Chapter Five: Turtle Hermit Island

Longzi agreed with Danzi’s theory; the construction of this imperial palace must be interconnected. Since Emperor Xuanzong built it for a beauty and for his own ascension to immortality, it was bound to be extraordinary.

He continued, “In the nineteenth year of the Kaiyuan era, a mysterious island—what we now call a mirage—appeared in the Bohai Sea. Coincidentally, fishermen discovered a colossal sea turtle at the same time, estimated to be over ten thousand years old. Such a coincidence was promptly seized upon by those in pursuit of immortality, who declared it an auspicious omen, a sign from heaven that Xuanzong was destined to become immortal. The emperor, already elderly and superstitious, believed it without question, and thus the construction of this sea palace began.”

Though Danzi understood the gist, he thought Longzi’s version was quite interesting, and tried to interject a few comments, only to be silenced by a slap from Longzi, who continued, “Of course, building this palace was no simple feat. They had to capture the sea turtle, construct on its back, and keep it alive at all costs. They tried everything: securing the turtle with wooden beams, then building an inverted dome-shaped structure on top, preserving some buoyancy. They even gathered coral and seaweed from the ocean floor, placing them atop the wood. Over years of construction, the seaweed and coral sank beneath the surface, and they cleverly managed to cover the turtle’s head as well without impeding its breathing—essentially, by submerging the tail, the head could rise to breathe and feed.” Longzi’s imagination added color to the story, drawing Danzi in even more.

“After years of construction, the sea palace was finally completed. But by then, Yang Guifei had already perished at Mawei Slope, and Emperor Xuanzong was lost to grief, neglecting state affairs. The nation was plunged into unprecedented chaos and crisis. That part was my own addition!” Longzi cleared his throat, stroking an imaginary beard, striking the pose of a storyteller.

“Not a bad fabrication! I’ll treat it as a novel,” Danzi replied enthusiastically, eager to hear more.

“And so, the story ends here! If you wish to know what happens next, you’ll have to wait for the next installment,” Longzi concluded.

Danzi was indignant at this. Just as the story reached its peak, he pleaded and cajoled, his expressions shifting through a multitude of hues.

Unable to resist, Longzi relented, “The murals only depict the years of construction, so much of what I’ve told is my own addition.” He glanced at Danzi, who sat with chin in hands, nodding eagerly, “Even your made-up stories are worth listening to.”

“Very well! In the end, Emperor Xuanzong, beset by internal and external troubles, finally passed away. Emperor Suzong, being a dutiful son, buried both his father and mother in the sea palace, allowing them to live together in immortal fashion. And thus, the story concludes.”

“That’s pure nonsense! Of course he’d end up with Yang Guifei. You’re just making things up!” Danzi scoffed.

“Yes and no—TV dramas might portray it that way. But think about it. Suzong was in power—he’d want his parents together. Besides, Yang Guifei had long since died; her body was already buried in the imperial mausoleum on land. How could her son possibly exhume her and rebury her on this sea island? Isn’t that right?”

Danzi scratched his head, considering this. “That makes sense! Even if it’s made up, it’s logical. With the nation in turmoil, who’d have the mind to bury the old man with his lover? No one could accept that! So what happened after that?”

“After that, thousands of years passed. The coral and seaweed thrived, while the wood decayed and hollowed out, turning the palace into a hollow, unsinkable reef—island. And now we’ve come here.”

“And what about the turtle? Did it die?” Danzi was suddenly curious.

“Who knows? Perhaps only the turtle itself knows!” Danzi’s question made Longzi ponder the uniqueness of this floating island—truly a wonder of the world, though known to none. If it were ever discovered, it would attract not only wonder but a host of investors. Perhaps someone would even develop it into a fairyland resort. Who could imagine what would happen then?

As these thoughts passed through his mind, the whole island began to tremble, dust falling from the ceiling as if it were about to collapse.

“An earthquake! Run!” Danzi shouted in alarm.

“You idiot, look around! We’re on a turtle’s back—how could there be an earthquake? If there is, it can only mean…” Longzi paused, suddenly struck by the possibility that the ancient turtle was still alive.

Unbeknownst to them, something else had happened. At that moment, Captain Nor was locked in a fierce battle with the island’s guardian beast. In the struggle, he accidentally triggered a mechanism, awakening the millennia-old turtle and causing this “earthquake.” But Danzi and Longzi were unaware of all this.

“That scared me half to death. I really thought it was an earthquake!” Danzi wiped the cold sweat from his brow.

“If only it were an earthquake!” Longzi had barely finished speaking when a crack appeared in the wall. The mural was split in two, but instead of noticing the artwork, the two men observed that the crack ran in a straight line—evidence, from their experience, of a hidden entrance sealed and concealed by the mural.

Still, the crack’s appearance didn’t mean they could enter immediately. Longzi and Danzi took out their engineer shovels and struck at the fissure. As clods of earth and fragments of stone fell away, a doorway emerged before them, roughly two meters wide and tall enough for a person to enter. Perhaps, after so many years and that violent tremor, the earth sealing the entrance had finally loosened, while the stonework elsewhere remained solid, leaving gaps only at these points.

After this exertion, they soon discovered another underground chamber. Judging from the murals, this grand structure couldn’t only have one such chamber—there had to be hidden sections yet to be found.

“Longzi, let’s go in and have a look!” Danzi suggested cautiously.

Longzi said nothing, but his silence meant agreement, and he followed Danzi into the next chamber. Danzi swept his flashlight around, searching for anything unusual.

“Wow! What a vast chamber! Looks like we were just in the ‘elevator shaft’ before.” Danzi’s term referred to the small entry space compared to this enormous underground palace.

He turned and clapped Longzi on the shoulder. “Now this is a real palace—how grand!”

Longzi said nothing, continuing to sketch in his notebook.

“What are you working on?” Danzi peered over curiously.

“I just realized as we walked, we’ve turned in so many different directions. If I don’t keep track, we might never find our way out! Getting in is one thing, but will we ever get out?” Longzi replied, not looking up.

“You’re right. What if we can’t find the way back?” Danzi muttered, still sweeping his flashlight, searching for anything worth taking.

After a circuit of the chamber, he found nothing but furnishings like those in the Golden Throne Hall—plenty of objects, but nothing of value, or all fakes.

“This palace is awfully shabby—nothing useful, just a lot of junk,” Danzi complained, equating value with wealth.

“I’ve just studied this map. I couldn’t make sense of it at first, but now it’s becoming clear,” Longzi said, never taking his eyes off his notebook.

“Let’s hear it.”

“From this sketch, I can roughly tell: this island is a turtle’s back. Judging by our route, we’re now on the upper left side of the turtle’s shell, about fifteen meters higher than where we entered.”

“Spare me the numbers—can’t you speak plainly?” Danzi rolled his eyes.

“It means there are more chambers below us; the whole island is filled with them! The palace was built from stone, layer by layer. At four meters per level, we’re on the fourth floor above the shell. And your idea about the elevator shaft—maybe it really is the stairwell connecting the floors.”

“So we haven’t found Emperor Xuanzong’s tomb yet?” Danzi asked, surprised.

“Exactly. Judging from the structure, the palace is built like an inverted clay pot, with undulating levels, following the pattern of the ‘Lo Shu’ nine-grid diagram used in the Eight Trigrams formation. Each sector represents a different position—some dangerous, some hiding the true tomb. Xuanzong is in one of these sectors.” Longzi pointed at his notebook.

He had marked down heights, routes, and locations. Every position was labeled with its approximate elevation, corresponding to the grid’s pattern.

Danzi stared at the notebook, baffled. “I don’t get it. Can you explain in layman’s terms?”

“It’s really just the Yin-Yang Eight Trigrams diagram. Each number matches a trigram, and each trigram a direction.” Longzi pointed to the numbers, explaining, “According to the Early Heaven Bagua: one is Kan in the north, two is Kun in the southwest, three is Zhen in the east, four is Xun in the southeast, five is the center, six is Qian in the northwest, seven is Dui in the west, eight is Gen in the northeast, and nine is Li in the south.”

Danzi felt dizzy, but he grasped the main idea. With the Bagua diagram, they wouldn’t be wandering aimlessly and getting lost.

Longzi added, “The ground level isn’t counted as a floor. At fifteen meters elevation, we’re at the fourth level—the southeast sector of the Bagua.”

“So if we find the central palace, we’ll reach the heart of the complex. What are we waiting for? Let’s find a way in!” Now that he had a sense of direction, Danzi was thrilled.

“But…” Longzi hesitated.

“But what? Don’t stall—hurry up! Time is ticking!” Danzi urged.

“But even knowing the location, we may not be able to find it.”

“Why not?” Danzi was growing impatient.

“I only know the direction. Facing such a massive palace, where do we begin? Are there traps inside? Can we get out again? Just the two of us trying to unlock an imperial tomb built by thousands—it’s nearly impossible.”

So the two fell silent, each lost in thought, unsure whether to press on or turn back.