The Dragon Ridge Tombs

by Tianxia Bachang

  He continued: “Five surveyors went to look at a Dragon Ridge cave and were never seen again. The townspeople say they must have gotten trapped in a ghost-wall—when spirits build an enclosure around you and you can’t get out. This was more than two years ago.”

  I thanked Mr. Liu profusely for his help. “We’d love to look at this Fish Bone Temple. It sounds really unusual. But don’t worry, we’ll just look at the fish skeleton—what reason would we have to go into the wilderness like that?”

  Mr. Liu got up and bid us good night. As soon as he returned to the kitchen, the three of us started making plans. Even if it turned out that this ancient tomb had been picked clean, we’d probably still be able to find some of its artifacts in the surrounding villages. In any case, this trip to Shaanxi wouldn’t be a wasted one.

  “This isn’t going to be like Wild Man Valley, is it?” Kai piped up anxiously. He was thinking back to the time I first took him gold hunting. “All that running around, not to mention we almost died—all for a couple of broken bits of stone that weren’t even real jade.”

  “I can’t promise you anything—we only just heard about this big tomb,” I told him. “Maybe this is a sign from fate that we’re about to have a hefty windfall. We’ll be able to pay Julie back everything we owe her. Wouldn’t you like that?”

  I told him and Gold Tooth my theory about the temple being a cover-up for reverse dipping, which got Gold Tooth excited. He’d always admired people in this line of work, but because he suffered terribly from spring fever and asthma, he’d never been able to go after treasure himself. As a result, he had to make do with the spoils from inferior grave robbers, who just dug anywhere and brought in any old junk. It was late summer now, so Gold Tooth’s allergies wouldn’t be a problem, and because he was with two reasonably experienced gold hunters, he might actually get to go on an expedition!

  Still, I warned that he should probably keep watch aboveground rather than following me and Kai, just in case anything went wrong.

  I’d been hoping for a big heist on this trip—and now this opportunity had fallen into our laps. We didn’t have a lot of tools with us, but our shovels would do for both digging and self-defense. Or our one shovel, since we only had Kai’s left—mine was now at the bottom of the Yellow River.

  The most important thing was illumination. We had three powerful flashlights, whose beams were so bright that if you shined it straight into someone or something’s eyes, they’d be temporarily blinded.

  The biggest problem was that we didn’t have proper gas masks, only simple ones. Gulan was unlikely to sell the real thing, and every gold hunter knows to beware of poisoned air. Never mind. I made a list of items for Kai to find. If he couldn’t get them around here, he’d have to find some other way to get his hands on them.

  We needed two large birds (I made sure to emphasize they should be alive, otherwise Kai would surely have turned up with a platter of roast goose), candles, ropes, gloves, and canned food. Maybe some chocolate. I said to also look into the post office for a map of the area.

  “What about rifles?” Kai asked. “I don’t feel as brave without one in my hand.”

  “There aren’t many wild animals around here,” I said. “You don’t need a rifle; just use your shovel to whack whatever turns up. Anyway, this may be all for nothing.”

  Gold Tooth nodded. “That’s right. This sort of limestone landscape is prone to earthquakes. Even if there really is a Tang grave, anything could have happened to it over the centuries. Let’s not get our hopes up.”

  I vaguely remembered that Shaanxi was known for having lots of undead corpses. What if we encountered a dumpling? This reminded me how close we’d come to dying on our last expedition—even though Gold Tooth had given us gold-hunting charms that were supposed to protect us.

  When I asked him about them, he smiled sheepishly. “Don’t be angry, Tianyi. Those charms might not have been exactly genuine, but I didn’t know that when I handed them over. Anyway, I’m sure there was a psychological advantage—you two had never seen the real thing, so you must have been filled with confidence. I’ll get you some proper ones, if I can.”

  I laughed. “We’ll count on you, then. You need charms to ward off evil when you go reverse dipping. Our black donkey hooves will help. But you’re right, if you don’t feel protected—well, not having confidence might be more dangerous than anything else.”

  Exhausted from the day, we fell asleep quickly and didn’t wake up till the next afternoon. While Kai and Gold Tooth went in search of supplies, I sought out Mr. Liu to press him for more information about Dragon Ridge. Disappointingly, he didn’t have much to add to what he’d said the night before. I tried a few other people, but it was all the same—there was a lot of talk about the hills in these parts, mostly legends and superstitions, without much useful information. The rumors of ghosts and evil spirits were enough to keep people away, so few villagers had spent much time there.

  After another day’s rest, we set off for Fish Bone Temple along the route laid out by Mr. Liu. Kai carried two geese in a bamboo cage on his back.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dragon Ridge was part of the larger Qin Mountain Range, a constellation of hills spread over a large area. Over the centuries, wind and rain had chopped these up, widening the gullies between the peaks and hollowing some out, leaving just a thin shell of earth that your foot would go right through. As a result, although some hills appeared close together, it often took more than half a day to get from one to the other.

  There wasn’t even any agreement about what the place was called. While the Gulan townspeople called it Dragon Ridge, nearby villagers preferred the name Coiled Snake Hill—a less majestic name, but a more accurate description of the landscape.

  At nine in the morning, the three of us left Gulan, taking buses where we could, and walking where there was no other way of getting through, asking everyone we met if they had any more information to share. It was dusk by the time we got to the small village at the foot of Dragon Ridge, a hamlet of just twenty families. Not wanting to risk falling into a gully in the dark, we decided to spend the night here.

  Choosing a house near the village gate, we knocked and explained that we were weary travelers in need of shelter, and asked the elderly couple if they could put us up for the night. We offered payment, of course.

  The homeowners looked dubiously at us. With our many bags and live geese in a cage, it wasn’t surprising that they wondered what we were up to.

  “Uncle, Auntie,” Kai said with respect. “We’re on our way to visit some old friends, but we got lost and can’t find an inn. We’re far from home, and there’s really nowhere else we can turn. If you’ll just give us a roof for the night, there’s twenty yuan in it for you.” Without waiting for them to say yes, he was already thrusting a banknote at them.

  Seeing that we didn’t seem like bad people, the couple agreed and started clearing out a room for us—one that looked as if it hadn’t been occupied for many years.

  Pointing at the buckets on a carrying pole in the yard, Kai said, “Tianyi, go get some water from the well.”

  “What for? Isn’t your water bottle still full?”

  “It’s something I learned from my dad. When he was in the army, whenever they were housed with a civilian, they’d make sure to fill the water tanks, then sweep out the yard and mend the roof if it needed mending.”

  “Do we really have to?” I grumbled. “I don’t know where the village well is, and I’ll probably get lost in the dark. Anyway, I need to stick around so I can ask them about the area. Don’t say too much—we don’t need to frighten them with your nonsense.”

  The old couple came in to say they’d fried us some eggs, which they served us along with thick buckwheat pancakes. I quickly thanked them. As we ate, I asked who this room had belonged to.

  Unexpectedly, they began weeping.
Once the husband had calmed down, he spoke. “Our only son once lived in this room, but ten years ago, he decided to go up Coiled Snake Hill in search of a missing goat and never returned. The villagers spent four days looking for him, but there was no sign of him. We had to accept that he had probably fallen through an earth crust, crashing to his death in the cavern below.”

  “Now we have no one to take care of us in our old age,” the wife cried. She sniffled and wiped tears away. “Our neighbors do what they can to help us.”

  Our hearts ached to hear their tale, and we gave them a little more money. The couple thanked us over and over, saying how happy they were to have met some good people.

  I asked a little more about the area, but the couple said there weren’t any ancient tombs in this district, though the older generation had spoken of a great mausoleum from the Western Zhou period. Apparently there had been lots of spooky incidents around there, with people encountering ghost-walls even in the daytime. Those unlucky enough to fall into such a trap would end up wandering at the bottom of the gully, where, if they were fortunate, they eventually ran into someone who helped them out. Otherwise they died.

  The ruins of Fish Bone Temple were still around but had been abandoned for decades. They were at the far end of a gully, two hills past the village. The merchant who’d paid for its construction said this was a good feng shui spot, and a temple here would surely win the Dragon King’s favor. When they were finished, though, nothing changed, and the sky still rained when it wanted to, rather than on demand, no matter how much incense was burned. After a while, everyone stopped bothering, and the temple fell into disuse.

  “When we were crossing the Yellow River,” I said, “our boat was almost overturned by the Dragon King. I’m curious to see these fish bones for myself.”

  The couple said it would be fine for us to see the temple, but to stay away from the rest of Coiled Snake Hill. Even people who’d been here all their lives got lost in its tangled roads, let alone strangers like us.

  I nodded in thanks. We’d finished eating by then, and started clearing our plates and chopsticks. Outside, Gold Tooth whispered, “Tianyi, look at that!” He was pointing at a rock in the center of the courtyard. “This stone tablet looks really old.”

  I said nothing but bobbed my head to show I’d understood. The old couple had gone off to bed, so we pretended to need fresh air and sneaked out to have a closer look at the artifact.

  If not for Gold Tooth’s sharp eyes, I would have walked right past the rock. The lozenge of stone had been severely damaged, with several deep gouges right down the middle, as if it had been used as a cattle post. Half of it appeared to be missing—even the carved animal head at what would have been the center was split down the middle. Any words had long been worn away, and this half head was the only thing that showed it was a stone tablet rather than any old rock.

  “You think this is worth something?” Kai asked dubiously. “Maybe long ago, but look at it now. All the carvings are gone. It’s practically the ghost of itself.”

  “I didn’t say it was worth anything,” said Gold Tooth. “It’s obviously not—a shame, but there you are. Don’t forget, though, that my family were reverse dippers too. Looking at this animal head, I can guarantee that there’s a Tang dynasty tomb in Dragon Ridge. As to where exactly it is, we’ll have to rely on Tianyi’s feng shui skills.”

  I touched the stone head. “You think this was a burial plaque?”

  “I’m pretty sure,” Gold Tooth said. “Even from this crumbling bit of a head, I can see what sort of creature it was—a celestial lynx. At the height of the Tang dynasty, they built all their tombs in the hills, with some sort of marker aboveground—a camel, lion, or other animal, carved out of stone. The idea was that these beasts would guard your eternal rest. The celestial lynx is said to be an animal from the Western Paradise, with a voice like a heavenly choir. This must have been a plaque that spoke to the virtues of the dead person. There’d have been one every li for eighteen li before the grave, and the celestial lynx would usually be the marker for the second li.”

  “Wow,” I marveled. “Gold Tooth, you might not know any feng shui, but with your grasp of history, you’re still leaving me far behind. Let’s go back to the room—we shouldn’t be discussing this in the open air.”

  We continued making our plans with renewed confidence. It seemed we’d definitely be rewarded for our trip. The only puzzling thing was, why were the locals talking about a Western Zhou tomb, when this was clearly a relic from the Tang dynasty?

  “Could there be more than one grave, on the same feng shui meridian?” Gold Tooth asked.

  “It’s possible,” I said, “but not every spot on the meridian is equally auspicious. There’ll be good and bad spots, and even the very best location is only big enough to hold a single tomb. Of course, two dynasties centuries apart might well have picked the same spot.”

  Time for bed. The next morning, we’d take a good look at Dragon Ridge or Coiled Snake Hill, whatever it was called. And maybe other homes in this village also had similar artifacts—we’d have to snoop into a few more houses on our way back.

  CHAPTER SIX

  First thing the next day, we packed our bags and set off. The old couple’s directions—go past two hills—had sounded simple, and while it wasn’t too much distance as the crow flies, we spent so much time going up and down that it was almost dark by the time we’d traveled that far. In the waning light, the land spread below us. The earth here was shot through with yellow, carved by the scalpel of the wind and the crisscross of gullies and canyons, some of the crevasses startlingly deep.

  These harsh surroundings were inhospitable to life, and there was no one else to be seen. The wind howled over the bleak hills, sounding like the anguished cries of a thousand ghosts. Dotted here and there were what looked like bottomless pits, pitch-black spots in the scarred landscape.

  We camped in the shelter of a rock outcropping and set off again the next morning.

  It was a three-hour walk before we managed to find Fish Bone Temple. And it was in even worse condition than I’d imagined. Knowing it had been abandoned for decades, I’d expected to find it looking run-down, but the structure seemed as if it might collapse at any moment.

  The temple consisted of just a single room, without the usual side chambers. The door was nowhere to be seen, though at least that made it easier to see that the entrance was indeed through the mouth of an iron-headed dragon whose bones we could clearly see holding up what was left of the place.

  Kai got out his shovel and struck one of the beams. It rang out clearly—they were still strong. Looking closely, we could tell these were no ordinary fish bones. Even without flesh on them, they were sinister, hideous. We’d never seen anything like this. It was different from a whale, or any type of fish. It was gigantic, so big we wanted to avert our eyes.

  Inside, the floor was covered in cobwebs, and the fish bones were no longer visible—they were hidden behind the tiles that covered the ceiling.

  The walls hadn’t crumbled away entirely, and we could still make out writing on one of them: “May the wind and rain be obedient.” A few rat nests occupied part of the room, and the creatures scurried away squeaking when we showed up.

  We didn’t dare spend too long inside—it seemed like a strong gust of wind could bring the whole place crashing down on top of us.

  Back outside, Gold Tooth told us there were a fair number of Dragon King temples in seafaring areas of China, but hardly any in the interior. The one in Tianjin had been built after a giant fish got washed up on shore and died there, in similar circumstances to the one in Gulan.

  Looking around the gully that the temple rested in, I chuckled. “If this is a good feng shui spot, I’ll go home and burn my copy of The Sixteen Mysteries of Yin-Yang Feng Shui,” I said.

  “What’s wrong with this place?” Kai
wanted to know. “Plenty of wind, listen to it! Ah, but you need water for it to be truly auspicious, don’t you? If only there were a brook or something.”

  “There are even more rules governing temples than there are for graves,” I said. “Temples are meant to bring good fortune—you can’t just plonk them down anywhere. Even the stars have to be in alignment. Have you seen a single other temple in a gully? Not even a lowly Earth God temple would be somewhere so deep. The rule is that the valley’s darkness has no heart to be pierced.”

  Kai looked puzzled. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that this isn’t a good spot for a temple. Look at these gullies, like snakes slithering along the ground, dwarfed by the hills around them. Absolutely no force to them. Besides, dark energy gathers around mountains and crevasses. If this were a verdant hill covered in trees, it might help mitigate things, because plants have a power of their own. But look at this barren, cracked place. Going by feng shui principles, you’d never build a temple here, much less bury a person. Now that I’ve seen it, I’m certain it’s the handiwork of a gold hunter covering up a reverse dip.”

  “But why make such a big production of it?” Kai said, shaking his head. “He could just have said he wanted to build a straw hut or something. Besides, no one ever comes up here, except maybe an occasional goatherd. The Dragon Ridge caverns over that ridge sound terrifying—no wonder the villagers stay away.”

  “He probably wanted to win the trust of the locals. Putting all that money into the temple was supposed to guarantee an end to droughts, so of course the villagers thought well of him. If he’d just shown up and started construction, they’d definitely have found his behavior strange. Why put a perfectly good building in a gully? And you know they’d have found out—even if no one ever passes this way, they seem to know everything that goes on. So why not say this is a good feng shui spot, and build a temple? That’s a proper scam.”