Chapter Ten: The Guardian Beast Bestows Fortune (Part One)

I glanced around the room, my eyes taking in the nearly perfect forgeries scattered everywhere. I shook my head at Thunder Yue, telling him that this trip was likely a waste—there was nothing of value here.

Zhong Weiguo, clearly feeling guilty, sauntered over to Thunder Yue, moving slowly and nonchalantly, idly fiddling with his Yixing teapot. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his tone thick with sarcasm.

"Chief Yue, I must admit, today I misjudged things. My eyes failed me—I didn't spot the truth of these items. But when it comes to people, it seems I've been blind my whole life. If I've offended you, I hope you'll forgive me."

His last words were meant for me. As I mulled over his meaning, I realized that if Thunder Yue hadn't brought me here today, the snakeskin bag in his hand would already belong to Zhong Weiguo.

While he spoke, I happened to catch sight of the exquisite little teapot in his hand, and my heart skipped a beat. I’d missed something—this piece was genuine. I quickly informed Thunder Yue, “That one’s real—the burlwood teapot! It's a famous make, a true rarity on the market, a treasure among treasures!”

Zhong Weiguo paused, glancing down at the teapot in his hand, his expression turning odd.

“Brother Qin, your vision is truly extraordinary,” he said, carefully handing the teapot to Thunder Yue. “Today I’ve been a poor host, Chief Yue. You came with high hopes only to leave disappointed. Here, a small token for you—think of it as my apology.”

Thunder Yue didn’t stand on ceremony. He hefted the teapot a few times, then reached into his snakeskin bag and pulled out a stack of cash.

“I’m not the sort to take advantage. If the item’s real, I’ll pay the proper price—not a cent less.”

“It’s my own failing,” Zhong Weiguo replied, pushing the money back. “Since you’ve taken a liking to it, how could I accept payment? Take it as a gesture of friendship.”

“Thunder, why bother being polite with someone like him?” Xiao Lianshan snapped, snatching the cash back and shoving it at Zhong Weiguo. “He’s up to no good, and who knows how much he’d have swindled from you if you’d come alone. Look at all this stuff—he’s set this place up to cheat people. He needs to be taught a lesson or he’ll never know his place. Giving him money is too kind. We can’t just let him get away with tricking us.”

I knew Xiao Lianshan’s temper well—he couldn’t stand injustice and never bothered to hide his anger.

“Let it go, Thunder. If Mr. Zhong wants to give you the teapot, just accept it. Lianshan, leave it be.”

“Let it go? Someone like him?” Xiao Lianshan, fuming, didn’t wait for me to finish before kicking and shoving, smashing everything in the room to pieces.

“Heh, these things only bring trouble anyway. He might not have fooled us today, but who knows how many others he’s cheated. Now I’ve destroyed the lot—let’s see how he keeps up his tricks.” Xiao Lianshan clapped his hands, righteous and unyielding.

I could tell things were about to go south. Thunder Yue, a man of principle after years on the streets, despised petty swindles. Riled up by Xiao Lianshan, he didn’t hesitate—he smashed the Yixing teapot as well.

“My brother’s right. If your hands are dirty, nothing you touch stays clean. I wouldn’t accept your gift even if you begged me. Zhong, I, Thunder Yue, am the one who broke your things today. If you’ve got a problem, come find me—I’ll be waiting. And listen well: you have two days to pack up and leave. If I see you on my turf after that, I’ll cover your coffin, your funeral wreath, and the cost of burying you.”

I watched Zhong Weiguo crouch silently, gathering the shards of the smashed teacup. When he finally stood, that strange smile was still fixed on his face.

“It was I who broke the rules, swaggering around in Chief Yue’s territory. I’ll do as you say,” he replied, removing his trademark sunglasses. His eyes, small and beady like a rat’s, squinted into slits under the weight of his cheeks—a sight that made my skin crawl.

I glanced at Zhong Weiguo and felt a chill. Quickly, I ran a calculation with my left hand, my fingers moving in a practiced pattern. The result stunned me. I couldn’t say much in front of him, but I gripped Thunder Yue’s arm tightly and said, “Thunder, it’s getting late and the rain’s made the roads bad. Let’s head back.”

Thunder Yue must have felt the pressure of my grip—a man seasoned by decades of danger would recognize a warning. He nodded silently and followed me out.

As we left the basement, Zhong Weiguo’s calm voice drifted after us. “The roads are slick in this weather—take care, all of you.”

I didn’t look back, only quickened my pace, dragging Thunder Yue out with me.

Outside in the yard, I took in the surroundings: an ordinary country courtyard, bamboo fencing enclosing the house, two tattered red lanterns dangling at the entrance, a blue stone slab shielding the rear, two stone tigers awkwardly flanking the main hall’s doorway, and the well sealed with a stone cover.

My anxiety mounted—I desperately hoped my earlier calculation was wrong, or we were in deep trouble. Again, I spread the fingers of my left hand and calculated. My thumb stopped atop my index finger—I felt a chill spread through me. I silently berated myself for being too careless.

Xiao Lianshan looked utterly lost. Seeing my grim expression, he realized something was wrong and asked what had happened. I didn’t have time to explain. I told Thunder Yue to give me the money. He handed over the snakeskin bag, and I grabbed a wad of cash, tearing it into shreds. Thunder Yue stared in disbelief as I handed him another stack, instructing him to do the same.

He hesitated, pained at the thought—even with his wealth, seeing money reduced to scraps must have hurt. But my urgency convinced him, and with a grimace, he began ripping the bills.

As I shredded the cash, I ordered Xiao Lianshan to open the stone cover on the well.

I gathered the torn money, then seized Thunder Yue’s hand. Before he could react, I bit his fingertip, drawing blood. He winced in pain as I dripped his blood onto the tattered bills.

From beside the hall, Xiao Lianshan called out that he’d opened the well. I told him to find a leaf and place it in the water.

Blood continued to well from Thunder Yue’s finger as I clutched his hand, tearing open his shirt and drawing a talisman on his chest, chanting softly:

“Holy Emperor of Thunder, far-off celestial lords,
Masters of divine generals, Deng, Xin, Zhang, Tao,
You warn of all evil, unpardoning to monsters and demons,
With a single thunderclap, all calamities are dispelled.”

As my chant ended, the talisman was complete.

Xiao Lianshan, puzzled, shouted from the well that the leaf had withered and was sinking after touching the water. My heart turned cold—I warned him not to touch the well water, for it was water of death and decay.

I gripped Thunder Yue’s wounded finger and dragged him to the well. I told Xiao Lianshan to pluck eight fresh leaves from the tree—no yellowing at all. He was to overlap them without the tips touching, pierce them together with a twig, smear Thunder Yue’s blood on it, and place the assembly into the well.

I placed some of the blood-soaked shreds in the right stone tiger’s mouth by the hall, then returned to the courtyard. There, I walked in a precise pattern, left hand forming the Three Purities Mudra, scattering the shredded money in a circuit around the yard. When I finished, a pattern had formed on the ground—lo and behold, it was the Earth Trigram.

“Brother, it’s floating!” Xiao Lianshan called out, “Just like you said, the eight leaves are crossed and overlapped, tips separate, bound by the twig with Thunder’s blood.”

Relief washed over me. I told Thunder Yue to sprinkle his blood over the bamboo fencing on both sides of the yard entrance. Thunder Yue glanced at his finger, the wound already congealed, and sighed, “There’s nothing left—it’s all gone.”

“Bite it open again. Squeeze out more,” I replied tersely.

“Bite it again? If I keep this up, I’ll bleed to death…” Thunder Yue looked bewildered.

I met his gaze, deadly serious, and told him, “Without your blood, you’ll die here today.”

Thunder Yue saw I wasn’t joking. He remembered the look on my face at his birthday—it was the same now. With a stomp and a grimace, he reopened the wound and smeared his blood on the bamboo.

“Lianshan, grab anything you can use as a weapon—help Thunder and get out of here now!”

“Weapons?” Xiao Lianshan instantly scanned the area, seized a wooden stick from the ground, propped Thunder Yue up, and hurriedly asked what was going on.

I did a final check of the yard, ensuring I’d left nothing undone, then explained, “I underestimated Zhong Weiguo. He’s no ordinary man—he almost fooled us.”

“That bastard—what’s he playing at?” Thunder’s temper flared again.

I snapped two branches from a tree, thrust them through both lanterns at the gate, and after confirming all was in place, finally replied, “He’s set a Pixiu Spitting Wealth formation!”

“Pixiu Spitting Wealth? Isn’t the Pixiu a beast of fortune?” Thunder Yue asked, perplexed.

As I hurried Thunder Yue toward the exit, I explained, “Feng Shui formations are endlessly intricate. The position of each item changes the outcome. Everyone knows Pixiu brings wealth, but few remember that Pixiu is, at its core, a ferocious beast. When the blades are raised, there are a million Pixiu.”

Thunder Yue didn’t fully understand, but my urgency told him how serious it was.

“Pixiu is said to take in wealth without letting it out—what’s ‘spitting wealth’ supposed to mean?”

I replied, “As the saying goes, ‘Men die for wealth, birds for food.’ The Pixiu Spitting Wealth formation spells disaster—fortune lost, life gone. Thunder, Zhong Weiguo aimed to kill you today.”