Chapter Twenty-Five: The Dragon Head Stele at the Feng Shui Nexus

After I returned home from my older brother’s place, Han Xue was still sleeping. Grandpa sat at the door, puffing on his old pipe, as always. My mother was already preparing breakfast. I asked her, “Mom, where did you and Grandpa go last night?”

She replied, “Your grandfather’s cough got bad, so I took him to Old Qiang to get some medicine.”

“Is he all right?” I asked.

“It’s nothing serious, just his old ailment,” she answered.

No sooner had she finished speaking than Grandpa started coughing again. I said to him, “Grandpa, maybe you should smoke less.”

He squinted at me with a smile and said, “I’ve lived long enough. If you don’t let me have my smoke, what’s the difference between that and being dead?”

I didn’t press the matter. After all, I’m not one to talk—I’m addicted to smoking myself. Besides, Grandpa’s reputation as an inveterate smoker was well known. He’d never changed, all these years. I turned to my mother and said, “I’ll go catch up on some sleep. Han Xue didn’t get any rest last night either. I’ve already had breakfast, just save her a portion later. Don’t worry about me.”

“You young people really ought to show some restraint,” my mother said, looking at me with a smile.

I knew ever since she found out I sometimes stayed overnight at school, her mind had started running wild. I didn’t bother to explain. I yawned and went into my room. The moment my eyes closed, I fell into a deep sleep. The first part of my sleep was dreamless, but later I had an exceptionally strange dream. I found myself living in a tiled house, also asleep. Suddenly, I woke to see a massive green snake hanging from the beam. It was enormous, as big as the pythons you see on television, its dull yellow eyes fixed on me, its forked tongue flicking menacingly. The sight was terrifying, yet the snake didn’t move—it simply watched me.

I awoke with a start and realized it had been a dream within a dream. I glanced up at the ceiling. We hadn’t lived in a tiled house for ages—now it was a flat-roofed home. Where would there be any beams?

After waking, my stomach rumbled loudly. I got up and called out, but no one answered. In my room, I saw Han Xue had made the bed neatly and left. Grandpa and my mother were gone as well. The sun was already high—it was nearly noon. I guessed they’d all gone out. I went to the kitchen to find something to eat, and had just taken a couple of bites when Han Xue called.

“Ye Zi, come quickly, the villagers are arguing with Fatty!” she said.

I had barely hung up when Zhao Qingshan called about the same thing. Tossing my steamed bun aside, I rushed to the school. When I arrived, a crowd had already gathered. I squeezed through and found Fatty standing alone, gripping a shovel, glaring at everyone. Chen Qingshan was talking to Third Grandpa and the others. The villagers were all talking at once, making it impossible to make sense of the commotion. I spotted Han Xue and asked, “What’s going on?”

“Fatty came over with a compass, saying there’s something unclean underground. He asked the village chief to get people to dig, and they unearthed something. As soon as it was out, Third Grandpa arrived. He said that’s the Feng Shui eye of the whole Fudi Valley. The Dragon Head Stele was planted by our ancestors. If it’s dug up, the earth’s energy will leak out and disaster will befall the entire village,” Han Xue explained.

Sure enough, at Fatty’s feet lay a stone stele with a dragon’s head carved vividly into it. But the dragon had no body, only the head attached to the stone.

“Third Grandpa really is getting senile—every day he’s warning the village will suffer disaster. Yesterday he said Fatty would stir up something from the water and bring us trouble, today digging up the Dragon Head Stele is disaster too. If we listened to him, we’d never do anything!” I muttered.

I respected Third Grandpa—he truly was a revered elder in the village. But yesterday’s events aside, it was clear today he’d come to interfere with Han Xue’s situation, and it irritated me.

Just then, Chen Qingshan beckoned me over. He pulled me aside and said to Third Grandpa, “Uncle, if you won’t believe me, you should trust Ye Zi. Ask him—he saw it with his own eyes. That fool keeps coming to the school to bother Teacher Han. With our village’s conditions, only someone as good as her would come here. If we drive her away, who’ll teach our children? All our kids will end up illiterate—now that’s true disaster!”

Clearly, Chen Qingshan had tried explaining to Third Grandpa for a long time, but he wouldn’t relent. So I said, “Third Grandpa, it’s true. I saw it myself.”

“That woman, the fool’s mother, isn’t in the Chen family genealogy. She’s not one of us. She died full of resentment and now she’s come to take revenge on the Chen family. If you touch the Dragon Head Stele our ancestors buried, the Chen family will perish! Ye Zi, you’re not a Chen, so you stay out of this,” Third Grandpa declared, leaning on his cane.

“Old sir,” Fatty chimed in, “I’m a Feng Shui specialist. I checked—the spot really is the village’s Feng Shui eye. Building a school here to let the children benefit from the energy is fine, but that stele should never have been buried here. I don’t know which charlatan tricked your ancestors into doing it. In my view, a well should be dug here so everyone can drink from it—then the land’s energy really benefits everyone. That’s the right way to use a Feng Shui eye.”

Third Grandpa jabbed his cane at Fatty, furious. “Where did this snot-nosed brat come from, daring to slander our ancestors? I said you can’t dig here, and that’s final!”

Fatty’s temper flared. “Old man, have some respect. Let me tell you, there’s a corpse buried under this Feng Shui eye. That means the land’s power is monopolized by one family. If I deal with it now, it’s fine. If not, that family will own it forever.”

“Nonsense! All you young rascals, get out of here! As long as I live, no one moves an inch of this place. Qingshan, make this fat brat leave! Chen family matters don’t need outsiders meddling!” Third Grandpa roared, driving away those who’d helped Fatty dig.

Truth be told, the villagers didn’t care much about this Feng Shui eye. If it were so powerful, would Fudi Valley still be the backwater where even passing geese lose feathers and mosquitoes go hungry? It was just that Third Grandpa’s authority was too great. If he said no, everyone supported him.

Even Chen Qingshan, the village chief, was powerless before such an esteemed elder. He sighed. “Forget it, Uncle, don’t be angry. We won’t dig anymore.”

Third Grandpa barked, “Second Boy, go get my chair. I’ll sit here and keep watch myself!”

I was really angry, but there was nothing I could do. Later, even my mother came to pull me away, telling me not to argue with Third Grandpa. We had no choice but to return to the village committee office for now. Fatty cursed and laughed, “What kind of village chief are you? Even an old man can point in your face and shout. I’ve really seen it all today.”

“Enough, Fatty,” I said. “Every village has its own rules. It’s not about fearing an old man—it’s about giving him face.”

Fatty stopped mocking Chen Qingshan and said, “That Chen Stone really knew how to pick a spot—he buried that dead child right on the Feng Shui eye. His family must be wealthy and powerful by now, right?”

Both Chen Qingshan and I burst out laughing. “You’re not often wrong, but this time you are. Chen Stone’s family is dirt poor—so poor they can barely afford food. Their house leaks when it rains outside and inside. Wealthy? Far from it,” Chen Qingshan replied.

Fatty was stunned. He looked at me and asked, “Is the chief telling the truth, brother?”

“Absolutely,” I said.

Fatty’s face grew grave. “That’s impossible. Fudi Valley has mountains to the south and the Luo River to the north—good Feng Shui. Bury someone on the Feng Shui eye and it should be a fine grave. It might not produce someone legendary, but at least the family should prosper. How could they be so poor?”

“Who can say with Feng Shui?” I laughed.

“If Fatty says it should be so, then it should be!” Fatty said, a little annoyed.

“If you don’t believe me, I’ll take you to see for yourself. They really are that poor,” I said.

“Then either that dead child isn’t Chen Stone’s, or there’s someone else buried down there. Otherwise, it’s impossible. I’m not joking!” Fatty insisted.