After a person dies, they should be buried properly. If they are not, they may become a zombie.
A good burial site not only allows the deceased to rest peacefully but also brings blessings to their descendants, ensuring a prosperous family, thriving business, and a peaceful home.
However, some places are not suitable for burials. If a person is buried there, the deceased will not find peace and may even bring misfortune to others. The phrase “not buried properly” can be divided into two situations.
The first situation involves cursed mountains and treacherous waters, where the terrain is chaotic. Such places are very unsuitable for burials. If an ancestor is buried there, the family will face chaos. In severe cases, illness, imprisoned, and descendants may die out.
The second situation does not harm the descendants but causes unrest for the deceased. The body may remain intact for hundreds of years, turning into a zombie and causing endless trouble. This is not due to good preservation techniques but rather the location and environment of the grave.
In Feng Shui, the two most important aspects are “Xing” and “Shi.” “Xing” refers to the terrain and shape of the burial site, while “Shi” refers to the state presented by that terrain.
When “Xing” and “Shi” are in conflict, the flow of earth energy is disrupted, leading to unnatural phenomena. A body buried in the ground may not decay but instead become a zombie, which is a typical example.
Fatty chuckled, “This is really interesting! It seems to have some theoretical basis, quite plausible.”
Big Gold Tooth did not take it lightly like Fatty. He was very interested in these matters and asked for more details, exclaiming, “It’s really hard to find a good Feng Shui spot. Any place that has a good combination of form and energy has already been claimed. With five thousand years of Chinese civilization, how many dynasties and emperors could we gather? Even with royal relatives, there wouldn’t be enough dragon veins to bury them all!”
I explained to Big Gold Tooth that there are countless dragon veins in China, but not many suitable for burials. The saying goes: “The true dragon moves along the great path, appearing and disappearing like a dragon’s body.” Dragons have nine sons, each different in temperament, talent, and appearance. Dragon veins are similar but much more complex.
The Kunlun Mountain can be seen as the source of all dragon veins. All mountain ranges can be considered branches of Kunlun. These branches can be viewed as independent dragon veins. The rise and fall of earth energy represent the dragon, referring to the “Xing” of the mountains. Given the vastness of the world, there are countless dragon shapes, but based on their “Xing” and “Shi,” these dragon veins can be either auspicious or inauspicious.
From the perspective of “Xing”, they may appear as dragon veins, but from the analysis of “Shi”, there are distinctions such as sinking dragons, hidden dragons, flying dragons, soaring dragons, and more.
Only those with the “Xing” like a giant cauldron covering the earth and the “Shi” like massive waves enveloping the world can be used to bury kings. A slightly lesser quality can be used for noble burials, while others, although they belong to dragon veins, may not be suitable for royal burials. Some dangerous dragon veins may not even be suitable for ordinary people.
Big Gold Tooth asked again, “Is there really endless mystery in this? Master Hu, do you think these dragon veins are truly effective? Take Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor; his mausoleum must have had excellent Feng Shui, yet the dynasty only lasted until Qin Er Shi before it changed.”
I replied, “The dragon vein’s form is just one aspect. From the perspective of nature, it makes a lot of sense, but I think it doesn’t quite apply to human society. The flow of history cannot be determined by Feng Shui. The Feng Shui not always unchanged. The mountains and rivers are products of nature; they come from nature and must follow its course. Building large-scale mausoleums requires immense manpower, moving mountains and digging valleys, which is no small feat. However, the changes in nature cannot be altered by human effort, such as earthquakes, floods, river changes, and landslides. These greatly impact both “Xing” and “Shi” and may even overturn the original layout. What was once a good site may become a bad one after a few years due to an earthquake. Nature plays tricks on us, and humans cannot control it.”
The three of us continued eating and drinking, chatting away, and before we knew it, several hours had passed. The restaurant began to fill up with more diners. People come to places like this for the lively atmosphere and the enjoyment of hot pot, and as more customers arrived, it became a bit chaotic.
Having nearly finished our meal, we decided to postpone our visit to the antique market for now. We agreed to prepare for a couple of days and then head to Shaanxi together to collect antiques.
Although we were going to a remote county town, it wasn’t deep into the mountains. We planned to take a leisurely route through Shanxi, so we didn’t prepare too much and kept our luggage light. The three of us took a train to Taiyuan.
After spending three to five days there, I initially planned to visit Li Chunlai’s hometown first. However, while in Taiyuan, I heard some news: this year, there had been heavy rainfall, causing the Yellow River to swell and flood, washing away many ancient tombs around the western bank of Zhuangling. After discussing it, we decided to change our plans and head west across the Yellow River.
We took a long-distance bus, and when we told the driver we wanted to cross the Yellow River to Gulan County, the bus broke down halfway, delaying us for four to five hours. After some time, the driver stopped the bus near the river and told us, “To get to Gulan, you need to cross the river first. The ferry is still quite far ahead, and it’s getting dark. By the time we reach the ferry, there may not be any boats left. This year, the water is high, and this section of the river is quite narrow. It used to be a small ferry crossing. If you want to cross, you can try your luck here and see if there are any boats. If you’re lucky, you might make it across before dark and find a place to stay.”
I thought that was a good idea. It would save us from getting stuck at the ferry in the dark and wasting another day. So, Fatty, Big Gold Tooth, and I got off the long-distance bus and sat by the river, waiting for a boat.
Once the bus left, we all felt a bit regretful. This place was incredibly desolate, with not a soul in sight. It was too late to turn back, so we had to find a way to cross the river.
Even from a distance, we could hear the thunderous sound of the rushing water. As we got closer, we were taken aback. We had only heard about the heavy rainfall this year, but we didn’t expect the river to be so wide, with muddy, turbulent waters flowing like yellow sludge. We wondered if there had ever been a ferry here; if there had been, it was likely submerged now.
We chose a spot with a clear view of the Yellow River and watched the scene unfold. At that moment, dark clouds rolled in, and a light rain began to fall. We were dressed lightly; while Fatty and I were relatively sturdy, but Big Gold Tooth started to shiver.
Fatty pulled out a bottle of liquor and urged Big Gold Tooth to take a few swigs to warm up, so he wouldn’t catch a cold. Then I took out some beef jerky and other snacks we had bought, eating while cursing the long-distance bus driver for being so inconsiderate. He must have thought we were too noisy and tricked us into getting off before we reached our destination. “Where the hell are we going to find a boat to cross the river?” I grumbled.
Looking at the raging river beneath me, I couldn’t help but feel anxious. When I was in the Lanzhou Military Region, I had seen locals using sheep-skin rafts to cross the river, but there wasn’t even a shepherd in sight here, let alone a sheep-skin raft.
All we could do was wait in the rain. I took a couple of big swigs of liquor, and the chill began to fade a bit. As it grew later, the sky darkened, and the rain fell in countless slanted lines, blown by the wind. Suddenly, I thought of my old comrades. The river’s roar grew louder, and I felt increasingly restless and frustrated, unable to hold back a shout directed at the Yellow River.
I didn’t even know what I was shouting, but it felt good to let it out.
Fatty and Big Gold Tooth followed suit, cupping their hands around their mouths and shouting as well. We all found it amusing, and the annoyance brought on by the rain lessened significantly. Before long, we had finished two bottles of liquor.
Fatty, feeling a bit tipsy, said, “Old Hu, now that we’re by the Yellow River, shouldn’t we sing a couple of verses of the Xintianyou folk songs?”
I mimicked the local accent and said to Fatty, “What do you know? You’re being foolish. If you’re not herding sheep, why sing those folk songs? Let me show you how to shout a couple of verses of Qin opera.”
Fatty seized the opportunity to tease me, “Old Hu, what do you know? Singing Qin opera here? Haven’t you heard that if you drink a sip of the Yellow River water, you should sing a tune of Xintianyou? Wherever you go, you should sing the local songs.”
I retorted angrily, “Where did you come up with all that nonsense? Drink the Yellow River water? Do you dare to drink it? I only know to drink the tap water from Changsha and eat Wuchang fish.”
Big Gold Tooth quickly played peacemaker, “Let’s each sing a line. Sing whatever you want; there’s no one around, so it won’t disturb anyone.”
Fatty boldly declared, “I’ll sing a couple of lines. You two listen, and if you like it, give me a compliment.”
I asked, “You haven’t had too much to drink, have you?”
Fatty ignored whether anyone wanted to hear him and held an empty liquor bottle like a microphone, ready to belt out a song. Just then, we heard the sound of a motor in the distance, and a small boat was coming downstream.
We quickly stood up and waved our arms at the riverbank, signaling the boat captain to come ashore.
The people on the boat clearly saw us but shook their hands repeatedly, indicating that they couldn’t stop here. After waiting for a long time, we finally spotted a boat, and we weren’t about to let it go. Otherwise, we would be stuck in the cold rain for who knows how long.
Fatty pulled out a wad of cash and waved it at the people on the boat. Sure enough, money talks. There was a bend in the river ahead where the water was calm, and the boat captain brought the boat to a stop.
Fatty went over to negotiate the price. It turned out that the boat was carrying machine parts and was heading downstream to repair a large ship. With the water levels high, they wouldn’t have risked coming out unless it was urgent.
On the boat, besides the captain, there was also his son, a teenager. We agreed to pay double the fare to be taken to the vicinity of Gulan County on the other side.
The cabin was filled with machine parts, leaving no room for us, so the three of us had to sit on the deck. Finally finding a boat, we hoped to cross the river, find a hotel, take a hot shower, and enjoy a warm bowl of buckwheat noodles. We needed a good rest after squatting by the river for two hours in the cold.
The river was rushing swiftly, and we had gone quite a distance when suddenly the boat shook violently, as if it had collided with something massive in the water. I was discussing what to eat with Fatty when the jolt nearly made me bite my tongue.
The rain had intensified, no longer just a light drizzle. Dark clouds rolled in, and thunder rumbled as torrential rain poured down. The captain hurried to the front of the boat to see what we had hit.
In the deep part of the river, there shouldn’t be any rocks, and we were going downstream, so it was unusual to collide with such a large object.
As the captain peered over the bow, the boat suddenly tilted again. Everyone clung tightly to the sides, fearing they might fall into the river. The boat rocked back and forth, and water splashed in, leaving everyone with a mouthful of muddy water.
Having drunk quite a bit earlier, I felt dizzy, but the cold river water splashed on me brought me back to my senses. I quickly spat out the river water I had swallowed, feeling nauseous. I noticed the captain had curled up in fear. He was the one steering the boat, and if he was this scared, what would happen to us?
I tried to pull him up, but the captain refused to stand, his face filled with terror. I asked him, “What’s wrong? Is there something in the river?”
The trembling captain pointed outside, “The River God has shown himself; he must be here to take our boat!”
Big Gold Tooth was seasick and had already thrown up all over the place, unable to move as he clung to a rope on the boat. It felt like the boat was stuck on something in the river. Despite the rushing water, we couldn’t get the boat to move.
In the midst of violent collisions, the boat seemed on the verge of capsizing. I needed to see what was in the river. Fatty and I, feeling the effects of the alcohol, didn’t feel much fear; it was as if we were walking on cotton. The boat tilted, and despite our efforts, we couldn’t move an inch.
Suddenly, the boat was jolted by the rushing water, causing Fatty to be thrown across the deck, his body slamming against the side of the boat. This shock partially sobered him up. Just as he turned to look into the river, the boat shook again, sending him back. Thankfully, it was a mechanical boat; if it had been wooden, it would have fallen apart after just a couple of hits.
I held tightly to the rope and asked Big Gold Tooth in a hurry, “Fatty, what’s in the river? Did you see it clearly?”
Fatty cursed, “Damn it! I didn’t see it clearly, but it’s big and dark, about the size of a truck, looks like a giant turtle.”
No matter what that thing was, if it hit us a few more times, the boat would surely capsize. I shouted to Fatty, “Grab something! Let’s deal with it!”
Fatty yelled back, “What do you want me to grab? We don’t have anything!”
I realized I was still a bit tipsy and had been looking for a submachine gun. Fatty’s words snapped me back to reality—this was inland, and we had no weapons.
The rain poured down heavily, soaking us completely. I felt around my waist and found my folding entrenching tool. I shouted to Fatty, “Grab the entrenching tool! Whether it’s a turtle or a fish, let’s chop it up!”
Fatty, still somewhat sober, knew we needed to take protective measures. He wrapped the rope around my waist a couple of times. My drunkenness faded significantly, and as the boat steadied for a moment, I dashed to the left side where we had been hit and leaned over to look into the river.
By now, it was dark, and the rain was heavy. The river was pitch black, but with flashes of lightning illuminating the scene, I could vaguely see a massive object in the murky water, half-submerged. It looked like some kind of aquatic creature, but I couldn’t tell if it was a fish or a turtle.
That enormous thing was swimming against the current, rapidly heading toward our boat. I clung tightly to the rope and swung the entrenching tool down, but it was too short to reach.
The boat was hit again, and I was thrown off balance, nearly falling overboard. The entrenching tool slipped from my hands and fell into the river. Luckily, Fatty grabbed the rope, preventing me from going in with it.
At that moment, I was completely sober, drenched in cold sweat, and my mind cleared up. The boat rocked violently, and I stumbled into the captain, who had been curled up in fear. I took the chance to say to him, “The boat is sideways! You need to figure out how to steer it around, or your son won’t survive either.”
The captain was superstitious and insisted that the “thing” in the river was the River God’s true form. He had planned to close his eyes and wait for death, but when I mentioned his son, he suddenly remembered that his boy was still in the cabin. Realizing they were both in danger, he decided to fight for their lives. He struggled to get up and rushed back to the helm.
Just as the captain stood up, he pointed into the river and shouted, “Oh no! It’s coming back!”
I followed his gaze, and just then, the boat’s spotlight illuminated the area. I saw a dark green object in the water, its visible part about the size of a truck, circling the boat, trying to capsize us.
There was no time to think. I pushed the captain into the control room. As the door opened, I spotted a bundle of thin steel pipes among the machine parts in the cabin.
I didn’t know where I got the strength, but I called Fatty over, and together we pulled out several steel pipes to use as spears, throwing them at the creature in the river.
In the darkness, I couldn’t tell if we were hitting it or what the effect was, but after throwing a dozen pipes, the creature disappeared from sight. It seemed we had driven it away.
The rain gradually lightened, and for a moment, the wind calmed. Everyone on the boat, having narrowly escaped disaster, looked pale and shaken. Big Gold Tooth had wrapped himself in the rope on the deck, tossed around by the boat’s swaying, but thankfully, he didn’t have an asthma attack. He was gritting his teeth, clutching his big gold tooth, and muttering prayers for protection.
Some things can’t be taken too literally; we have to think positively. Although our clothes were soaked, we had wisely placed our money and important documents in waterproof travel bags before the rain started. Despite the sudden and urgent situation, Big Gold Tooth had held onto the travel bag tightly, ensuring it didn’t fall into the river. This is the advantage of doing business—people are willing to risk their lives but won’t let go of their money. Even if the sky were to fall, they would hold onto their wallets tightly.
I told Big Gold Tooth that once we reached our destination, we should quickly find a hotel to take a hot shower; otherwise, we would surely get sick.
The captain’s son had hit his head in the cabin and was bleeding profusely, so we needed to get him to a hospital quickly. Not far ahead was Gulan County, where we planned to dock. I looked up and saw some scattered lights in the dark distance; that was our destination, the small county town of Gulan.
Just as the situation on the boat seemed to stabilize, suddenly, the boat was struck with tremendous force again. This impact was stronger than the previous ones, and it caught us off guard, sending us all tumbling onto the deck.
The boat tilted sharply, and Fatty grabbed the rope. Big Gold Tooth and I clung to his waist and thigh, respectively. Fatty shouted, “Don’t… don’t pull my pants down!”
Before he could finish, the boat tilted the other way. I wanted to grab the steel pipes from the cabin, but the boat was rocking so violently that I couldn’t get up. It was a miracle I hadn’t hit my head yet, let alone see what was happening around us.
The boat bobbed up and down in the churning muddy waters, and the deck and cabin were flooded. Everyone was soaked, looking like drowned rats.
The captain, desperate to get his son to the hospital, had completely forgotten about the River God or any dragon kings. He was determined to steer the boat toward the dock in Gulan County.
The Yellow River twists and turns, we encountered bend after bend. The area near Gulan was relatively calm, and as the boat turned into a bay, the creature that had been pursuing us finally stopped.
The lights ahead grew brighter, and the captain docked the boat at the pier. As we set foot on solid ground, we finally felt a sense of relief. Fatty took out some cash and paid the captain the agreed amount, plus a little extra. The captain, familiar with the dock workers, quickly found a few people to help rush his son to the hospital in the county town.