38: The Jianghu of the Gelaohui

Lin Feng took Wang Dalong to a riverside teahouse in a more primitive and lively old market town near Anshunchang and sat down.

The teahouse was an old-fashioned timber-framed building built along the river, with several bamboo tables and chairs arranged on the riverside corridor under a mottled tarpaulin awning. The river breeze blew in, carrying moist vapor that refreshed the spirit.

The two ordered two cups of local lidded-bowl tea, the tea's fragrance curling upward. Wang Dalong boredly scrolled through his phone, looking at the online comments mocking them for being "all bark and no bite," rolling his eyes in anger. Lin Feng remained silent, merely holding his tea bowl and staring blankly at the rushing waters of the Dadu River, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

At a nearby table sat several local elderly tea drinkers, cracking melon seeds while chatting in dialect. Their voices weren't loud, but in the quiet afternoon, they drifted over clearly.

"...Speaking of our Sichuan, we have to mention the Gowned Brothers!" A thin old man, skinny as a bamboo pole and wearing a tank top, took a sip of tea and began to boast. "Back in the day, they 'controlled the heavens, the earth, and the air, but the government couldn't control Sichuan and Chongqing'! Once you stepped outside the city gates, the government's words meant nothing; what mattered were the rules of the Gowned Brother masters!"

"Exactly, exactly," another plumper old man nodded repeatedly. "My grandfather was a 'Lodge Master' back then! In those days, Bandits and warlords were everywhere. Without the Gowned Brothers covering you, you couldn't even do business! Which mountain didn't have a few 'Great Kings' ruling over it?"

The words "Bandit" and "Gowned Brothers" were like two small pebbles thrown into the calm lake of Lin Feng's thoughts, stirring up ripples.

His originally blank gaze slowly began to refocus.

The bamboo-pole old man got excited, his voice rising slightly: "Do you know how those Bandit dens were chosen? They were incredibly particular! They had to be absolute strongholds that were easy to defend and hard to attack! Usually, they chose places surrounded by mountains on three sides with only one path up, and they'd set up a 'Thin Strip of Sky' at the entrance. Then, in front of the fortress, there had to be a river or a cliff—that's a natural moat! What do you call that? That's called 'Facing Water, Backing Mountains,' taking full advantage of the terrain!"

Boom—

That last phrase, "Facing Water, Backing Mountains," was like a bolt of lightning that instantly cleared all the fog in Lin Feng's mind!

The tea bowl in his hand trembled slightly, and some scalding tea spilled out, but he didn't even notice.

Of course!

Facing water, backing mountains!

He had previously fallen into a fixed mindset; as soon as he heard those four words, he subconsciously associated them with Feng Shui and geomancy, thinking of temples and Taoist monasteries—buildings that pursued "Heaven and Earth's Spiritual Qi."

But he had completely ignored the most primitive and simple military-geographical meaning of those four words!

In the era of cold weapons, "Facing Water, Backing Mountains" was not a synonym for a Feng Shui treasure land at all, but rather the most ideal geographical model for building fortresses, mountain strongholds, and passes!

"Backing mountains" meant the rear was secure and could be defended by relying on the mountain, making it difficult for enemies to outflank them.

"Facing water" meant there was a natural barrier in front; whether it was a river or a cliff, it would greatly hinder the enemy's line of attack.

Wasn't this the standard configuration for ancient military fortresses and Bandit strongholds!

Who was Taiping Rebellion Leader? He was a veteran general of a hundred battles! To him, the first thing the phrase "Facing Water, Backing Mountains" would bring to mind would never be the meditation room of a monk or Taoist, but inevitably the fortress of soldiers and warriors!

And what place could be more suitable for hiding a massive amount of treasure than a Bandit den that had been operated for years with complete defensive works?

Bandit strongholds were themselves built to store and protect looted goods. They usually had sturdy stone walls, secret passages, and cellars; their sturdiness and concealment even far exceeded that of ordinary temples!

Furthermore, Taiping Rebellion Leader's troops were a defeated army being pursued by the Qing Army. They had neither the time nor the ability to build a new treasure site. Their only choice was to "borrow" an existing location that met all the criteria.

A Bandit stronghold that had been wiped out by the government or abandoned due to internal strife was practically a tailor-made treasury for him! He only needed to send a small squad of elites to transport the treasure in, seal the entrance, and erase all traces. The government's attention was all on chasing his main force; who would notice a dilapidated stronghold in the desolate mountains?

Once this logical chain was formed, all the previous doubts were resolved!

Why couldn't Chuan Army General find it? Because he focused all his attention on the flat lands and shallow hills near Anshunchang; he was "digging" for treasure, but the treasure wasn't "buried" at all—it was "hidden" inside a sturdy architectural fortification!

Why were the temples wrong? Because of the conflict of faith! Taiping Rebellion Leader could not trust pagans. But Bandits were different; an abandoned Bandit den had no issues of faith, only physical utility!

"It makes sense... it all makes sense..." Lin Feng murmured to himself, his eyes erupting with a terrifying light that startled Wang Dalong, who was scrolling through his phone next to him.

"Brother Feng? What's wrong? Are you possessed?" Wang Dalong saw his fixed gaze and heard him muttering, feeling that something was off.

Lin Feng didn't answer him. Instead, he stood up abruptly, grabbed the map on the table, and walked quickly to the teahouse owner to buy a more detailed, military-grade topographic map that included all the surrounding mountains and rivers.

He spread the topographic map out on an empty table with a "clatter" and leaned over it entirely.

His brain, which had been silent for nearly a day, now started running at a terrifying speed, like an engine injected with nuclear fuel.

"Wang Dalong, come here!" His voice carried a hint of an irresistible command.

Wang Dalong scurried over and saw Lin Feng holding a pen, marking things on the huge topographic map while muttering.

"Taiping Rebellion Leader fought his way from Guangxi into Sichuan, with the main Qing Army forces led by Luo Bingzhang, Tang Yougeng, and others hot on his heels. To hide a massive amount of treasure, he would need at least ten days to half a month. During this time, he must have found a gap where he could temporarily shake off the main Qing force's pursuit."

"Look here," Lin Feng's finger circled an area on the map. "From the time he entered Ya'an Prefecture to his arrival at the banks of the Dadu River, his marching route was roughly like this. And the Qing Army's encirclement was formed like this."

His pen drew two different colored arrows on the map, one representing Taiping Rebellion Leader and the other representing the Qing Army, forming a dynamic situation map of the pursuit.

"To hide the treasure, he had to find a location along this route that could both delay time and be sufficiently hidden. This location couldn't be too far from his main marching route, or it would delay the main army's movement; but it couldn't be too close either, or it would be easily discovered by Qing scouts."

Lin Feng's eyes stared intently at the map as if he wanted to engrave every contour line and every river into his brain.

Wang Dalong stood aside, not daring to even breathe loudly. He looked at Lin Feng's profile; sunlight filtered through the gaps in the tea shed onto him, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, but his gaze was focused to the extreme.

Wang Dalong knew that the omnipotent "God Feng" was back.

He just didn't expect that this time, the inspiration would actually come from two words mentioned inadvertently by the old men at the next table while they were bragging—

Bandit.