Chapter 77: The Geomancer, Ji Heng

“Careful, careful! Don’t disturb the old master!”
The family members in the funeral procession cried out in alarm.
Just as the pallbearer was about to fall, a hand reached out through the pouring rain and firmly seized the dragon pole.
The arm gripped the pole, emitting a taut creak.
Freed from the weight of the coffin, the pallbearer quickly regained his balance.
He exhaled deeply and looked up to find a stranger—a young man—holding the dragon pole with one hand, stabilizing the coffin.
“Thank you! Thank you!”
Steady once more, the pallbearer repeatedly expressed his gratitude.
Lin Qiu, the owner of the hand, nodded slightly. “Be careful! Don’t break the tradition.”
He lifted his arm, placing the dragon pole back onto the pallbearer’s shoulder.
The coffin settled again, and everyone breathed a long sigh of relief, instinctively wiping their foreheads.
Yet, they felt something odd.
The rain poured endlessly, but the ground beneath their feet didn’t seem as muddy as expected.
As soon as the rain hit the ground, an invisible force drew it away in all directions.
“Don’t waste time. Walk steadily!”
The geomancer spoke up, directing the procession onward.
Geomancers are common in rural areas, rarely seen in cities. They search for auspicious burial sites guided by the “Book of Burial,” continuing a tradition passed down for millennia. Whether noble or common, every funeral calls for their expertise in feng shui.
After locating the burial site, the direction and time are chosen for the interment.
Amidst the rain, the geomancer—an elderly figure in his seventies, face lined with wrinkles and clutching a compass—stood out.
As Lin Qiu and his companions approached, they frowned; a raw, earthy scent emanated from the geomancer.
These people were mutants, their senses heightened, able to detect what others could not.
Heize, whose true form was a dog, had the sharpest sense of smell.
He felt it most keenly.
“This old hand has been in the trade for at least fifty years,” Heize whispered.
Despite the deluge, the geomancer’s scent was undiminished, permeating his very bones and radiating outward.
Lin Qiu nodded slightly, gazing at the geomancer with a hint of respect.
Such work accumulated hidden virtue—a lifetime dedicated to service.

The geomancer sensed their attention and turned, his lips parting to reveal yellowed, blackened teeth, almost causing Heize to retch.
He nodded to them.
Had Lin Qiu not intervened, the coffin would have crashed to the ground, and the pallbearer might have been crushed.
Lin Qiu smiled at the geomancer and nodded back.
The funeral procession moved on, growing more distant, while the geomancer lagged behind a step, quietly asking, “Children, who are you and where are you from?”
“Good day, sir! We’re from the Wudu urban district. The Lei family village sent us an alert.”
“Oh!”
The geomancer softly exclaimed, “You’re patrol guards?”
Lin Qiu smiled and murmured assent.
“My, what capable youngsters! So young, yet already patrol guards—protecting home and country. The common folk are grateful to you all!”
His eyes shone with respect, tinged with a reddish hue, his voice trembling.
His reaction puzzled the group.
Even admiration shouldn’t bring someone to tears, should it?
“Forgive me for making a spectacle of myself!”
The geomancer blinked forcefully; no one could tell if he wept, as the rain streamed down his cheeks, masking all but the water.
“You’re too kind, sir!”
Lin Qiu quickly replied.
“Seeing you reminds me of my poor youngest son!”
The geomancer sighed, “He, too, was a patrol guard. But thirty years ago, after leaving home, he never returned.”
“I’ve waited here in this patch of earth for thirty years. Now I’m old, and I wonder if, when my time comes, anyone will see to my burial.”
“A lifetime spent searching for auspicious sites, but in old age, I may die alone, with no grave to call my own.”
His lament changed the expressions of Lin Qiu and his companions.
Lin Qiu looked at him, feeling a heavy sorrow.
The geomancer, about seventy, was born around the 1950s.
The older generation placed great value on ancestral rites, but his son, the heir, was missing—perhaps dead.
Such people are destined for loneliness in their twilight years.
If he were to fall ill, he might die at home unnoticed.
Lin Qiu’s compassion stirred. “Sir, may I ask your name?”
“What’s the use of titles? I’m Ji Heng, just an ordinary geomancer.”
Ji Heng grinned again, baring his teeth. “I was reminiscing just now—got a bit sentimental. Please don’t laugh at me.”

“Grandpa Ji, since your son was a patrol guard, we’re all part of the same system. He’s our predecessor.”
“You’ve waited so long for him—have you ever tried searching?”
“Of course I searched,” Grandpa Ji shook his head. “I went through all the patrol guard records in Wudu, but could never find a trace of him.”
Lin Qiu frowned.
That made no sense.
Patrol guards are documented; how could someone simply vanish?
How could a living person disappear without a trace?
“Grandpa, what’s your son’s name? We’ll look into it when we return and see if there’s any news.”
“Oh!”
Ji Heng exclaimed, his eyes brightening as he looked at Lin Qiu.
He was about to speak but restrained himself.
Still, he said excitedly, “Now that Old Master Lei’s funeral is nearly at its destination, let’s wait till the ceremony is over. Afterwards, come with me to my home and stay the night—would that be alright?”
“Yes, thank you, Grandpa!”
Lin Qiu and the others’ eyes lit up.
There were no inns in Lei family village.
They’d checked beforehand.
In this era, even patrol guards have difficulty finding a place to stay when visiting strangers.
It’s no longer a time of honesty and open doors; everyone lives cautiously, keeps to themselves, and rarely interacts with strangers. Yet, a single act of kindness was immediately repaid.
“Our ancestors truly were wise—they never deceived us!”
Lin Qiu mused inwardly.
The ancestors taught: “Every good deed is remembered, every kind heart deserves reward, every kind word should not be buried—words, hearts, and deeds of kindness.”
And now, the reward had come!
The funeral procession moved onward, pausing occasionally to bow as directed by the geomancer.
At five in the afternoon, the rain ceased.
They had arrived at their destination.