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

Chaos erupted at the wedding. Yin Xiuxiu's spirit fled the yang fire, thankfully shielded by drawn curtains—sunlight would've annihilated her. The bride collapsed, only mildly affected by yin energy; she'd recover in days.

Her parents rushed her to the hospital. As guests whispered about the bride's outburst, Xiuxiu stood five meters from me. I approached with a sigh: "Xiuxiu, your wish is fulfilled. It's time to move on."

"Master, I can't accept this! Why did I die? Why did he remarry?" she wept.

Five Emperors Coins can subdue spirits, but Xiuxiu's only grievance was heartbreak. "Wait here," I said, dragging a stunned Li Bo offstage. "I'm a yin-yang master. Xiuxiu's stuck in obsession. Explain yourself to set her free."

Li Bo nodded numbly. "Where is she? How can I tell her I love her?"

I gave him a crushed leaf to hold, then willow leaf water to wipe his eyes. Moments later, he choked: "Xiuxiu, is that you?"

"Why remarry a year after I died? We promised forever! Why me?" she sobbed.

Li Bo lunged, but I blocked him—Five Emperors Coins kept them apart. Human and ghost wept, one with tears, the other without.

"I waited at the registry all day," Li Bo cried. "Learning of your death, I wanted to die, but my parents... Forgive me, I failed you."

Li Bo hesitated. "I... had no choice. After mourning, I had to provide for my parents. Liu Mengyao, the CEO's daughter, liked me. You were gone..."

Ghosts cling to 执念 (obsession). Truth sets them free, but communication requires lowering yang fire—hence "spirit possession" when ghosts disrupt humans.

Xiuxiu's form faded. "Do you love me?"

A guest screamed, triggering a stampede. Tables overturned as people fled. When the hall emptied, Xiuxiu's spirit rose: "I love you too, Li Bo. No regrets. If there's a next life, I'll be your wife. Goodbye."

Sunlight poured in as her spirit dissolved. Li Bo crouched, sobbing. "She's really gone? She won't haunt me?"

"Crossing the Naihe Bridge severs worldly ties. Heaven sees all—choose wisely. Visiting her grave on her anniversary might've spared this."

Li Bo grinned awkwardly. His evasiveness on the phone and year - long absence from her grave spoke volumes.

Chapter 41: Because of Love (1/2)