It was already afternoon. According to custom, pasting the Spirit Eye shouldn’t be done at night, so they needed to start immediately. Jiang Lian still had some impression of what he had seen earlier, so he first sketched a rough outline and handed it to Road Three Bright, telling him to dispatch a small team to start searching while he continued with a more detailed drawing.
However, Kuang Meiying wasn’t by his side, so he needed to find someone else to assist him.
As soon as this idea was mentioned, Shen Gun volunteered eagerly. Having tumbled and rolled into a complete mess, he at least needed to “rest quietly” for the day and couldn’t move around much. He thought about lying down beside Jiang Lian, occasionally handing him a brush or something, thus being useful while observing the Spirit Eye up close, making the time worthwhile.
Jiang Lian said, “You won’t do.”
Shen Gun asked curiously, “Why not?”
Jiang Lian didn’t answer directly, instead gently guiding him: “It’s always been Meiying assisting me. She’s a woman, isn’t she?”
Shen Gun suddenly understood—so pasting the Spirit Eye had gender requirements.
Jiang Lian didn’t say anything more. After all, he was the only one who knew how to paste the Spirit Eye, so he made the rules, and whatever he said went.
So Meng Qianzi accompanied Jiang Lian into the RV. She had never participated in the entire process before and found it both curious and exciting. While preparing the paper and sharpening the brushes, she asked Jiang Lian, “Once you enter that state, do you become completely unaware of everything? Unless you’re punched, kicked, burned by fire, or doused with water?”
Jiang Lian nodded.
“So if you were tied up and sold to work in a coal mine, you wouldn’t know?”
Jiang Lian found this conversation rather puzzling: “What are you planning to do?”
Meng Qianzi methodically arranged the sharpened brushes one by one: “I don’t know. I don’t understand myself very well. Sometimes, I do very cruel things that I can’t control—if you wake up and find yourself in a coal mine, don’t blame me.”
Jiang Lian remained calm: “I’m confident that my value is slightly higher than that of a pure manual laborer digging coal. Anyone who would take that meager payment to sell me into coal mining… well, they wouldn’t be very smart.”
Meng Qianzi didn’t argue. Just as he was about to enter his meditative state, she reminded him once more: “Don’t you want to look at me a bit longer? After this, you’ll only be seeing coal.”
Jiang Lian closed his eyes, ignoring her, but unconsciously imagined: if he woke up in a coal mine tunnel, he wouldn’t resent her.
He might be amused by her, then escape the coal mine using his intelligence and cleverness—the security at those small coal mines shouldn’t be enough to stop him—and after finding Meng Qianzi, ask her: “Why did you sell me to dig coal?”
He almost laughed out loud.
Being with Meng Qianzi made everything, whether good or bad, enjoyable and interesting.
Absolute silence had to be maintained inside the RV, so Shen Gun naturally had to wait outside. His face and head were scraped in several places, covered with four or five bandages, making him look quite comical.
The rain had stopped, a cool breeze was blowing, and there were lounge chairs and umbrellas. Road Three Bright brought over a small stool to chat with him, making the time pass pleasantly.
As they talked, Shen Gun remembered the Sheng family matter again: “Your… Eight Thousand Mountains, which was previously the Sheng family’s unexplored mountain, where exactly is it?”
On Guangxi’s map, there were Six Thousand Mountains and Nine Thousand Mountains, but no Eight Thousand Mountains. However, Guangxi had numerous peaks, and any unnamed mountain could potentially be—it depended on how the Mountain Ghost sect named these peaks internally.
Road Three Bright said, “It’s far from here, quite a distance away.”
“So… during the Song and Yuan dynasties, when the Sheng family lived on Phoenix Mountain, was it here?”
Road Three Bright wasn’t certain: “Phoenix Mountain is a broad term, spanning several dozen kilometers across four counties. Whether it’s specifically here, I’d have to check.”
He took out his phone and operated it for a while, then shook his head: “It’s not here. You’d need to go further east, to the neighboring county’s neighbor.”
So it wasn’t here after all. Shen Gun thought for a moment, then suddenly had an idea: “Where did they live before Eight Thousand Mountains? And before the Song and Yuan dynasties, where did they live? Can you check further back, like during the Qin and Han dynasties, or the Xia, Shang, and Zhou periods?”
Road Three Bright felt that this Three-Layered Lotus Petal was truly impulsive: “Mr. Shen, even the national history doesn’t have detailed records of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties. Do you think our Mountain Ghost sect would? Besides, the Mountain Ghost’s exploration developed over a very long period, gradually improving before eventually becoming systematic and documented. Some areas started work early and kept early records, while others started later and documented later—generally speaking, forget about the Qin and Han dynasties; having records from the Sui and Tang periods would be quite impressive.”
It didn’t matter; they could check whatever was available. Shen Gun made his request: “Then take a look. Wherever there are records, where has the Sheng family lived?”
Fortunately, most records had been digitized and promptly entered into the app, otherwise, it would have been a massive project. Road Three Bright filtered through while responding: “If they moved into cities, we wouldn’t have records. As long as they lived in the mountains, we generally have records.”
He clicked a button to generate a trajectory display of the found records: “Look, they circled the mountainous areas of Guangxi, moving between peaks. They always chose isolated and treacherous mountains, places rarely visited by people, easy to defend but difficult to attack…”
Shen Gun leaned in to look.
Indeed, they circled the northwestern Guangxi area without any discernible pattern. Each place they had lived was marked with a point, and these points were scattered. Shen Gun also saw Eight Thousand Mountains, which was some distance from here, but this distance was only relative.
He also noticed that along the Phoenix Mountain range, there were four or five scattered points. Although not in one place, it at least indicated that the Sheng family had chosen to settle in this mountain range quite often.
Road Three Bright continued examining the chronological information: “The earliest… truly starts from the Sui and Tang dynasties. Before that, where they lived is hard to say—they might have lived on Zhenlong Mountain, or perhaps right here at Phoenix Right Eye. Without records, anything is possible.”
At this point, he looked up at the sky, which was gradually darkening.
Road Three Bright called Pi Xiu to ask about their progress.
Pi Xiu answered quickly, his tone noticeably anxious: “We can’t find it! Oh, Brother Road, even if you came, you couldn’t find it either. It’s all mountains and trees, valleys and gorges. With just a bird’s-eye view sketch, how are we supposed to find anything?”
Road Three Bright, having been reprimanded by Meng Qianzi earlier, firmly remembered that he was a leader who needed to have judgment and guide his subordinates: “As they say, those amid a situation are often confused. You can’t find it because you’re ‘only dwelling within this mountain.’ You need to constantly break free from the constraints of the surrounding terrain and imagine what the overall contour looks like…”
As he was speaking, he suddenly heard Jiang Lian behind him saying, “The valley area is too large. I suggest you combine the surrounding mountain shapes, pull up an electronic map, then create a mobile positioning for Pi Xiu, and compare it with my drawing. The place where they roughly overlap should be the spot.”
Hearing this, Shen Gun turned around: “Are you finished already?”
It wasn’t even dark yet. Usually, it would take him several hours to complete a drawing, wouldn’t it?
Jiang Lian handed him the drawing paper: “It depends on the situation. Sometimes, just sketching the direction, landmarks, and general terrain is enough; it doesn’t need to be that detailed. Besides…”
He didn’t turn around: “I wasn’t confident and was afraid that if I took too long drawing, I might get sold off.”
Shen Gun and Road Three Bright were busy examining the drawing and adjusting the electronic map, so they didn’t pay attention to what he was saying.
But Meng Qianzi, who had just come down from the RV, heard it all.
With others present, she couldn’t say anything, but thought to herself: You think you’re so valuable? The coal mine foreman might even complain that you’re not strong enough, not rough enough, not tough enough.
Some people just don’t know themselves very well.
Jiang Lian’s method proved quite effective. After several positioning attempts and overlapping comparisons, the general location was determined. Road Three Bright instructed Pi Xiu to stay put: “We’re coming over now. Look around and see what the surroundings are like.”
There wasn’t much to see. Pi Xiu sent photos of all four directions, which looked like any other mountain area.
Meng Qianzi left half the team to set up camp and take care of Shen Gun, who couldn’t walk immediately. She led the other half, carrying essential equipment, following the path toward that location.
From the mountaintop view and the electronic map, the place didn’t seem far, but the actual journey proved grueling. Moreover, this area had experienced continuous heavy rain, making the ground muddy and slippery. By the time they finally joined Pi Xiu and his team, it was completely dark.
Everything was wet, making it impossible to light a bonfire. They could only use flashlights or exploration lamps, creating beams of light in all directions. Road Three Bright reminded everyone to avoid pointing lights skyward: if outsiders saw them, they might think someone was poaching or illegal logging, which would cause more trouble.
Jiang Lian walked around the area several times, repeatedly studying the map, and finally selected a small mound in a depression. The mound had a base diameter of one to two meters and protruded more than a meter above the ground. Nearby, there were several branching streams still flowing gently—one could imagine that now the water had receded, but when the water was higher, the depression would fill up, with the mound rising above the water surface, just like an eye socket. The branching streams also resembled the feather shape on a phoenix’s head.
Could the long-sought Phoenix Right Eye be this unremarkable little mound? And the saying “from the Phoenix Right Eye, a living phoenix will fly out”—could it mean that under this mound…
Shen Gun was watching the livestream from the other end. The night was too dark, and the screen was filled with noise, making it frustrating to watch. Seeing everyone still investigating, he grew increasingly impatient, grabbed the walkie-talkie, and issued commands: “Dig! Start digging! Let me tell you, there was a geographer in the Southern Song Dynasty named Zhou Bufeì who wrote a book called ‘Answers from Beyond the Mountains.’ Beyond the Mountains specifically refers to this area, and it even mentions the phoenix.”
“It says the phoenix builds its nest in deep forests. After laying eggs, the male phoenix uses wood branches mixed with peach gum to seal the female phoenix inside the nest, leaving only a small air hole. Then the male phoenix goes out to look for food. If it finds food, it returns to feed the female; if not, it seals the hole, causing the female to suffocate.”
Meng Qianzi had never heard of Zhou Bufeì or read “Answers from Beyond the Mountains.” Listening to this made her feel irritated, thinking: What kind of logic does this male phoenix have? If you can’t find food yourself, what right do you have to suffocate the female phoenix…
“Look at this mound, it’s like a grave mound. Maybe it’s a phoenix nest with its hole sealed. Perhaps the female phoenix suffocated, but the phoenix eggs are still there, continuously incubated by the earth’s energy. Once you start digging, they’ll come into contact with human energy from the outside world, catalyzing the hatching process. A living phoenix will fly out. That’s what’s meant by ‘from the Phoenix Right Eye, a living phoenix will fly out.'”
Meng Qianzi wanted to spit at him: Shen Gun had plenty of textbook theories and was good at citing classics, but these references only supplemented and were never the plain truth. If everything could be inferred from these classics, it would be too simple.
However, he was right about one thing: since this was the “Phoenix Right Eye,” they should break the earth and dig to see.
The walkie-talkie’s sound was quite loud, and everyone present heard it. The mountain dwellers already had a high tolerance for strange and unusual phenomena. Plus, that saying was a local proverb they had all heard about, so they weren’t particularly shocked—following the boss meant doing more and asking less, seeing things without surprise.
Moreover, Shen Gun had said a living phoenix would fly out of the mound!
Could everyone have the good fortune tonight to witness an actual phoenix?
There was suddenly whispering and discussion. Some people were too excited to approach Meng Qianzi directly, so they went to Road Three Bright with suggestions: “Brother Road, shouldn’t we prepare a cage or a rope net? In case a phoenix flies out, can we secure it first? It would be delightful to keep it ourselves, and even if we handed it over to the state, we’d be rewarded.”
Meng Qianzi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She coughed heavily twice, waiting for the whispers to subside, then gestured toward the mound: “Start digging.”
The Mountain Ghost equipment, also known as the “Mountain Ghost basket,” contained everything necessary and was a versatile tool for mountain expeditions. As soon as Meng Qianzi gave her approval, about ten mountain shovels were already assembled.
However, since the mound wasn’t large, there was no need for everyone to work. Seven or eight people surrounded it, swinging their shovels vigorously, while the rest couldn’t just stand by idly; some started preparing ropes and nets.
Just in case.
Meng Qianzi didn’t need to participate and stood watching from a distance. Jiang Lian was busier than her, having taken over the task of livestreaming for Shen Gun. Shen Gun was impatiently eager, wishing he could stretch his neck from one side of the screen to the other, constantly urging Jiang Lian to get closer so he could see more clearly.
The mound wasn’t entirely soil; if it had been, it would have been washed away by the frequent heavy rains of the rainy season. Indeed, before they had dug for long, the clinking sound of metal against stone was heard, and stones were continuously unearthed from the soil.
Meng Qianzi, growing bored with waiting, walked to a nearby rock, brushed off the sand and dirt, and was about to sit down when she suddenly heard a dull thud.
The shovel had hit something, but it was definitely not a stone, nor was it metal. It sounded more like…
Meng Qianzi felt a slight chill on her scalp and turned to look at the scene.
The mound had been dug away, leaving a shallow pit. The previously bustling “work” site instantly fell into an eerie silence. The mountain dwellers looked at each other, each harboring suspicions but reluctant to voice them.
Only Jiang Lian was unfamiliar with the situation. Seeing everyone standing still with some even retreating from the pit, he wondered and asked, “What’s wrong?”
At this critical moment, Road Three Bright remembered Meng Qianzi’s “teaching” again. As a leader, he should assess the situation, make prompt decisions, and provide guidance. He swallowed and said loudly, “We’ve come this far, so let’s continue digging. We won’t stop for one shovel. If we’ve truly dug wrong, we’ll apologize where apologies are due and burn incense where incense is needed.”
This made sense. After hesitating for a moment, several mountain dwellers resumed digging, but this time more cautiously, frequently bending down to brush away the soil with their hands.
Jiang Lian roughly understood what was happening.
Indeed, after a while, the situation became clear. The mountain dwellers stopped their shovels and awkwardly retreated. Pi Xiu, who was in the lead, looked at Meng Qianzi and reluctantly said, “Miss Meng, it’s a… coffin.”
Like the Water Ghost sect, the Mountain Ghost sect traditionally “respected the dead.” Even the greatest grudges were settled by death. When encountering nameless remains scattered in the mountains, they would help bury them. Digging up someone’s grave was forbidden. If accidentally discovered, they had to refill it in its original state, burn incense, and apologize for the offense.
Shen Gun couldn’t hear clearly at the other end but sensed something was wrong. His voice dropped eight octaves: “What happened? What’s going on?”
Jiang Lian turned off the walkie-talkie’s speaker and switched it to private mode, whispering, “We’ve hit a coffin. By the looks of it, we can’t dig anymore.”
Shen Gun was startled, growing anxious. When he spoke again, he stuttered slightly: “That won’t do. We’ve finally discovered the Phoenix Right Eye. If there’s a secret inside, and we stop digging… what does Miss Meng say?”
Just as he finished speaking, they heard Meng Qianzi say, “Bring the incense.”
Someone had already prepared it on the side. Upon hearing this, incense was distributed, and someone helped light it. Meng Qianzi took three sticks and stepped forward. Those who had been digging also came to take some, then lined up behind Meng Qianzi.
Meng Qianzi said in a clear voice, “Mountain Ghost throne-holder Meng Qianzi.”
After saying this, she paused briefly, and the others reported their names in sequence, some speaking loudly, others with anxious hearts and subdued voices.
After all names were reported, Meng Qianzi continued: “We have accidentally disturbed the elder’s home. With these three incense sticks, we apologize.”
After finishing, holding the incense, she bowed deeply three times, and the people behind her followed suit. Jiang Lian watched quietly, feeling that the curling incense smoke, mixed with the stationary diagonal beams of light, created an especially eerie yet mysterious atmosphere.
After completing the ritual, Meng Qianzi didn’t hurry to insert the incense: “Elder, this mountain has much rain, and your home is in a low-lying area, frequently flooded, damaging the coffin and bones—not a good burial site. Meeting today is our fate. I will help you choose a better spot and move your coffin to a new residence.”
Saying this, she knelt on one knee, inserted the three incense sticks into the ground, stood up, bowed once more, and then said, “Move the coffin. Continue digging.”