Just as Zhang Yucheng had caught his breath, he collapsed to the ground and began vomiting violently. Black water spewed from his mouth like a fountain, and it was a long while before he stopped. He lay on the ground gasping for air, his expensive suit now completely filthy.
"Dad, what's wrong…" Zhang Yunyao rushed over, concerned.
It took Zhang Yucheng a few moments to come back to his senses. His eyes looked confused as he muttered, "What just happened? My stomach hurts like hell… and my head is spinning. I feel awful."
"Why did you open that white box without my permission? If I hadn't intervened, you'd be dead now," I said sternly.
Only then did Zhang Yucheng remember what happened. With a guilty expression, he said, "Young Master Wu, I truly apologize. I was just curious about what was in the box. I saw you open it and nothing happened, so I thought it was safe. I didn't expect that black mist to come pouring out."
"I already told you that your ancestral grave had three suppression items buried in it. This last one is the most crucial—and the most dangerous. You don't understand any of this and still dared to open such a sinister thing? Of course you were going to get hurt. Didn't you notice how I didn't even touch the box with my hands earlier and kept my distance?" I scolded him in one breath.
"I was wrong, I was wrong… Thank you, Young Master Wu, for saving my life. What should we do next? Is it enough to just dig it out?" Zhang Yucheng kept apologizing.
"It's not that simple," I replied. "The enemy didn't just plant these things to ruin the feng shui of your ancestral graves—they want your entire family dead."
This formation was terrifying.
Feng shui can kill, and it can also save. Sometimes, even a single brick in front of a grave or a solitary blade of grass behind it can determine the fate of future generations. Not to mention how much malicious energy had been buried in the Zhang family's ancestral ground.
Hearing this, Zhang Yucheng's parents turned pale with fright, clearly not knowing what to do.
I walked over to the white wooden box Zhang Yucheng had opened and took a look inside.
This time, there wasn't an animal corpse inside, but rather a palm-sized white object.
The sinister energy had already dispersed from the box.
Using two wooden sticks like chopsticks, I carefully picked the white object out of the box and inspected it from all angles—even sniffed it a couple of times. I gasped.
Damn—it was a piece of human skull. And it looked fresh.
The skull was completely intact. Judging by its condition, it had been buried less than a month.
Had the person trying to destroy the Zhang family's feng shui really murdered someone and buried their skull here as a suppression item?
If that was true, then they were absolutely ruthless.
And from what I could tell, this skull held heavy resentment. The person must have suffered grave injustice and died with extreme unwillingness.
In our feng shui world, we call this kind of item a "Grudge Bone."
It's the bone of someone who died tragically and violently—saturated with hate.
Using something like that to harm someone is practically guaranteed to work.
I also noticed faint runes carved into the surface of the skull—so fine that you wouldn't notice unless you were really looking.
This grudge bone had absorbed the ominous energy from the other corpses buried in the Zhang family's ancestral graves. So when the box was opened, its malicious energy burst out, nearly killing Zhang Yucheng on the spot.
Whoever set this up clearly had two goals: first, to destroy the feng shui of the Zhang family, and second, to harm feng shui masters like me. If I hadn't taken precautions, even I might have been killed when the box was opened.
Thankfully, my eight years of training under my master weren't wasted. He was a true feng shui king who passed down all his knowledge and taught me to always approach these situations with extreme caution.
As I was still inspecting the skull, Zhang Yunyao came over again, supporting her father. Curious, she asked, "Young Master Wu, what is that white thing?"
"It's a human skull," I said flatly. "Still fresh—the person probably died less than a month ago."
Father and daughter both trembled with fear. Zhang Yunyao even took a few instinctive steps back.
For ordinary people, just hearing about a skull is scary—let alone seeing one in real life.
Though this was my first time seeing such a thing, I was used to dealing with the supernatural. My mental strength was far beyond the average person.
"First it was a dead cat, then headless snakes, and now a human skull? What on earth is going on?" Zhang Yucheng asked.
"It's actually very clear," I began to explain. "Your ancestral plot is what we call a Dragon-Tiger Qi Dispelling Grave. The mountain in front of the site resembles a coiled dragon, which gives the land some dragon energy and benefits your family's fortune. But the enemy placed nine headless snakes in the wooden box. Snakes are also known as small dragons. By severing their heads, they symbolically cut off your family's dragon vein energy."
"And the cat? That was a symbolic replacement for a tiger. Tigers are also part of the cat family. The enemy blinded it, gutted it, pulled out its teeth—all to symbolically destroy the tiger aspect of the feng shui."
"That skull, however, is a grudge bone—steeped in hatred. This land already has heavy yin energy. Placing such an object here disrupts the spirits of your buried ancestors. It's no wonder your whole family has been cursed."
"So we really have no choice but to move the graves?" Zhang Yucheng asked, already resigned. "In that case, we'll have to trouble you, Young Master Wu, to find us a new feng shui site for reburial."
"I can find the location," I said, "but the relocation will be tricky. This ancestral site is what we call a Corpse-Preserving Ground—it has special properties that preserve the body for centuries. When the wrong kind of energy disturbs it—especially from something as malicious as that skull—it can trigger corpse transformations."
Zhang Yucheng was sweating cold bullets, and Zhang Yunyao looked equally panicked.
After a long pause, Zhang Yucheng said, "Young Master Wu, I don't understand much of what you're saying, but I trust you. Tell me what to do—I'll follow your lead."
"First, we burn all the wooden boxes and their contents. Then we select an auspicious time to break ground, exhume all the coffins, store them at home for three days, and re-bury them in a newly chosen location. Only then will your family be safe."
"When should we begin digging?" he asked.
I did a quick calculation and answered, "Midnight tonight—zi shi—is ideal."
"Alright. We'll go rest at the old house for now and return at midnight to begin."
I nodded. Tiger and I rode back to Zhang Yucheng's old residence in Yongfeng County.
Even though it was called the "old house," Zhang Yucheng had it fully renovated. It had a big courtyard where the car could drive straight in.
When we arrived, Zhang Yucheng's son, Zhang Yunliang, was inside snoring away.
Seeing his son made Zhang Yucheng furious. He was still upset about the way the boy had disrespected me earlier. He woke him up, and the two got into a shouting match—ending on bad terms.
Watching these two bicker like mortal enemies, I turned to Zhang Yunyao and asked, "Has your brother always been like this?"
She looked apologetic and replied, "I'm sorry, Young Master Wu. He didn't know your identity and said things he shouldn't have. My dad was always busy with business when we were young, so my brother grew up undisciplined. His temper is awful—he offends people all the time. If it weren't for my dad's connections, he probably would've been beaten up long ago."
That made me laugh a little. First time I'd seen a sister so blunt about her own brother.
I asked again, "When did his nightmares start?"
"About twenty days ago," she said. "Every night he dreams of jumping off a building—and he dies horribly each time. My dad took him to the hospital and got every test done, but nothing came up. Even a psychologist said it was just stress. But my brother lives for partying and chasing girls. What kind of stress could he possibly have?"
Her confusion made me think.
Was Zhang Yunliang's condition directly linked to the problems in the ancestral grave?
The timing of his nightmares matched the onset of disturbances in the family tomb.
But I suspected it wasn't the tomb that caused his mental state—it might be the other way around.
Feng shui issues can bring misfortune, but not usually psychological disturbances.
Still, it was just a theory—I couldn't be sure.
Later that evening, after we'd eaten a hearty meal that Zhang Yucheng had prepared, night fell.
Midnight was approaching.
And then something happened—Zhang Yucheng's high blood pressure flared up, likely due to stress. He was dizzy and couldn't stand. There was no way he could join us to dig up the graves.
I told him to rest, and he appointed someone to accompany me in his place.
He sent Zhang Yunyao—and also his son Zhang Yunliang, probably for added security.
Honestly, I didn't want the boy tagging along. He seemed like the type who would mess things up.
But Zhang Yucheng sternly warned him: if he didn't cooperate fully, he'd break his legs himself.
Zhang Yunliang reluctantly agreed, though his face showed clear discontent.
Apparently, to avoid nightmares, he had started staying up all night and sleeping during the day—which worked to some extent. So tonight, he was wide awake.
With him and eight workers, we headed back to the ancestral tomb.
The workers weren't thrilled. They'd seen what happened earlier and were still shaken.
Zhang Yucheng had to double their pay just to convince them to come.
At night, the graveyard looked especially eerie. A white mist drifted through the air, adding to the creepy atmosphere.
The moment we arrived, Zhang Yunliang pulled out his phone and started playing games—not a shred of responsibility in sight.
He really was a waste of space.
Once the time was right, I picked a location and had the workers begin digging.
They were strong farmhands and quickly unearthed two coffins within an hour.
Even now, blood continued to seep from the soil, but the workers were used to it. They had seen it all during the day.
The coffins were rotten from age, but the bodies inside were perfectly preserved.
Just as I had said—this was a Corpse-Preserving Ground.
Two coffins revealed a man and a woman, elderly, likely ancestors of the Zhang family.
Since Zhang Yucheng had anticipated this, he'd prepared new coffins on site.
We moved the corpses into the new coffins with care.
Just as we finished moving the second body, Zhang Yunyao suddenly received a phone call.
Her face turned pale. Something was wrong.