Chapter 023: The Haunted House

Over the past three months, as I delved deeper into my research, my understanding of the Six Divine Heaven-Extinguishing Miasma grew, and so did my unease. My mentor had hoped to resolve this curse before my eighteenth birthday. If nothing had gone awry, the Nine Netherworld Creation Array he set up would have fully dispelled the miasma. But fate rarely aligns with our wishes—he failed, and the cost was his life.

Two months ago, I turned eighteen. This means I completely missed the best window to neutralize the toxic miasma. Even if I were to reconstruct the Nine Netherworld Creation Array now, it would be useless.

If I don’t find another solution, I’m destined to become a living dead—alive in thought alone, utterly devoid of sensation. I have to act quickly. My mentor once told me he didn’t know when the curse would erupt—maybe tomorrow, next year, or a decade from now. But I cannot rely on luck; I’m an orphan, after all. Should something happen to me, no one will care. If the worst comes to pass, suicide would be my only way out.

Yet I fear death, I resist it, and above all, I must not die. Dying now would be an unforgivable betrayal of my mentor, who traded his life for mine. I must live—truly live—find his remains, and kneel before them in gratitude.

For these three months, I questioned many people about the beggar man. Strangely, no one had heard of him. I still remember clearly how he recited a Buddhist prayer while capturing the soul of the Little Green Spirit, which means he used Buddhist magic. A Buddhist practitioner dressed as a beggar is, indeed, an enigma.

I had others examine the prayer beads he left me; everyone insisted they were ordinary, nothing special. When I mentioned they contained a soul, they dismissed it as impossible. Yet I have felt the soul’s faint presence within the beads. I am certain that the soul of the Little Green Spirit resides there.

Another half month passed, and my injuries fully healed. Through my studies, I have devised a preliminary method to counter the Six Divine Heaven-Extinguishing Miasma. Whether it will succeed depends on fate; all I can do is try my utmost.

First, I need to find a spiritually significant geomantic site and set up a layout, then bury myself there once more.

Geomantic sites, too, are ranked. We geomancers generally divide them into seven levels: from the lowest to the highest—Spirit, Profound, Earth, Heaven, Saint, Immortal, and Ultimate.

This was also my mentor’s plan: as long as I steadily improved my skills and found higher-level geomantic sites, I could keep pushing back the eruption of the miasma. According to his vision, if I could ever find an Immortal-level site and set the proper formation, I could dispel the curse completely.

But that is easier said than done—an Immortal-level site is unimaginably rare. Even the most renowned imperial tombs mostly occupy Earth-level sites; even imperial palaces, once chosen as the seat of emperors, are usually no more than Heaven-level. As for a Saint-level site, I have never even heard of one, let alone the fabled Immortal level.

Still, there is little point in worrying over this now. With my current abilities, I can only create a Spirit-level formation. Even if I found a Profound-level site, I wouldn’t be able to use it yet.

A Spirit-level geomantic site is already exceedingly rare. With poor luck, one might search for years and find nothing.

“Uncle Li, any work lately? If something comes up, remember to call me!” I rang up Uncle Li.

He had recovered after half a month in the hospital following his last injury. My mentor hadn’t left me much money, and now I have only a few tens of thousands left. I have to both search for a geomantic site and earn money. If I find a suitable place but lack the funds to acquire it, I’d be in real trouble.

“Xiao Wei, I only have some routine spiritual rites and such these days—nothing suited to you for now. But don’t worry, if something comes up, I’ll call you first!” Uncle Li replied.

Since my mentor passed, few have sought me out for geomancy. After hanging up, I called Uncle Wang and several other acquaintances, asking them to let me know if any geomancy work turned up.

Days went by, and I still hadn’t landed a single job.

This morning, as usual, I had breakfast and began studying the geomantic formations my mentor left me. I had barely sat down in the study when my phone rang—a number I didn’t recognize.

I answered quickly.

“Hello! Is this Yu Wei?” came a man’s voice.

The way he addressed me told me he wasn’t seeking a geomancer’s services. If he were, he’d have called me ‘Mr. Yu,’ not simply ‘Yu Wei.’ His voice was also familiar, though I couldn’t quite place it.

“Yes, speaking,” I replied.

“Heh, you’re hard to track down! Had to go through several people just to get your number!” The man sounded as though we were old friends.

“You are…?” I asked.

“Xiao Wei, you don’t even recognize my voice?” he grumbled, sounding a bit offended.

Hearing him call me ‘Xiao Wei,’ I smiled. Only the Shang brothers addressed me that way.

“Is this Wu Wei or Wu Yong?” I asked.

“It’s your Brother Wu Yong! Got a geomancy job for you—want it?” he said.

“Of course! What is it?” I answered eagerly.

I’d been fretting over my lack of work, and it surprised me that he’d reach out; I hadn’t even mentioned to them that I was looking. Honestly, I’d never considered the brothers reliable—given their loose tongues, I doubted anyone would trust them with serious matters.

“Alright, then set out now—head to Northern Qian!” Wu Yong blurted out with no explanation.

Before I could respond, he added, “Call me when you arrive! That’s all, I’m busy now.”

Then the line went dead.

Seriously? He hung up just like that?

I stared at my phone, dumbfounded. Wu Yong was as unreliable as ever—he hadn’t even explained what was going on before hanging up.

Sighing, I redialed.

“Hello, Wu Yong? Um… could you at least tell me what kind of job this is?” I asked as soon as he picked up.

“Man, you sure are long-winded. Just get here!” he retorted, clearly impatient.

“No, seriously, give me some basics so I know what tools to pack,” I pressed.

“You’re such a hassle! It’s a haunted house, alright? A haunted house! Just get going! That’s it!” he snapped.

The call cut out again. I shook my head in resignation.

A haunted house? What kind? I’m supposed to head over with no information at all?

And we haven’t even discussed payment.

Haunted houses come in all varieties—some are due to bad geomancy, some are haunted by vengeful spirits, others are the result of human malice.

With at least a basic description, I could make a preliminary assessment. If it’s something beyond my ability, I won’t end up ruining my reputation. Now that my mentor is gone, I have only myself to rely on. I can’t afford to mishandle a job and lose all future work.

So, I called Wu Yong again.

“Brother Wu Yong, you have to give me the basics, or I’m not coming!” I blurted as soon as the call connected.

“Xiao Wei, you’re such a nag. Didn’t I tell you? Haunted house! Haunted house! Just a haunted house!” he said, even more impatient.

“What kind of haunted house? Tell me!” I quickly added, afraid he’d hang up again.

“A killer house—people keep dying in there! In just a few days, five or six deaths already! That’s the situation. Get over here now!” Wu Yong said.

And once again, the call was cut off...