duyong

I was born in the 1980s, and officially stepped into the world of Feng Shui in 2006. Over the past decade, I’ve witnessed mysteries that most would never believe.

In 2013, over 100,000 fish died mysteriously in Liaozhong Reservoir…
In Tower Bay Street, spirits marched in a ghostly parade…
In Wenguantun, shadowy markets rose at dusk…
And in front of the Shenyang Imperial Palace, a ghostly princess once sat in her palanquin.

Were these the workings of nature — or something far more ancient and unseen?

In ten years, I’ve saved lives — and yes, I’ve ruined some too. Feng Shui is like a blade: it bears no evil or virtue. The darkness lies in the hearts of men.

This book is not written to boast about my mastery or to chase after the sensational. I write to share a truth:

Feng Shui can nurture life — or destroy it. There is no good or evil in the art itself. Only in the human heart.

Tales of Folk Feng Shui Mysteries

With threats and intimidation, Yin Xiuxiu knelt, swearing to leave once her wish was fulfilled. Ghosts can pass through walls, so I sent her ahead while I raced up the stairs. A nearby attendant shrieked and fainted.

Blocking the hotel's yang energy protected Xiuxiu from the bride's fiery aura. On the second floor, I pushed open the hall door just as the emcee boomed: "If love is a beautiful flower, marriage is its sweet fruit. If love is spring rain, marriage is the sun after the storm. Now, groom, claim your sunshine!"

Spotlights bathed the bride. Hiding in the corner, I watched with my Divine Eye. Initially, strong yang energy repelled Xiuxiu, but locking it disrupted the sound system, buying time.

Just in time, as the wedding march started, Xiuxiu bowed to me. I signaled, clutching a leaf—the formation's core. If she turned hostile, I'd shatter the spell, restoring yang energy.

Xiuxiu possessed the bride. The girl shuddered, eyes changing. Li Bo knelt with flowers: "Darling, will you marry me?"

The bride stared intently, then sobbed uncontrollably. Her cries moved onlookers to tears. "I do! I do! I want to be your wife!" she shouted.

Amid applause, the emcee recovered quickly: "What a touching moment! These vows show the bride's trust in her partner. Let's welcome the newlyweds!"

Guests whispered. "Li Bo found a keeper," one said. A young man nearby muttered, "My sister's acting strange—she said she regretted this yesterday."

As the bride wept and the groom looked uncomfortable, the emcee continued: "The groom has a gift." Li Bo fumbled for a ring. "This is for you. I love you."

When the ring slipped on, the bride wailed again. The emcee pressed on: "Li Bo, will you love her through aging and illness?"

"Dear bride, will you stay loyal in poverty and health?"

As the ceremony neared its end, the bride refused to move. The emcee improvised: "She's overwhelmed by happiness—let's cheer her on!"

Just as Li Bo stepped forward, the bride shrieked: "I love you, Li Bo! I love you so much!" Then, her expression went blank. After a moment, she sobbed: "I've always dreamed of marrying you... but why did I die? Why did that car hit me on our wedding day?"

Gasps filled the hall. Li Bo paled: "Xiuxiu?" He burst into tears.

Chaos erupted. The bride wailed: "You married someone else a year after I died! Why didn't you wait?" Her parents stood stunned. Seeing this, I crushed the leaf. Gray qi surged, scorched by yang energy, and I trapped it with Five Emperors Coins.

Chapter 40: The Wedding Scene (2/2)