Chapter 81: Seeking the Treasure Site in the Capital City

Li Dongyang understood what the vitality mentioned by Liaochen meant, but remained silent. Having calmed down, he began to consider matters more deeply.

"The Daoist is destined for longevity and roams beyond the secular world. To you, all worldly affairs are merely fleeting smoke. Why are you so concerned about the Great Ming?" Li Dongyang asked.

"Though our kind attain spiritual freedom, our Daoist orthodoxy remains in the mortal realm. If the skin is gone, to what can the hair attach?" Liaochen replied.

"Orthodoxy indeed!" Li Dongyang let out a long sigh. Dynasties could change; even cutting one's hair and adopting alien garb to turn Xia into Yi meant little to certain scholars. Throughout history, had there been few who served foreign conquerors?

Although Confucianism had the "Distinction between Hua and Yi," few ever brought it up. Instead, the theory of the "Cycle of Five Virtues" held sway. Why? Because while Heaven remains unchanged, the Dao also remains unchanged. As long as the emperors on the throne continued to revere Confucius and Mencius, the Dao of the scholars endured. As long as Confucius and Mencius endured, the interests of the scholars could be sustained indefinitely.

Family, state, and all under heaven—viewed from another perspective, wasn't family placed before the state?

"The Daoist once said that Confucianism will no longer have a foothold. Is that true?" Mentioning orthodoxy naturally made Li Dongyang think of Confucianism.

"The Song and Ming dynasties ruled the world together with the scholar-bureaucrats, yet both lost the realm. If the lands of Xia are restored, will they still rule the world together with the scholar-bureaucrats?" Liaochen asked with a smile.

"That was due to the incompetence of military generals and the cowardice of official troops; what has it to do with the teachings of Confucius and Mencius? Could it be that the generals and soldiers also studied Confucius and Mencius?" Li Dongyang asked with a trace of irritation.

"Sharing the governance of the realm with the scholar-bureaucrats, when the realm fell into chaos and the Central Plains sank into darkness, can the scholar-bureaucrats, serving as the pillars of the realm, truly absolve themselves of blame?" Liaochen's words struck Li Dongyang's heart like hammer blows, and he asked unsparingly in return.

Li Dongyang set down his teacup, and his expression instantly turned gloomy. If not for the visions he had seen being too real... if not for...

"Where lies the vitality?" Li Dongyang asked listlessly.

"The distinction between Hua and Yi, and the spirit of the Han and Tang dynasties. The future of Great Ming lies abroad, not within," Liaochen replied.

"Does the Daoist regard that Hall of Eternal Loyalty and Martyrdom as another Lingyan Pavilion?" Li Dongyang asked.

"Though the Lingyan Pavilion is renowned through the ages, it belongs merely to monarchs and nobles. As time passes, it amounts to nothing more than a handful of dust. The Hall of Eternal Loyalty and Martyrdom opens its doors to the common people; as long as the sacred fire of China is never extinguished, this hall will never perish," Liaochen replied.

"Ah!" Li Dongyang was shaken with awe.

Liaochen was elevating the "Hall of Eternal Loyalty and Martyrdom" to such an infinite height that it transcended dynastic changes, demanding that as long as there was a Chinese dynasty, they must revere its status!

"The great affairs of a state lie in warfare and sacrifices. The rituals of sacrifice are recorded in the classics and canons. Could it be that the Daoist intends to treat it as a state rite, akin to the Fengchan ceremony on Mount Tai?" Li Dongyang asked.

"Indeed!" Liaochen nodded.

Li Dongyang shook his head and said, "How immensely difficult!"

Liaochen smiled and said, "This poor Daoist has his own ways!"

Li Dongyang asked, "Coming to my residence in the middle of the night is also one of your ways?"

"Indeed!" Liaochen nodded.

"Does the Daoist know that the national treasury is empty, and every coin of the annual expenditure has its designated use? The weight of a national shrine entails colossal construction and extravagant expenses. I fear it will not be easy," Li Dongyang said.

"This poor Daoist is well aware of the treasury's inadequacy, but I shall forge affinity with people across the realm. As for the construction costs, Grand Preceptor, you may rest assured," Liaochen said with absolute confidence.

"Ugh!" Li Dongyang was left speechless. Given Daoist Liaochen's status, matters of wealth were likely truly trivial to him. The moment Liaochen made a request, the threshold of those offering money would probably be trampled flat.

"Since the burden of construction is resolved, is Grand Secretary Li willing to let this pass?" Liaochen looked at the sky outside and asked directly.

Li Dongyang pondered for a moment, desperately wanting to tell Liaochen that the real problem did not lie there, but ultimately could not bring himself to say it. How could the selfish motives of civil officials be exposed to an outsider? Even if the other party was merely feigning ignorance, it was preferable to speaking the truth aloud.

"Alas! Since it has come to this, this old man is naturally willing to let it pass. However, today's incident at the palace gates arose entirely because of this matter. I must ask the Daoist to persuade His Majesty to release all the officials and allow them to return as soon as possible. Can this be done?" Li Dongyang directly proposed his condition. This was both an exchange and a commitment. To propose no conditions at all would have been a genuine refusal.

"This poor Daoist will naturally do his utmost," Liaochen nodded. "The hour is late, and it is not fitting for this poor Daoist to disturb the Grand Preceptor's rest any longer. I take my leave!" Liaochen cupped his hands in a Daoist salute to bid farewell.

Li Dongyang cupped his hands in return and said, "Safe journey, Daoist."

Liaochen turned around and, without waiting for a servant from the Li estate to guide him, took a few strides and vanished into the night.

"Sir, has that Daoist left?" Shortly after, the elderly steward came to check on the situation, only to find Li Dongyang sitting alone in a daze on his chair, frowning in deep thought.

"He has left," Li Dongyang replied with a strange expression.

"Ah!" The elderly steward exclaimed in astonishment, "But this old servant was guarding the front gate and never saw that Daoist walk out!"

"Outrageous! This fellow is truly so devoid of etiquette! Does he really think the entire capital is a place he can enter and leave at will?" Without even thinking, Li Dongyang knew how Liaochen had departed. This was an extremely impolite behavior. Instead of using the front gate, he made a habit of leaping over walls and flying through the skies—what was the meaning of this?

"Forget it, let him be!" Li Dongyang sighed. Come to think of it, there truly was nothing in this world that could stop that person.

"Today's events must not be spread. Within the Li estate, anyone who dares to leak this outside will be dealt with by the steward himself," Li Dongyang instructed.

Emerging from the Li estate in the dead of night, Liaochen suddenly found he had nowhere to go. Surely he could not break into the imperial palace at this hour?

Liaochen simply stepped onto the clouds and began to overlook the topography and terrain of the capital. To build a shrine for all eternity, one naturally had to find a supreme location. Feng shui and geomancy required observing the geography, matching celestial phenomena above and responding to earth veins below. To endure for ages, it had to be blessed by unending, everlasting fortune.

Yet the capital of the Great Ming was an ancient city of a thousand years. All the prime locations had long since been occupied; finding a true geomantic treasure trove was immensely difficult. Following the meandering veins of the mountains with his luopan compass, Liaochen drifted back and forth above the clouds for a long time, yet gained nothing.

It was not that geomantic sites did not exist, but Liaochen's standards were too high, and the location could not be too far from the capital. Otherwise, it would consume too much time and effort for the emperor and officials to travel there for sacrifices, greatly diminishing its impact and rendering it insufficient to serve as a state shrine.

Liaochen locked his target within a radius of ninety li around the capital, a distance known as "three stages," which happened to be a day's journey.

Beijing sat in the northern part of the North China Plain, located at the intersection of plains and mountainous terrain and serving as a vital transportation hub. To its west lay the Taihang Mountain range, guarded by the Western Hills; to the north, the Taihang and Jundu mountains formed a semi-circular mountain bay; and to the northeast lay the natural barrier formed by the renowned northern dragon vein, the Yanshan Mountains. Beijing leaned against hazardous mountains to the north and controlled the plains to the south, situated squarely between the Beijing Plain, the vast southern plains, and the northern mountains.

From a singular perspective, Beijing's feng shui was inferior to Nanjing's. After all, Nanjing was guarded by the Four Auspices, with imperial energy rising. Yet the Qinhuai River flowed straight through it, causing Nanjing's imperial energy to condense without gathering; thus, dynasties that made it their capital rarely lasted a century.

As for the mountain ranges near Beijing, they all originated from the Yunmeng Mountains, with the Yellow River winding before them, Mount Tai rising to the left like a dragon, Mount Huashan rising to the right like a tiger, Mount Song serving as the front desk, the mountains south of the Huai River serving as the second desk, and the Five Ridges of the south serving as the third desk—what was known as having no wind to disperse the energy and having water to bound it.

During the Yuan dynasty, there was already this commentary: "The region of Youyan is like a coiling dragon and a crouching tiger, with majestic terrain. Controlling the Huai River to the south, connecting to the northern deserts to the north, encircled by the Canghai Sea to the east, embracing the Taihang Mountains to the west, pillowing Juyongguan to the north, and clasping the He and Ji rivers to the south, its strategic advantage is supreme under heaven."

By the Ming dynasty, when the Yongle Emperor moved the capital here, he naturally took these considerations into account. Otherwise, the site of the capital concerned the dynasty's fortunes; no matter how deep the Yongle Emperor's affection for Beiping was, he would not dare to make a mockery of the Zhu family's realm.

Yet feng shui had scales, both large and small. Viewed broadly, Beijing's feng shui was extraordinary—a place fit for monarchs. Viewed narrowly, however, Beijing was a difficult place to find a true geomantic treasure spot. The only slightly decent one was where the imperial tombs were located, and no matter how powerful Liaochen was, he would never dare to touch that place!

"Alas!" Liaochen sighed atop the clouds, putting away his compass. He casually descended upon a mountain peak that looked somewhat decent, and muttered to himself with a sigh, "It seems I will have to move mountains, channel waters, and draw earth veins through the clouds once more. Why is building a mere shrine so difficult?"