"Wait…" The man in the black trench coat called out, motioning for me to sit back down.
"What else do you have to say?" I looked at him and asked.
"As expected of the prized disciple of the Feng Shui King, Li Xuantong. If I'd known you were going to interfere in this matter, I never would've taken the job," he said with a sigh.
"You think flattering me will get you what you want? That's a bit unrealistic, don't you think?" I replied.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a jade pendant, placing it on the table. "This is the soul essence of that girl. I'll trade it for the item. You can't push things too far—always leave a way out in this business, so we can meet again without bad blood."
One glance told me it was a dead jade—its only purpose was to store a person's soul.
Seeing this, I walked back to sit across from him.
Taking the jade, I focused on its energy. Sure enough, I could feel the presence of a soul within.
I pocketed it and gave him a slight smile.
The man coughed violently, leaving specks of blood on his mask.
"To be honest," I said calmly, "I didn't bring the item. And I never planned to return it to you."
His body tensed at my words. "Wu Jie, don't think being the Feng Shui King's disciple means I can't deal with you. Even a cornered rabbit bites—don't do something you'll regret."
"Are you threatening me?" I asked evenly.
"You could put it that way," he said coldly.
"Friend, calm down. If I don't give you the item, how long do you think you can survive? Who gave you the courage to threaten me?" My tone was still flat.
His breathing quickened. I couldn't see his eyes behind the dark sunglasses, but I could imagine the burning rage in them. He probably wanted to strangle me right there.
"What do you want?" he asked at last, his tone softening.
"I may not have the item, but you don't have to die. There's a way to save you," I said in a low voice.
"What way?" He leaned forward eagerly.
I pulled out a slip of paper I'd prepared beforehand and placed it on the table.
"This paper has instructions for a ritual. Using a specific person's birth date and eight characters, you can transfer the backlash afflicting you onto them. Whoever hired you to set up the Massacre Curse—use this on them. Then have them come to me. This is your only chance to survive," I told him.
He took the paper, glanced at it briefly, then looked at me long and hard through his sunglasses before pocketing it. Without another word, he hurried out.
I watched his staggering, trembling figure disappear. He was clearly enduring relentless torment every second—he'd make his choice soon enough.
Even among Feng Shui masters, there are those who walk the righteous path and those who embrace evil.
This man was the latter—the kind who, for the right price, would use his skills to harm or even kill.
Now that he'd run into me, I wasn't about to let him off easy.
Once he was gone, I left as well.
When I returned to the courtyard house, Uncle Huzi was standing at the gate waiting.
"Young master, you're back. Any trouble?"
"No, it went smoothly. Let's talk inside," I said, ushering him in.
Once the door was closed, I instructed, "Tonight, no matter who comes looking for me, don't let them in."
"Rest assured, young master. With me here, no one will step inside this yard," Uncle Huzi promised, thumping his chest.
I nodded and went to my room. Taking out the dead jade, I murmured an incantation.
Moments later, a faint silhouette appeared—it was Li Na's soul.
I never thought our next meeting would be like this.
She appeared with a sorrowful expression, crystal-like tears welling in her eyes—though ghosts can't cry, it was her way of showing emotion.
"Wu Jie, thank you for saving me…" she said gratefully.
"We were classmates. No matter what, I couldn't just stand by," I replied.
"Wu Jie… back then, when I pursued you, why didn't you accept me? Didn't you have even a little feeling for me?" Her gaze was full of longing.
Her question caught me off guard—I'd expected her to speak of her grievances, not this.
I gave an awkward smile. "It's not what you think. My master didn't allow me to date. You're… actually really great."
Before she could press further, I quickly changed the subject. "Tell me—why did you take your own life? And how did your soul end up in someone else's hands?"
Her face darkened instantly, and the room seemed to grow colder. The resentment radiating from her was immense.
"It was Wang Chaoyang. He ruined me!" she spat through clenched teeth.
"Wang Chaoyang? Weren't you two dating?" I asked, puzzled.
"No. I was forced," she said.
What she told me next filled me with fury.
I'd known Wang Chaoyang had been pursuing her. How they ended up "together," I hadn't paid attention. Now I had the ugly truth.
Just over a month ago, Wang invited her to his birthday party—held at a hotel his family owned.
She agreed out of politeness.
But when she arrived, there were only a few people there, mostly men.
In a private room, Wang and his friends kept pressuring her to drink. She didn't know if they'd spiked her glass, but after a few drinks, she blacked out.
When she awoke, she was naked in bed, her lower body in searing pain.
Wang stood nearby, phone in hand, and threatened her: if she told anyone, he'd post her nude photos online. Even if she went to the police, he wasn't afraid—his father had strong connections in Yanbei and could get him out in days.