SES Chapter 75 Part 2

She cursed herself for being lazy. Why didn’t I just scrape bark and carve marks into the trees?

She took the lead in frustration. Yan Hongsha, supporting Old Man Yan, was completely silent—the total opposite of her complaining self from yesterday.

When they stopped for lunch, Mu Dai started a conversation. “Grandpa, you know this area well, huh?”

Old Man Yan nodded. “Been here before.”

“Do all the households here have Saoqingniang dolls?”

Old Man Yan frowned. “What’s a Saoqingniang?”

Mu Dai gestured, describing the doll. She’d barely started when the old man understood. “Oh, that thing.”

He was in good spirits and explained—locals here didn’t originally have Saoqingniang. It was something brought in by the Han people. Yes, there were Han people deep in these mountains, and they’d been here a long time—supposedly since the late Ming or early Qing. It seemed one of them had even been a high-ranking official, maybe even related to the imperial family. To escape the invading Qing army, they fled here deep into the mountains.

But many people couldn’t get used to living there and gradually moved away. In the end, only about a dozen households remained deep in the mountains, forming their own little village—not far from where they’d stayed the night before, just a matter of crossing one or two mountains.

Maybe it was because the mountains got so much rain, but every Han household there had a Saoqingniang doll. Sometimes they made them from paper cutouts, other times they wrapped them with cloth, and hung them under the eaves for long-term use.

Mu Dai asked, “What if someone throws the Saoqingniang into the water?”

Old Man Yan said, “That’s a taboo. Sure, too much rain isn’t good—but if you sweep away the water you drink and cook with, how are you supposed to live? If a child in the village accidentally drops a Saoqingniang into the water jar, they’ll get scolded.”

True enough—everything has to be kept in balance. Too much water and no water at all are equally troublesome.

Mu Dai turned to look at Yan Hongsha. Strange—last night she had been so eager to check out that Saoqingniang, yet now, when Mu Dai and Old Man Yan were discussing it, she didn’t care at all. She just sat off to the side, head lowered, lost in thought.

What’s wrong with her? Could it have something to do with whatever Old Man Yan told her this morning?

Mu Dai wanted to ask, but since Old Man Yan was sitting right there, she held her tongue.

After they finished their dry rations, they kept moving. About an hour or two later, Old Man Yan suddenly stopped, a hint of excitement in his voice. “We’re here.”

Finally? Mu Dai let out a long sigh of relief—but then frowned.

This was just the most ordinary patch of mountain forest: fallen leaves everywhere, broken branches, churned-up mud, toppled trees. The same scenery they’d been seeing for hours—nothing at all to set this spot apart.

How could Old Man Yan be so sure?

Oh, right—treasure aura.

Old Man Yan didn’t navigate by directions or landmarks. He recognized places by the treasure aura.

Mu Dai glanced around curiously. So what exactly is treasure aura? Does it have a color, a shape, a smell? People always said Old Man Yan was half-blind, yet here she was, with perfect eyesight, eyes wide as saucers—and she couldn’t see a thing, not even in the air.

Old Man Yan took a few steps forward and stomped his right foot. “Right here.”

Here? But wasn’t this supposed to be a treasure well? Shouldn’t a treasure well have a natural opening—like a water well—going straight down?

Yan Hongsha dragged over the shovel.

Old Man Yan said, “Here. Start digging.”

Then he added, “Mu Dai, get up high and keep watch. Pay attention to anything unusual. Maybe we’ll have to work through the night.”

Mu Dai said, “Got it.”

She was starting to get the picture—and was a little annoyed at the old man. If you knew we’d be digging, why not hire two strong men to help? Poor Hongsha, having to dig like this… how long will this take?

Her own job—keeping watch—was a whole lot easier.

Mu Dai nimbly climbed up a tree, leaned against a thick branch, and took out her small handheld telescope, slowly scanning in every direction.

But really, all she saw were trees.

Big trees, small trees, crooked trees, trees with dense leaves, trees with sparse leaves, ocher-yellow trees—

Ocher-yellow trees?

Her heart skipped a beat. She quickly swung the telescope back to where she’d just seen it.

There, the leaves and branches swayed gently, looking perfectly ordinary.

But Mu Dai’s pulse quickened.

She was sure she’d seen an ocher-yellow patch earlier. She hadn’t paid much attention at the time, just glimpsed it in passing—but now that she thought about it, it looked like… animal fur?

An animal up in the trees? A monkey? Or maybe that “wild man” Zhazhama once mentioned?

Mu Dai decided not to take any chances. She sat cross-legged, took a deep breath, and settled her mind the way she had when training—letting go of distractions, focusing all her senses on listening.

Her teacher always said—what you see can deceive you; it’s better to trust what you hear.

The wind. The rustle of leaves. The scrape of a shovel biting into earth. Old Man Yan’s heavy breathing…

Clang.

Mu Dai opened her eyes to see Yan Hongsha throwing down the shovel in frustration, shouting, “I can’t!”

Old Man Yan barked, “Pick it up!”

Yan Hongsha froze, on the verge of tears. His face went dark. Mu Dai didn’t know what to do and quickly climbed down.

Caught between the two, she felt awkward. She picked up the shovel and said, “Hongsha, are you tired? I can dig for a while—you go keep watch in the tree.”

Yan Hongsha said, “No, Mu Dai—you don’t understand. There’s a dead body down there!”

A dead body.

That morning, when Old Man Yan had sent Mu Dai away, this was what he’d told her:

He’d said, That’s a treasure well. I can tell—it’s the best kind, with treasure aura so thick it’s like mist. The moment I laid eyes on it, I knew it was a great find. Couldn’t let anyone else in on it. I’d save it for when I retire.

But I’m not the only one who hunts treasure. That place is remote, sure—but you never know when someone else might find it.

So I had to hide it.

How? Well, in the treasure-hunting trade, there’s an old method—you use human blood and qi to suppress the treasure aura. Treasure aura is pure, but once you press it down with blood qi, no other treasure hunter can see it anymore. Only you can. Later, when you come back, you’re not looking for the aura itself—you’re following the slow, steady trace of blood qi that rises from underground, mingling with the treasure aura… forever.