Chapter Forty-One: Moving the Graves

Three days later, in the early morning as the first rays of dawn appeared, a man and a woman sat across from each other atop two jade-green stones of differing sizes on the terrace in the courtyard of the manor outside Ren Family Town. The man wore a robe of black and white, neither quite Taoist nor entirely secular; the woman had her hair pinned up with a Taoist hairpin and dressed in a dark Taoist gown, resembling a female priestess.

Both faced east, hands forming ritual seals, their breaths deep and serene. When the sun finally rose above the horizon, a subtle glow appeared on the woman's face, and she slowly opened her eyes. With a gentle exhale, Li Yang began to awaken as well.

"Madam, has your cultivation been smooth lately?" Li Yang took three golden pellets, each the size of a pigeon egg, from his sleeve and fed them to the three exotic beasts at his feet. With a slight smile, he asked softly.

"In terms of cultivation, nothing has troubled me," Lady He replied with a hint of hesitation, gazing expectantly at Li Yang. "But lately, the manor has had little income. Living off our savings forever is no solution. I thought about it yesterday and would like to lease two shops in town—Gold Ling and I could manage them. What do you think?"

"There's no need to worry about money, Madam. I have it all under control. After all, I am the man of the house; providing for the family is my duty. How could I possibly let you go out and expose yourself to the world?" Standing up with assured confidence, Li Yang took Lady He's hand and gently led her down from the terrace.

Her body trembled slightly as he held her hand, feeling its warmth. Her cheeks flushed, but she did not pull away.

After breakfast, Li Yang set out with his three exotic beasts, planning to hunt for blood in the mountains. He had barely reached halfway when a grand procession approached from the opposite direction.

"Li, good morning! Off to the mountains so early?" It was Uncle Jiu and his disciples at the head of the procession, followed by a father and daughter seated in a sedan chair. Uncle Jiu smiled and greeted Li Yang.

"Good morning, Uncle Jiu! What brings you all out?" Li Yang asked, feigning curiosity though he sensed the purpose.

"You must be Master Li, who moved to town three years ago. A pleasure to meet you," the elderly gentleman in the sedan chair interjected, clasping his hands.

"Master Ren is too polite. I'm not a Taoist priest. If you don't mind, call me 'mystic' or simply Li Yang," Li Yang replied.

Master Ren paused, visibly embarrassed, while Miss Ren Tingting behind him regarded Li Yang with curiosity.

"My apologies, Li Yang," Master Ren said after regaining composure. "I'm merely a merchant and don't understand the distinctions. If I've offended, please forgive me."

Li Yang only smiled, indicating he took no offense.

"Today is the day Master Ren moves his family's ancestral grave. Would you care to join us?" Uncle Jiu invited.

"Since Uncle Jiu invites me, how could I decline?" Li Yang accepted, and the group proceeded toward the back hills.

"Is that the owner of the manor?" whispered Wen Cai and Qiu Sheng behind Uncle Jiu, huddling together.

"Is he really so impressive? Just another pretty face..." Qiu Sheng muttered, glancing at Li Yang’s sharp, fair, yet masculine profile with envy.

"You’re just jealous. Didn’t you see how Miss Ren looks at him? She’d cling to him if she could," Wen Cai rolled his eyes, equally envious.

"You say that, but you’re no different," Qiu Sheng grumbled, feeling his own presence overshadowed by Li Yang.

"You two, behave yourselves," Uncle Jiu glared at his disciples before turning to Li Yang with an awkward smile. Li Yang merely responded with a gentle smile, unconcerned.

"Uncle Jiu, a feng shui master once said this grave site was hard to find and very auspicious," Master Ren said, pointing to his father's tomb as they reached the back hill.

"Indeed. This tomb is called 'Dragonfly Touches Water.' The length is three zhang four chi, but only four chi are usable; the width is one zhang three chi, but only three chi are usable. Therefore, the coffin cannot be laid flat—it must be buried according to ritual," Uncle Jiu explained after surveying the surroundings.

"Incredible, Uncle Jiu!" Master Ren exclaimed, giving a thumbs up.

"Ritual burial? Master, what is ritual burial? Is it a French-style funeral?" Wen Cai asked, baffled as he stepped forward.

"Quiet!" Uncle Jiu hissed, annoyed, and then turned to Li Yang, clasping his hands. "Forgive my disciple’s ignorance."

"He is indeed somewhat ignorant. To have learned so little at the side of such a master, perhaps he’s not suited for cultivation," Li Yang replied frankly.

Though he knew this might embarrass Uncle Jiu, who was famously proud, Li Yang felt some truths must be spoken. He greatly respected Uncle Jiu, and didn’t wish for him to be let down by his disciples. In the original tale, these two bunglers caused Uncle Jiu no end of trouble. If Li Yang could warn him, he would; whether it helped or not was left to fate.

Uncle Jiu was taken aback by Li Yang’s blunt criticism and stood in silence for a while, mentally resolving to question Wen Cai later to see if he’d somehow offended this guest.

"Uncle Jiu, can we begin the excavation?" Master Ren asked, approaching.

"Yes, go ahead," Uncle Jiu gestured, setting aside his doubts and turning his attention to the tomb.

"Master, what exactly is ritual burial?" Qiu Sheng came forward, curiosity in his eyes.

"Ritual burial means burying the coffin upright. Remember this well—when you have nothing else to do, study my collection of texts," Uncle Jiu replied, his tone harsher now, feeling his disciples’ incompetence.

"Uncle Jiu knows his craft. That feng shui master once said, if the ancestor is buried upright, future generations will prosper!" Master Ren interjected.

"Did it work?" Uncle Jiu asked.

"Uh..." Master Ren smiled awkwardly, shaking his head with a heavy expression. "For twenty years, our Ren family business has only declined. I have no idea why."

"I suspect that feng shui master bore your family a grudge," Uncle Jiu said meaningfully.

"Did your father have any quarrel with him?" Uncle Jiu pressed, his gaze piercing.

"The land originally belonged to the feng shui master. My father knew it was a good site and bought it from him," Master Ren replied sheepishly.

"So it was only persuasion; was there any intimidation?" Uncle Jiu rolled his eyes at Master Ren’s awkwardness, certain. "I think there was intimidation! Otherwise, he wouldn’t have tricked you, having you pour cement over the site. Dragonfly Touches Water—if the coffin never touches water, how could it be called that?" He pointed at the emerging coffin, scolding Master Ren.

"He had some conscience, at least—he told you to exhume and relocate the coffin after twenty years, harming you for half your life instead of your whole life, one generation instead of eighteen!"

Uncle Jiu ignored Master Ren’s uncertain expression and turned to the coffin. "Everyone, today Wen Yong of the Ren family will see daylight again. Anyone aged thirty-six, twenty-two, thirty-five, or forty-eight, and those born in the year of the rooster or ox, must turn away and avoid the ceremony."