Chapter 116: Vengeance

The red cloth pouch landed securely in the center of the Bagua formation—I knew then that I had succeeded.

Perhaps Kun Ji wasn't the true mastermind behind everything, but if he had never appeared, things would have gone according to plan.At the very least… Wang Yi wouldn't have died.

"Rise!"

With a pointed finger and a slash of my sword, the red pouch burst into blue flames.

I scattered some paper spirit money into the air.In that sealed room, a gust of yin wind swirled up, tearing the paper into shreds mid-air.That was payment for the Five Directional Generals who helped me capture Kun Ji's soul.

As for these "Five Directional Generals," they were just wandering spirits seeking redemption by performing righteous deeds.After all, in our rituals, the incantations always invoke the names of divine figures like:

"By order of the Supreme Lord Laozi…By decree of the Sanmao True Lords…By the authority of the Jade Emperor…"

These are borrowed titles.If I were to say, "By the order of Zhang Dabao," these spirits wouldn't even bother to turn their heads.

Once the five generals took their reward and departed from the altar, I let out a deep breath.

Then I wrote Wang Yi's name on a talisman paper and placed it at the center of the altar.

I slowly knelt, bowed three times, and said:

"Master… I have avenged you.Though we of the Yin-Yang path respect the laws of karma,he used dark witchcraft to kill you,so I shall shoulder that karma in your place.I will make sure Kun Ji suffers through the Eighteen Levels of Helluntil you, Master, are reborn into peace."

After lighting incense and completing the offering, the red cloth pouch had completely burned away.Kun Ji's form began to appear within the Bagua array.

When he saw me, his eyes turned blood red.He snarled and screamed:

"So it was you!I'll eat your flesh! Drink your blood!May you never reincarnate!"

I stared at his twisted and hateful face, then said coldly:

"I know you carry the blood of the Li shamans.Your totem resists karmic backlash.But if heaven won't punish you, then I will.If you refuse to enter the Eighteen Hells,then I'll build one just for you."

Kun Ji sneered:

"Dream on.Do you think the soul of a Li shaman can be captured so easily?Even if you kill me, I'll be reborn in the Rebirth Village,with full memory of this life.Then I'll return and slaughter your descendants,turn your family into slaves and whores for generations!"

His spirit flickered between light and dark.His glowing eyes seemed to freeze the entire room.

What he said wasn't wrong.In Yunnan province, there really is a place called Rebirth Village, where many people recall their past lives.But those people share one flaw—once they leave the village, they tend to fall ill or even die.It was once reported in Eastern News and even listed among the world's unsolved mysteries.

Old Zhang once told me about a relative's child who fell from a building, impaled through the chest by steel rods.Five years later, the parents had another child, and that child had the same scar on his chest—identical in placement and size.

That child was just an anomaly.But Kun Ji was different—he was a sorcerer, likely immune to the six paths of reincarnation, untouched by Meng Po's tea of forgetfulness.

Still, I'm a Feng Shui master.And we have our own ways.

I took the hair wrapped in talisman paper, and placed it in a small coffin—barely 20 cm in size.This type of coffin, called "Guan Cai" (管财), is often used by merchants who follow Feng Shui—believing it brings prosperity.

Then I placed the hair bundle into the coffin.

Kun Ji instantly screamed:

"What are you doing?!This will bring you karmic retribution!"

"Kneel." I said coldly.

As the talisman sank into the coffin, I took a copper nail, placed it over the lid, and smashed it down with my palm.

Kun Ji howled, dashing madly around the Bagua array, but he couldn't escape.He shrieked like a madman:

"Let me out! I don't want to die!"

Blood dripped from my palm into the coffin.Kun Ji's spirit writhed on the floor in agony.

I placed the coffin on the altar.Then picked up a willow whip and lashed it at his ghost.

With every strike, his body shrank three inches.I kept whipping until the willow leaves shattered, and Kun Ji was reduced to a three-inch-tall figure, kneeling and begging.

His words didn't matter anymore.

I moved the coffin to the mountain position of the Bagua array.Broke the formation with a copper coin.

A flash of white light—his soul sucked into the coffin.

I sealed the lid with talisman paper.Then used red cinnabar to write the incantation:

"Within the vast Fengdu,stand the golden Vajra Mountains.Light of infinite radiance,illuminates the hell of fire.All guilty souls of the Nine Netherworlds,follow the incense-bearing banners.Let wisdom bloom like a lotus,rising in peace to the divine."

Only then did I start dismantling the altar.

It might've seemed easy, but there were three real dangers:

If Kun Ji had been at full strength, a strand of hair would not have been enough to capture his soul. He could've reversed the spell.

If he was recovering in a crowded location instead of a yin-rich place, the soul-capturing spell would've failed.

If his ghost king hadn't been destroyed, I could've been attacked through the medium, even with the five flags guarding me.

In sorcerous battles, there is no such thing as a draw.

Victory means life.Defeat means death.

That's why Feng Shui masters, Gu sorcerers, and shamans rarely interfere with each other's spells.

After subduing Kun Ji, I began cleaning up.But I'd burned a hole in the hotel's floor.

To avoid trouble, I fled during the night.

After all, the room had been booked under Zhou Han's name—any fallout would fall on him.

Kun Ji's soul and spirit were sealed, and his body was now just a rotting husk, soon to be cremated.

Only then would he be truly dead.

But was it over?Of course not.

In the world of Feng Shui, harming someone isn't just about capturing their soul.

The next morning, I left home at dawn.That year, Shenyang was undergoing major construction—bridges, subways, high-rises everywhere.

Without a car, and with motorcycles banned, I had to walk and eventually bought a bicycle to circle the city.

Around noon, while passing a construction site under the Second Ring Road, I looked like a complete mess—clothes flapping in the wind, dust-covered like a beggar.

Feng Shui is hard because you have to walk the earth.You can't just rely on your eyes or "feelings."You need the right time, place, and people to set up a Feng Shui array.

I was looking for a spot of "rootless earth"—a place cut off from all five elements (metal, wood, water, fire, earth)—to set up a prison for Kun Ji's soul.

Only iron can block the five elements.

And no—iron doesn't count as "metal" in this context.

I was fixing my bike's chain when I suddenly heard a loud crash behind me.

A massive stone slab had fallen nearby—I'd dodged death by just ten meters.

My arm was scraped, and I tumbled, covered in dust.

A construction manager with a red hardhat rushed over:

"Is anyone hurt?! You okay? Want to go to a hospital?"

"I'm fine," I waved him off. "Don't worry."

He sighed with relief and muttered:

"This site is cursed.Every time we try lifting anything onto the bridge, the crane fails.Today we're lucky nobody got hurt."

He turned to a younger worker:

"Notify the district office.I suggest closing off the road.Next time we might not be so lucky."

Dusting myself off, I told him:"I'm actually looking for a place to set a Feng Shui array.Would you mind if I took a look?"

He was skeptical at first, but when I pulled out my Feng Shui compass, he became interested.

His name was Zhang Bin, the site manager.

He said:

Last month, while driving piles into the ground, they hit a buried coffin—a skeleton inside.

In the old days, you'd burn paper and say prayers.Now? People don't care anymore.

He reported it to the city, but he had no idea what they did with the bones.

Soon after, strange things started happening:

Workers fell off ladders for no reason

Machines broke down inexplicably

The crane constantly malfunctioned

No one died, but many were injured.Deadlines slipped.

Zhang said:

"I'm cursed."

I looked around.

The bridge met all conditions of a living hell:

Sealed from above and below

Reinforced concrete and steel

Surrounded by cars and trampling feet

Perfect.

I made up my mind.

I told Zhang:

"I know a bit about this stuff.How about I take a look for you?The crane's broken anyway—you've got time.If I can't help, I won't charge you a dime."