Yue Qianling, for reasons she couldn’t explain, trusted me more than Gu Anqi. “So, what about you? Is this the place?”

“Head to the east, feet to the west—certainly an auspicious spot,” I replied after a long, thoughtful pause. “But the Whale’s Maw is a wealth site, and it’s so obvious in the painting. I don’t think it’s where the clue is hidden. Besides, Taoists are recluses, not obsessed with worldly riches.”

Lan Qing found my reasoning persuasive.

I slowly pointed to another spot on the painting. “Doesn’t this place look odd to you?”

I indicated a towering peak, unlike the others. Its summit was bright and bare, the soil crimson, surrounded by a ring of pine trees—all of which seemed to have been struck by lightning. The branches, rendered in pale ink, appeared desolate and withered.

Lan Qing studied it and frowned in surprise. “This is a blood-soaked land—most ominous, formed from surging blood energy. Its malice is unmatched. Even the heavens have marked it. Look at the trees: struck repeatedly by lightning, and with each strike, the blood energy deepens.”

I nodded, then smiled calmly. “Precisely because this is a blood-soaked land, it caught my attention. If you connect this peak with the others around it, you’ll see there are five in total, arranged in accordance with the Luo numbers, the central one reigning supreme and commanding the four directions, like five fingers clenched in a fist—grasping authority over the world.”

“Overlord Shedding Armor!” Gu Anqi exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Aunt Lan, look! I can’t believe I missed it—this is the real burial point.”

“Indeed, it’s the Overlord Shedding Armor spot. But the main peak, crimson and repeatedly struck by lightning, though it commands the world, will inevitably see mountains of corpses and rivers of blood,” Lan Qing said, taking a deep breath.

I sipped my tea, composed. “Taoists value feng shui. How could they not recognize such a blood-soaked land? If someone craved power and buried their ancestors here, it would be as they say—a general’s glory built on countless bones. This is why the Taoists chose Mount Qingcheng for their teachings and for enshrining their founder’s spirit tablet. No one is allowed to be buried on Mount Qingcheng.”

Yue Qianling, intrigued by my analysis, leaned over to see the spot I indicated. “That place is the Celestial Master’s Cave!”

I started for a moment, but soon regained my composure. The first time I’d heard of the Celestial Master’s Cave was from Fang Yanan—she had ambushed artifact traffickers there, and the mysterious man obsessed with obtaining the dragon-headed wood had also been found at the Celestial Master’s Cave.

Now, the clue hidden within the “Map of the Heavenly Granary in Western Sichuan” also pointed unmistakably to the Celestial Master’s Cave.

This could not be a mere coincidence. Clearly, my deductions were correct.

The clue to the Fourteenth Ming Tomb on Mount Qingcheng was indeed to be found in the Celestial Master’s Cave.