Chapter Thirty-Five: The Treacherous Dragon Pool

“Old Yuan, damn, what happened to you guys?” Old Tan’s voice sounded in my ear.

I turned to see Old Tan and two other companions gathered around us. Qin Feng helped me up, and then we all took off our raincoats. The raincoats were riddled with holes, and our clothes and pants had been scorched through. Thankfully, the white liquid hadn’t touched our skin. Quickly, we stripped off every layer, standing bare before changing into the spare clothes our companions had brought.

Once dressed, I took the canteen handed to me and gulped down two mouthfuls, feeling my muscles slowly relax.

Old Tan leaned in again, “What did you run into? And hey, where’s Master Hua?”

“Hua...” I came to my senses. “Hua Sheng is still on the bridge.”

Without another word, I hurried to the bridge’s edge. One glance, and I stood frozen. The white mist on the stone bridge was dissipating, and overhead, that massive shadow swept across the sky again. Old Tan and the others approached, and upon seeing it, their faces twitched with unease.

Suddenly, a thunderous crash echoed from ahead, and the entire stone bridge began to crumble and collapse. Within seconds, nothing remained but swirling white mist.

“The bridge is gone, the bridge is gone, then... Hua Sheng...” My heart skipped a beat.

At that moment, a whiff of cigarette smoke wafted up from the cliff below. Looking down, I saw a hand gripping a protruding rock. Soon, a slender figure with a cigarette between his lips climbed up from the broken cliff’s edge.

“Hua Sheng!” I cried out.

He didn’t respond, just smiled at me, panting as he sat by the cave entrance.

Relief flooded my chest—this guy must have climbed up from beneath the bridge. Old Tan and the other two were still staring ahead, unmoving. I turned back, and seeing that airborne figure again, the shock in my heart was undiminished. Who knows how long it lasted, but finally, the giant creature with half a human face vanished into the tranquil pool.

“My heavens,” Old Tan suddenly looked at me, “Old Yuan, am I dreaming?”

I forced a bitter smile, thinking to myself that even I couldn’t tell anymore.

Qin Feng handed me a cigarette, lit one for himself, and we all sat down in silence, smoking.

“Brother Feng, the bridge is gone, how will we get back?” one of the companions asked.

Qin Feng exhaled smoke. “There might be escape tunnels used by laborers in the tomb chamber. If not, we’ll dig our own way out.”

“Hey, what was that thing just now?” Old Tan craned his neck.

I was full of questions myself, thinking back to what had happened, then looked at Hua Sheng.

“That was a ‘Reverse Scale,’” Hua Sheng said calmly, his eyes narrowed, as if resting or lost in thought.

“Reverse Scale?” Qin Feng frowned. “If I recall correctly, that creature is supposed to be the South Sea Dragon King’s great-grandson, one of the ‘Nine Sons of the Imperial Pool’—a celestial being. Surely that’s too far-fetched.”

Hua Sheng opened his eyes slightly and smiled. “You’re right, but when placed in a tomb, the Reverse Scale takes on a different meaning.”

We all stared at Hua Sheng, waiting for him to continue.

“To talk about the Reverse Scale, you need to know something else,” Hua Sheng took a deep drag. “Ancient tombs put great emphasis on burial sites—meaning the geomantic veins and feng shui, matching the energy of the land with the deceased. This mountain’s terrain is called ‘All Beings Worship the Mother,’ but it’s unsuitable for burials, which makes this tomb suspicious. In ancient times, anyone with even a basic understanding of feng shui wouldn’t bury family here. Doing so brings no benefit, and might even offend ‘Heavenly Conflict,’ meaning a clash with divine veins. However, there’s one way to resolve such a conflict—placing an object belonging to a divine bloodline in the tomb. The Reverse Scale is said to be a descendant of the South Sea Dragon Lord. Wherever it dwells, so long as it doesn’t conflict with the sixty-six main veins of grand feng shui, it won’t cause any harm. In fact, such a place, however mediocre its feng shui, can become a ‘Dragon Pool Treasure Land.’”

Qin Feng chimed in, “But ‘Dragon Pool Treasure Lands’ are reserved for crown princes who failed to inherit the throne. Are you suggesting this is the tomb of a Western Han crown prince?”

Listening for a while, I didn’t fully understand, but I felt a spark of excitement and asked Hua Sheng, “So what we saw just now was truly a celestial being?”

Hua Sheng smiled, “Feng shui is all about intent, not literal truth. As long as something fits the definition, it can be called so. As for what’s in the water, I don’t believe it’s any celestial being.”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s a god or a monster,” Old Tan interjected, “something that big—if we filmed it and posted online, we’d go viral for sure.”

Everyone laughed at Old Tan’s suggestion. One companion said, “You could film it, and it’d be a hit. But have you ever seen a tomb robber parade his own evidence online? Little brother, you came in with us—if I get caught, it's whatever, but with your slick looks, your family must have connections. If I turn you in, maybe I’ll get a shorter sentence.”

Old Tan, hearing this, looked as if he’d boarded a pirate ship and immediately fell silent.

Hua Sheng continued, “Whether that thing is a Reverse Scale isn’t the point. What matters is its appearance between the mausoleum and the tomb, which allows us to interpret it as such. ‘Reverse: within a hundred miles none may approach, white rain separates, all who enter become bones’—that phrase describes the corrosive white liquid we just encountered. Legend has it, this thing only emerges once every thirty years, and we happened to run into it.”

Suddenly, a thought flashed in my mind. “Wait, you said this might be the ancient kingdom of Yelang. If I recall, the king of Yelang was at most a borderland ruler—how could he challenge the emperor?”

“That’s the crux of the matter,” Hua Sheng replied. “The Yelang kingdom was destroyed in the early Western Han, a period shrouded in secrecy. Most records are unreliable, so we needn’t bother with them. But if this really was made into a ‘Dragon Pool Treasure Land,’ then we can infer the builders were either the emperor himself or someone seeking to defy fate—using the ‘Dragon Pool Treasure Land’ to change their family’s destiny.”

“So you mean the Yelang king wanted to use feng shui to alter the imperial fate of the Liu dynasty?” As I spoke, I recalled the tale of Yelang’s arrogance—clearly not an unfounded legend.

Hua Sheng’s expression suddenly turned odd; after a few seconds, he said, “Based on what we’ve seen, that might be the case. But there’s something else curious.” He paused, then smiled. “This place was never part of the Yelang kingdom.”

“Tch, so that’s pointless,” a companion laughed.

At first, I also thought Hua Sheng’s theory had no foundation, but upon reflection, something didn’t add up. When we descended, the method we used came from an ancient book about Yelang, which couldn’t be mere coincidence. Thinking of this, I recalled Hua Sheng’s shocking expression at the time. What had he seen or realized to make him so agitated?

Qin Feng now asked, “You’re not just trying to have a chat, are you?”

He was an old hand, seeing through people and matters instantly. Only then did I realize—damn, why was Hua Sheng telling me all this? I was here to save my father.

Hua Sheng smiled, “That’s right, these things have little to do with your purpose. Still, this place is a constructed ‘Dragon Pool Treasure Land.’ Everyone knows that forced perfection is never sweet, and mausoleum feng shui is the same. Even if this place is flawless, it will still have many problems. The tomb passage isn’t finished yet, so I just want to warn you: this is not only a Dragon Pool Treasure Land, but also a Dragon Pool Evil Land.”

“Sounds mysterious. I don’t believe there’s anything inside more sinister than that giant spider or fish,” one companion declared.

I wasn’t so sure. “Hua Sheng, are you saying there’s more danger inside?”

“To use a Reverse Scale to create feng shui is, frankly, to defy the heavens. Such a place would be strange if it wasn’t dangerous,” Hua Sheng said, lighting another cigarette and seeming unwilling to speak further.

Qin Feng stood, brushing dust from his clothes. “No risk is greater than the old master’s life. Let’s tidy up and move on.”