The night in Chinatown is quiet. Outside the Feng Shui Pavilion under the sloping eaves of green tiles, neon lights flicker, and the streets are deserted like the tide receding.
Lin Fang pushed the door open alone, and the wooden door with old paint creaked in the silence, as if awakening this long-dormant Feng Shui ancient land.
The smell of medicine in the house has not yet dissipated.
In the furnace, a wisp of light blue smoke slowly rises, circling in front of the Bagua mirror on the wall, like a reflection of the intersection of heaven and earth. Incense is the "Yang Gang Spice" he personally prepared this morning, which can cleanse the yin and keep the mind.
He sat cross-legged in the center of the Bagua diagram in the pavilion, holding a red sandalwood rosary, breathing deeply, and his calm expression hid a sharp edge like a sword.
Although the bad Feng Shui situation this time has been broken, the surface is as calm as before, but Lin Fang's heart is hidden.
Who left behind that wax corpse buried deep underground, wrapped in bronze chains, and refined with evil spirits? What kind of fate change does that cry like a baby's cry indicate?
"The riot at the Bayview construction site... is definitely not a sudden event." He whispered.
His eyes suddenly opened, and a cold light flashed in his black and white pupils.
And at this moment, the dusty old-fashioned knob landline on the corner of the table suddenly rang.
Ding-ling-ling!
The crisp and piercing ringing sounded in the silence, like a sharp blade cutting through the quiet night.
Lin Fang frowned and looked at the phone. It was an old item left by his father. No one had used it for three years, and the landline number had never been made public.
"Who... would call at this time?" He whispered.
He did not answer it immediately, but got up and walked to the door, gently closed the vermilion wooden door, and dropped the bolt, then returned to the table, sat down, and picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
One second, two seconds, three seconds.
There was silence on the other side, as if there was a ghost breathing in the dark.
Then, a low and hoarse voice finally sounded:
"...Mr. Lin."
The voice seemed to come from a deep well, with a strange echo and a faint smile.
"People in the fate bureau never know themselves." The hoarse voice carried a hint of deliberate provocation.
Lin Fang frowned slightly, and said in a steady voice: "Who are you?"
"You have already stepped into the bureau, but you haven't realized it yet."
"Wanjing Yinshi Bureau is just the first step."
"Every step you take next will fall into the abyss... Even your ancestor's master of fortune-telling may not be able to save you from it."
Lin Fang stood up suddenly, his right fist clenched with blue veins throbbing.
"Who are you?!"
"It doesn't matter who I am. What's important is that you have been chosen."
Snap!
The phone was hung up, and only the rustling of electricity remained in the landline.
Lin Fang stood there, silent for a long time.
The tone of the man's speech flashed through his mind - it was not Mandarin, nor Cantonese, but more like a complex accent of the coastal area of southern Fujian, mixed with inflections and pharyngeal sounds, like the whispers of an ancient sacrifice.
"This person not only understands my fate, but also... knows the Feng Shui veins of my ancestors."
"He is not threatening, but giving 'orders' - he is the main chess player in this fate game."
Lin Fang suddenly felt an unprecedented sense of oppression, rushing straight from the spine to the back of the head, as if an invisible hand was controlling his every breath in the dark.
He took a deep breath, walked quickly to the inner hall, and opened the red copper secret box at the bottom of the bookcase.
In the box, a yellowed fate chart lay quietly.
- This is the Lin family's ancestral fate chart, which not only records his birth date, but also marks the future changes in luck with "life palace rotation, annual trend, and seven evil spirits".
Lin Fang spread out the horoscope, and his fingertips slowly slid towards the center of the horoscope:
[Jiyou year·Gengchen month·Guiyou day·Xinmao hour]
This was exactly the moment of his birth, corresponding to the dual numerology of Ziwei Doushu and Bazi.
But the next second, his face suddenly changed!
In the center of the horoscope, there was a black deadly evil line, extending from the "Yuanyang Palace" of the horoscope to the "Duanzi Palace", curving like a snake, penetrating the entire horoscope core.
"This evil line...was not there yesterday!" He gritted his teeth and growled.
In other words, after he broke the evil situation of Wanjing, someone quietly made a move in his horoscope.
And if you want to modify the horoscope without touching the owner of the horoscope and leaving no trace of evil spirit, only those who master the "Tongmingshu" can do it!
This is the method of a "heavenly master-level" horoscope master!
Lin Fang sat back at the table, his eyes as cold as frost:
"Bayview is just the prelude. This is a fate hunt, and the target is me."
The next morning.
The cold dew outside the Feng Shui Pavilion had not dried yet, and there was a faint moisture in the air.
As soon as Lin Fang opened the door, Wang Qiuming rushed into the room with a sullen face, holding a stack of documents in his hand.
"Master Lin! Something happened!"
"Feng Guoshun, the boss of the Bayview construction site, died in his own home last night."
Lin Fang's eyes fixed: "How did he die?"
"Burn to death."
Wang Qiuming lowered his voice: "The whole villa caught fire in the early morning, but the strange thing is that his whole body was charred, but his eyes were intact and wide open, as if he saw something terrible before he died and didn't close them at all."
"In a normal fire, the cornea would have melted long ago. There is only one possibility - Yin fire."
Lin Fang said coldly: "Yin fire burns people, and the true soul does not disperse. Someone is using Feng Shui to guide the soul and curse fire to kill."
"But this is not the weirdest part."
Wang Qiuming handed over a few photos: "This was taken by the police during the investigation."
In the photo, a Bagua diagram outlined by cinnabar appeared on the floor of Feng Guoshun's study. There were residual runes in the picture, and the three words "Zhen, Li, Kun" could be vaguely seen in the charred black - it was the soul-sealing formation used by Lin Fang yesterday!
Lin Fang's eyes suddenly turned cold: "...someone is framing me."
"The police have already started investigating you, and there are even anonymous reports that you are 'using Feng Shui to commit sorcery fraud' and are suspected of organizing and infiltrating religious groups."
Lin Fang said nothing, walked back to the inner hall, took out a map and a "city aura map" he drew himself.
"Look here."
He pointed to the Bayview plot: "Originally, this land vein has been re-arranged by me, and the yin and yang have been harmonized. But after midnight last night, the aura of the entire city has been shaken again."
He drew with a red pen, and the pen moved like a dragon.
-A winding aura line, starting from the Bayview plot, bypassing Chinatown, crossing the city center, and finally converging to the "Ross Ridge Private Cemetery" in the northwest corner of Los Angeles.
"Is this... a Feng Shui secret plan?" Wang Qiuming said in surprise.
"No, it's fate."
Lin Fang looked at the map and said coldly: "Someone is using me as the eye of the qi and the entire Los Angeles as the board to build a grand 'anti-fate'."
"What do you mean?"
"Anti-fate means reversing the original luck of the fate owner - once successful, my fate will collapse in reverse, no longer 'Zhengyang Shengmen', but will become - 'Juemai Sijun'."
"Is this going to... destroy your life?" Wang Qiuming took a breath.
"Not only that."
Lin Fang looked at the morning light outside the window, his voice as low as thunder:
"It is to cut off my qi, cut off my roots, and cut off my descendants - completely wipe out the 'feng shui heritage' of my Lin family from the perspective of fate."
At the same time.
Ten kilometers away from Chinatown, deep in the Ross Ridge Cemetery.
In an abandoned private ancestral hall, incense was lingering and bronze lamps were flickering.
A middle-aged man in a grey suit and a jade ring on his left hand was meditating with his eyes closed. In front of him was a yellowed old photo - Lin Fang's eyes in the photo were painted with black "life-sealing curse patterns".
The man pinched his hands, his fingertips passed around a string of copper bells, and uttered a low spell.
"Lin Fang..."
"You really broke the first step."
"But the more you break the situation, the more chaotic your fate will be. The next step - it depends on whether you can survive the 'cut off the child and the pulse' situation."
He slowly opened his eyes, his eyes like knives.
Behind him, three young men in white clothes and rattan hats stood silently, like soul messengers.
"I want you..."
"Stop breathing, end life, and destroy the roots."
The lights flickered, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly turned cold.