I inched closer and tossed the red orbs. The toad swallowed them in one gulp. As I threw the second, a cockcrow split the sky—odd, for there were no farms nearby, and dawn was still hours away.
Hiding my Qing Nang, I returned to the village. What would Grandpa's friend think if he knew I'd severed the land's qi?
After a meal, I headed back to Shenyang. Seeing Grandpa still paralyzed, I asked anxiously why he hadn't recovered.
"Did you kill the golden and silver snakes?" he asked.
"Yes, and fed the rabbit's eyes to the toad. The rabbit ran off after I released it."
"Then I'll heal soon." Indeed, his sores vanished by noon, his eyesight returned the next day, and he walked within three days. I urged him to see a doctor, but he said, "This isn't something medicine can cure."
I recounted everything. He sighed, "I forged dragon qi to attract those snakes and lock the tomb's energy. Now it's all broken. The area won't thrive for decades—it's my fault."
Guilt consumed me. "Is there a way to fix it?"
"Not directly, but if the 'transported luck' is strong, the rabbit might recover." (Meaning borrowing qi from neighboring cities.)
Relieved, I listened as Grandpa explained the toad was a water spirit. After absorbing the five elements' qi, it rested in the Liu family's tomb. With the rabbit bound by snakes, the tomb became the toad's den, channeling qi into the Liu ancestors' grave—hence their rapid rise.
Breaking the tomb would bring me karma, though he couldn't predict its form—maybe shortened life or worse. The only remedy was doing good deeds.
As for Mr. Liu: his son was promoted from county clerk to district office deputy director, only to be caught embezzling. Despite wealth, he was as miserly as his father. When his wife took bribes in his name, he praised her "business sense." After their arrest, the eldest son went to prison, the younger murdered someone, and the Liu family collapsed.
Seeing Grandpa recover, I felt overjoyed—even willing to skip university for him. This ordeal deepened my awe of feng shui; textbooks paled beside the reality of a meter-long toad and a rabbit with agate eyes. The 2013 fish die-off proved feng shui's power to nurture or destroy.
On my university enrollment day, Grandpa tried to sell our house, but I refused. After arguing from 3 PM to 1 AM, he relented—perhaps sensing my passion for feng shui.
Days later, he called me over. "Do you truly want to learn feng shui?"
I nearly jumped with excitement. Previously, he'd only taught me books, never taking me on jobs.
He sighed, "It's fate. Old Man Zhang's real name was Zhang Zidao, a feng shui master for Yuan Shikai. After Yuan's fall, he fled to Shandong. Bow to his memorial tablet, and I'll give you his Feng Shui Zhai Zhi . Remember: feng shui can save or kill. Never use the dark arts recorded there—they invite heavenly wrath."