Chapter 2: The Convergence of the Three Primes

I softly responded with an "Oh."

It was my first time leaving home, and I was cautious. More importantly, the man before me didn’t look like a good person. I had read quite a bit about feng shui and fate, though mostly from street stall books, so I only knew the basics. Yet, this man’s sharp features and small, shifty eyes immediately gave him away—appearance reflects the heart, and people with such thievish eyes are either villains or thieves.

When I gave him a noncommittal "Oh" and ignored him, the man said, “Brother, aren’t you curious about what’s going on?”

“Curious, yes. Didn’t I just ask you? I feel like you don’t want to answer,” I replied.

“Well, why not press me? If you don’t ask, I’ll just be bursting to tell you, like struggling to finish in the middle of the restroom. It’s frustrating,” the man said in annoyance.

“Big brother, please tell me what’s going on,” I smiled, thinking his analogy was oddly amusing.

“It’s a trap set by the Thousand Gates, inviting you into the urn. That honest migrant worker, the old man at the start, that troublemaking young man, and several people at the auction just now—they’re all in cahoots. Doesn’t it feel off? If it were a play, how could they fool people if the act is seen through? Everyone’s after a bargain, each wanting to buy a treasure worth two hundred thousand for just a few thousand. Greed clouds the eyes when it strikes,” the man said with a world-weary gaze that pierced through the chaos.

“What’s the Thousand Gates?” I asked, curious.

“To put it nicely, it’s a sect from the underworld, venerating Fuxi as their ancestor. According to the Bagua directions, they are divided into the Thousand Gates Eight Generals: Zheng, Ti, Fan, Tuo, Feng, Huo, Chu, and Yao. There’s a saying: ‘The Thousand Gates generals are eight, but five of them don’t bloom.’ But honestly, their tactics aren’t from the top eight generals but probably from Zhuang, Liu, Tian, Feng, Zhong, Ma, Yan, and Kun. If I tried explaining it to you, it’d take me three days and nights to make it clear,” the man said.

“So, they’re just con artists, making it sound so grand,” I whispered.

“You’re partly right, partly wrong. The underworld has its own rules. At least those Thousand Gates folks aim to sell that fake Xuande censer and get off the stage once they have the money. They won’t steal because that would break their ancestor’s rules. The ones losing money have been swept by the Thief Sect. After the Thousand Gates finish their act and leave, the man and woman who walk past are from the Thief Sect,” the man explained.

“How did you figure it out?” I asked.

“The scam of the lower eight generals was easy for me to see through. These people revealed their wealth during the auction, attracting the attention of those two thieves. Before they acted, they mentioned the ‘Underworld Spring Code,’ which these people mistakenly took as a secret to exploit. When passing by us, the two thieves actually intended to lift your wallet too. If I hadn’t shown a trick to make it easy for them, the cash in your pocket would have vanished already,” the man said, staring at me.

His words made me recall the scar-faced couple, their strange gestures, and their baffling conversations.

Cold sweat instantly dripped down my back.

I quickly imitated the man’s gesture, clasping my fists in a salute. “Thanks.”

Seeing my gesture, the man snorted coldly. “Nonsense. Did you just make that gesture up? In the underworld, there are three treasures: gestures, the Spring Code, and the Tea Array. They’re secret codes for communication among underworld people. It’s fine if you don’t understand, but pretending you do and revealing a flaw can cost you your life!”

Startled, I hastily withdrew my hand and smiled awkwardly. “Ignorance is no crime. Do you know that man and woman?”

The man shook his head. “No. I made the gesture to show my identity and that I see through their intentions and methods. Underworld rules say to see through but not expose. I won’t ruin their plans, and naturally, they spared you.”

“Impressive,” I said sincerely.

Still, I instinctively covered my pocket. The man shot me a cold glance, and my face flushed red. He could see through the con artists and even command respect from thieves, yet I felt uneasy—like I was somehow disrespectful.

He didn’t press the issue. Instead, he glanced at the book I was reading. “Daojing Monk’s ‘Eyes to the Earth’?”

I nodded.

He asked, “Have you read Zhuge Liang’s ‘Horsefront Lessons’ or Wan Minying’s ‘Three Fates Compilation’?”

I shook my head. “I just skim through them.”

“That’s not something you can skim. Without a master’s guidance, it’s no wonder you don’t understand, and you might even make yourself crazy. Little brother, don’t think I’m after anything from you. I’m helping because of this ‘Eyes to the Earth’ book you have. Few young people are interested in such things nowadays. Also, your face looks very interesting,” the man said.

Though we had just met, I already regarded him as a master. Being told my face was interesting delighted me, and I couldn’t help but ask excitedly, “What’s interesting about my face?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Zhang Zhicheng,” I replied.

He calculated for a moment, then looked closely at my face and slowly said, “I won’t ask about your birth chart. You’re preparing to head south, right? To work?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

He frowned. “From your face, I vaguely see a sign of ‘Three Yuan Convergence.’ To truly understand, one must consider the birth chart, even the feng shui of your family’s ancestral grave. But the law isn’t sold cheaply, and the Dao isn’t lightly passed on. If I’m going to put this much effort into studying you, I can’t do it for free.”

I covered my pocket again.

Unfortunately, he noticed once more.

He rolled his eyes. “Though your pocket looks stuffed, if I’m not mistaken, it’s all worthless bills, no more than five hundred yuan total. That money is beneath my notice. If it weren’t for your ‘Three Yuan Convergence,’ I wouldn’t bother with you. Give me one yuan!”

Trembling, I took out a yuan and handed it over, feeling a pang of regret in my heart.

He took the money and said, “I’ll give you some pointers with this money. It won’t break the ancestor’s rules. Zhang Zhicheng, the south is full of water—mountains are veins, water is blood. Big rivers and streams gather strong energy; tiny streams don’t matter for the wind. If you get a turbulent flow like woven brocade, regardless of fate cycles, you’ll prosper. Your fortune lies in the south, your wealth in the underworld. Going south, you’ll succeed. But the water flows swiftly there. Since ancient times, the southern half of the river has had fast currents that can disrupt your ‘Three Yuan Convergence.’ After earning your first pot of gold, don’t linger. Remember: from south to north—‘The dragon hides in the abyss is a trap, the flying dragon in the sky is momentum.’”

With that, he pulled out an old, yellowed book from his pocket and handed it to me. It had no title, and the characters were handwritten, not printed—someone had written it with a ballpoint pen.

“Consider this a gift for our first meeting. My surname is Liu. ‘The green mountains remain as the waters flow long.’ In the underworld, strangers meeting and speaking superficially is taboo. We’ve talked over this one yuan; let’s consider it a good fate. If one day I fall on hard times and find you, and if you can, please offer me a meal,” he said.