Chapter 48: Ghost Mountain

It was two days later when I finally got another call from Hou Jinshan. The bastard had just gotten off the train at nine in the morning and was already sitting in the private room I’d reserved, waiting for me. I’m not a morning person, so I basically just splashed some water on my face and stumbled out the door half-asleep.

I was in a foul mood, and even my footsteps carried a stormy air.

Xiao Wu had handled things well. He’d booked a room near the stairs, where there was a steady flow of people. Sure, the underworld was full of shady types, but Hou Jinshan only dared to throw his weight around within the industry. Out in the open, with the kind of things he’d done, he had no choice but to keep his head down.

I brought a few of the shop’s guys with me into the room. The moment we stepped inside, it felt like a veil had dropped over my eyes—the place was so thick with smoke it was like we’d wandered into some immortal’s realm. They were smoking like their lives depended on it. I was amazed they hadn’t all dropped dead from it.

I motioned for Xiao Wu to open the windows. Once both sides were aired out, the air cleared up a bit. Then the waiters came in with the food. Before long, the table was covered with dishes. Only after they’d all left did Hou Jinshan finally speak.

“Gan Ji, if you’ve got something to say, just say it. No need for all this pomp and ceremony. Your grandfather was never this flashy.”

The moment he brought up my grandfather, I lost it. I slammed my chopsticks down and snapped, “Don’t you fucking mention my grandfather. A sneaky rat like you doesn’t get to talk about him.”

The thug behind Hou Jinshan immediately stood up, but Xiao Wu and our guys didn’t back down either. Hou Jinshan, however, quickly tried to smooth things over. He chuckled awkwardly, “No need to get worked up. Everyone calm down. I’m here to talk business today, not to fight.”

Before we came, Xiao Wu had warned me: if Hou Jinshan said anything out of line, don’t hold back. Guys like him, seasoned scumbags in the business, loved to push boundaries. But the moment he stepped into Huai River, he was on Fourth Brother’s turf. That meant he couldn’t act tough.

Xiao Wu knew more than I did. He was certain Hou Jinshan wouldn’t dare step out of line. When I asked how he could be so sure, he explained.

My grandfather had never been one to build up power, but he had connections. My Fourth Brother was a real operator, and thanks to those connections, he rose fast. Starting with his generation, the Gan Family stopped staying in the shadows. Now, he held a high position among the Five Masters and was known for being fiercely protective and not easy to mess with.

On top of that, Xiao Wu told me that the incident with Lu A’yao settling the shop-smashing matter had already spread throughout the industry. Meaning, even if I weren’t a Gan Family junior, just having Yin Pozi’s backing right now made me untouchable.

No wonder Hou Jinshan’s attitude toward me today was completely different.

Xiao Wu handed me a new pair of chopsticks. I started picking at the food as I said, “Let’s talk. That deal of yours—is it really that important? You were doing just fine in Gansu. Why suddenly round up so many people?”

Hou Jinshan grinned. “You’re interested in my business now?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, not interested. But I have my own reasons for digging into this. You talk, and don’t try fishing for info from me—I won’t give you a single word.”

“You little punk, is that how your elders taught you to speak to your seniors?”

I picked up some greens without even looking at him. “You’d better think carefully before you speak. Let’s get one thing straight—I’m not the one begging you for help. I’m still being polite now, but if you piss me off, I won’t bother with niceties. I’m young, I don’t do pleasantries, and I sure as hell won’t save your face. And don’t forget—the Nine-Ring Jade Casket is still in my hands. Or did you forget that?”

Hou Jinshan’s grip on his chopsticks tightened until they creaked. After a long sigh, he waved for his thugs to leave. After what happened last time, I was starting to suspect the shop guys weren’t entirely trustworthy either, so I waved them out too.

Hou Jinshan moved from across the table to sit beside me. I wasn’t worried—if it came to a fight, I’m six feet tall and still young. I wouldn’t lose to some crusty old man.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said. “This thing goes deep. Just give me the casket, and we’ll never see each other again. You stay in your lane, I stay in mine. Why insist on getting involved?”

I could tell he was stalling, so I stood up like I was about to leave.

“If you’re not talking, then we’ve got nothing to discuss.”

He grabbed my arm. “Whoa, whoa, take it easy! Let’s talk it out. Why are young people always in such a rush? Fine, tell me—what do you want to know?”

I had no intention of asking about the 1951 project—that would’ve been too obvious. A guy like Hou Jinshan was sharp. The moment he figured out what I was really after—especially if he was the only one who knew the truth—he’d turn on me in a heartbeat, maybe even use it to blackmail me for the casket.

I couldn’t afford to lose the upper hand.

So I said, “You gathered all these skilled people—where are you going, and what are you planning? I want the whole story.”

Seeing how stubborn I was, Hou Jinshan took a moment to organize his thoughts, then shook his head. “It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing. I’ve been preparing for this deal for over a year. It all started with a partial image I came across by chance in Gansu.”

He pulled out his phone and showed me a few photos. They were blurry and dimly lit—clearly not taken through any legitimate means. There were five partial images in total, but only two were clear enough to make out.

I could see in those two that they depicted a short, plump woman carrying a child on her back, stepping forward. The brushwork was bold, the posture exaggerated. Her hand gestures had a religious feel to them.

If He Yu were here, this old bastard wouldn’t be able to fool me. But he wasn’t, so I had to stay sharp.

“A partial image like this—what does it prove?” I asked.

Hou Jinshan snatched the chopsticks from my hand, forcing me to focus. Then he said, “Don’t play dumb. Anyone who knows their stuff can tell—that’s a section of the legendary Nieyao Ghost Market Map, showing the Ghost Father and Ghost Mother!”

But I didn’t react. He looked at me, clearly frustrated.

“I’m not well-versed in paintings,” I said. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

Hou Jinshan straightened his clothes and gave me a helpless look. “Remember what I told you on the train? That the emperor who married nine wives had his fiefdom on the legendary Nieyao Divine Mountain?”

He’d rambled a lot that night on the train, but I remembered that part clearly. He said he’d been secretly taken to a valley by soldiers to help translate some documents. From the murals and texts, they concluded that a Chu emperor and his descendants had settled on a mountain called Nieyao, where they began to multiply—and he’d married nine women.

Seeing that I remembered, Hou Jinshan continued, “These photos are from a small section of the Nieyao Ghost Market Map. They’re authentic. I bought them for a high price when they surfaced on the market. Ever since, I couldn’t stop thinking about that casket in your hands. I dug through all kinds of folk tales and old supernatural stories, and I actually found something.

“Legend has it that after the emperor and his nine wives ascended, Nieyao Divine Mountain became a ‘ghost mountain.’ During the day, it’s cold and eerie. But at night, it lights up with lanterns, drums, and gongs—like a bustling marketplace. The more I read, the more convinced I became.”

I didn’t get it. “Sounds creepy to me. Why would you think it’s promising?”

“Come on, think about it. Lanterns at night, crowds, the sound of firecrackers—who else would do that but ancient official tomb raiders? And where there are official tomb raiders, there’s bound to be treasure!” Hou Jinshan said, getting more and more worked up.

His explanation actually made sense. His story held together well. So I asked, “But what does this have to do with the Nine-Ring Jade Casket? Can’t move forward without it?”

“I didn’t steal the casket for what’s inside. I’m not as smart as you people—I’d never figure out those nine rings in a lifetime. I just wanted to confirm the Water System Map on the side.”

Hou Jinshan explained that he firmly believed Nieyao was real, even though most scholars and records agreed it was a fictional mountain name invented by Liu Bowen.

He’d spent a ton of time digging through research—it hadn’t been easy, and the obstacles weren’t worth recounting here. Eventually, he found a mountain in the Classic of Mountains and Seas that bore a striking resemblance to Liu Bowen’s Nieyao.

“Arctic Heavenly Cabinet Mountain,” Hou Jinshan said. “It’s very similar to Nieyao Divine Mountain. Sure, it might be made up too, but its geographic features are more distinct—very similar to a region in Hubei. The Chu emperor and the casket are closely linked. To confirm my theory, I need to compare it with the Water System Map on your casket.”

I nodded. “So where in Hubei do you think Nieyao Divine Mountain actually is?”

Hou Jinshan chuckled and gave me a name:

“Shennongjia.”