Dragon Vein Storyteller

Chapter 1 Mass Grave

Law-abiding citizens are filled with sorrow every day, while the tyrannical revel every night.

Those who harm others for personal gain ride horses and mules, while the honest and fair starve.

Those who repair bridges and roads are blind, while those who commit murder and arson have many children.

I went to the Western Paradise to ask Buddha, and Buddha said: I have no solution either!

Ladies and gentlemen, today I'm going to tell you a story from my youth, a story that concerns the dragon vein!

Think about this word carefully, is it a trivial matter?

Some might ask, "Master Wang, how did you, a storyteller, get involved with dragon veins? Isn't that completely unrelated?"

Hey, what are you saying? Well then, we'll have to go back and do some remodeling.

Back then, Emperor Chongzhen was on the verge of dying on Coal Hill, though he hadn't quite passed away yet. As for me, I was in my early twenties, struggling in Tianjin, at the foot of the Yangtze River. With my silver tongue, I never achieved any fame or fortune, not even enough to get a share of the dishwater; I nearly starved to death.

There was no other way! I, Wang Banxian, had to swallow my pride and follow Liao the Bald, Feng the Cripple, and a few others into the business of tomb raiding.

Just by the fact that we have such prominent accounts, you can tell we're not ordinary.

It's not like those self-proclaimed "tomb raiders" or "grave excavators" with their big tails.

After all these years, those mysterious methods are truly only known by name, never by actual practitioners.

The essence of a sect is its lineage and tradition.

Unlike some people who dare to call themselves captains just because they have a tomb raiding talisman.

Our Wang family ancestors had all served in the Imperial Observatory, possessing a rudimentary skill in observing celestial phenomena. We also had a family heirloom jade manual—we were of impeccable lineage. But back then, I had no idea that this jade manual would later prove so incredibly useful!

Needless to say, Feng the Cripple is a family heirloom tomb raider. His lameness is said to have been caused by a corpse demon while tomb raiding, but judging from the wound, it was probably bitten by a wild dog.

As for Baldy Liao, he was a master at digging; bald and hairless, he wasn't afraid of fire. There was another brother named Three Pounds; you could tell from his name that he could hold his liquor, but he was rarely sober, always seeming drunk. Little Chick was a boy we picked up on the road, only nine years old. In these chaotic times, if it weren't for us, he would have been a starving corpse by the roadside long ago. This boy was kind and clever, and considered our most trusted disciple, our future hope for grave robbing.

Alright, enough chit-chat, let's get back to the story. Our story can't start from when I wet the bed as a baby, and you don't like hearing about poop and pee anyway, so we have to start from the mass graves outside Xiling.

It was a dark and windy night, the wind howling like ghosts wailing. The shadows of the trees in the distance seemed to beckon, like countless wronged spirits beckoning. We held torches, their flickering light casting our faces in disarray, making them look like ghostly contortions. In this deathly silence, the "crack" of shovels digging into the earth sounded particularly jarring.

What are we digging for, you ask? Gold, silver, copper coins, ingots—we'll eat anything we can find. In these chaotic times of war, the timid starve, and the bold feast.

We can't tackle the big tombs, and we can't even touch the small ones. If we dig up the ancestral graves of wealthy families, we'll be kicked to death if we get caught. So, we have no choice but to come to these mass graves to look for something to chew on.

Don't underestimate this place; it's just as intriguing as a tomb! The resentment of those who died violently, unjustly, whose bodies were left unclaimed, and even those hacked to pieces like sheep scorpions, gathers together and is sometimes more malevolent than a rice dumpling.

Not far away, the little chick was digging a large pit. He carefully moved the corpses, wrapped in straw mats and with rotten coffin lids, into it one by one. Although it was a bit crowded, at least they were laid to rest and spared from being gnawed by wild dogs.

This child is kind and righteous.

Watching his small figure bustling about in the night, I felt a pang of sadness. In this chaotic world, even a child has to learn to deal with the dead.

As I was lost in thought, I saw Baldy Liao sneakily approach the chick from behind. The old man somehow found a feather from an unknown bird, secretly touched the back of the chick's neck, gently stroked it, and even deliberately blew a breath of cold air on it.

The little chick froze, shrank its neck, and stammered, "Half...half-immortal?" I squatted down beside it, pretending not to hear, but secretly I was overjoyed. This bald Liao, at his age, still loves to play tricks on people.

Liao the Bald grinned wickedly and flicked him with a feather again.

The little chick immediately broke out in a cold sweat, crying out in a trembling voice, "Master Wang! Master Wang! You damn Master Wang! Something touched me several times!"

He cursed as he grabbed my hand, his eyes practically rolling back in his head. I stared at him, mouth agape, completely bewildered, but kept quiet, trying so hard not to laugh until my stomach ached.

This startled him so much that tears streamed down his face.

I then grabbed his hand with a serious expression, pinched his thumb and forefinger hard, and said urgently, "Oh no! You've been possessed by something dirty! Quick, curl your big toe up and grip the ground with all your other toes to draw some earth energy into your body!"

The little chick dared not hesitate. In just five breaths, it let out a miserable cry and fell to the ground in pain, rolling around with its hands around its legs.

"Little chick! What's wrong with you?" I pretended to be surprised, but inside I was laughing so hard I was practically convulsing.

"Is he possessed by a ghost? Look how much pain he's in." Baldy Liao stifled a laugh, his shoulders shaking like a leaf.

"What are you two arguing about again?" Crippled Feng poked his head out of a broken coffin and asked irritably. His leg always ached on rainy days, and with the wind blowing tonight, it probably wouldn't feel good either.

"The little chick is lacking yang energy, so I'll teach him to replenish it." I said this nonsense with a straight face.

"You're fucking lacking yang energy, but he's not..." Crippled Feng pointed at my nose and launched into a tirade of curses. But as he cursed, his face suddenly darkened, and he muttered, "Something's not right. There's a rusty smell in the wind today..."

Hey, we're just trying to lighten the mood and ease the tension. This tomb raiding business involves dealing with the dead and darkness every day; the mental pressure is immense. Without some fun, everyone gets sick. You really don't appreciate my good intentions.

Just as we were about to pack up and head down the mountain, whether it was the worst luck we'd ever had or karma at work, we turned a corner and a flash of light appeared before our eyes. A group of men in black armor silently surrounded us and captured us instantly.

These days, those who can afford to wear armor are people you can't afford to mess with! No matter which side their soldiers are on, they are the most powerful figures in the world to us ordinary folks.

They were all expressionless, their eyes cold, and the knives in their hands gleamed coldly in the firelight. We tomb raiders, who were usually quite worldly, huddled together like quails, not daring to breathe.

Without a word, they strung the five of us together with some other unfortunate fellows on a thick rope, like grasshoppers, and led us into the deep mountains and forests! The mountain road was rugged, and the night wind was biting. My heart skipped a beat, and I knew something was wrong.

This group of people is no ordinary people, and we few thieves who dig up ancestral graves have probably run into a jinx we shouldn't have encountered.

It was this group of people who completely rewrote our lives, and I was fortunate enough to witness what a true dragon vein is!