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

My gaze snapped to the infant—no facial features. When fully delivered, it had four hands and three feet, a 畸形儿 (monster). It gasped its last breath at birth.

I slipped out, mind reeling. This was the result of overwhelming yin energy. As I pushed through the ER doors, a young man cried, "Doctor, how's my girlfriend?"

Studying him—tall, handsome, more spirited than Zhao Zhiyong—I said, "Let's talk over there," pointing to the corridor's end.

He was Fang Shaoyu, a fitness trainer. In the restroom, I removed my mask. "What happened? How did she get parasites?"

Piecing together his story: Fang had long flirted with Li Qian but never acted. Though pregnant, everyone knew she was wealthy. After Zhao Zhiyong's death, they reconnected.

Li Qian had been suing, but three days ago, Zhao Na suddenly offered peace. They'd follow legal procedures, but Zhao Na demanded taking "her things." After moving, Li Qian's life collapsed—bugs, miscarriage scares, ghostly noises. Fang stepped in, willing to "inherit" the situation.

Today was the court date. While Fang got his car serviced, Li Qian went for a walk and collapsed, found by a Good Samaritan.

Everything clicked: Zhao Na had orchestrated this. How could she be so vicious? I shrugged off Fang's calls, images of Zhao Na's sweet face clashing with this horror.

"Sign at the ER—she didn't make it." I shook off his grasp. He collapsed, muttering, "Dead? The money she promised... All that groveling for nothing?"

Ignoring him, I hailed a cab to Zhao Na's villa. The back gate was locked; I smashed the glass and entered. A chill ran through me.

My Luopan led to the 生死位 (life - death position). Under the floor, I unearthed a palm - sized box with a 干瘪 (shriveled) spider, over a foot long. Zhao Na had aimed to kill.

But she couldn't have found the life - death position alone. A bad omen gripped me. Sneaking out, I raced to the Yangfang mansion.

Calling Zhao Na, her voice was cold. "Are you home?"

"I left a talisman at your place—it's harmful. Check the closet." My voice trembled. We'd dated, but she'd never given me a key—she'd always feared me.

After Li Qian's death, she'd rush back to remove the "talisman." I waited across the street. Ten minutes later, a Mercedes arrived. A 20 - year - old man opened the door for Zhao Na, dressed in a red bodycon dress. They cuddled into the compound, right before my eyes.

Chapter 42: The Vicious Beauty (2/2)