Tales of Folk Feng Shui Mysteries

The white snake lay coiled lazily, flicking its tongue with an indifferent air, clearly unimpressed by Xie Bi'an's threats. No matter how hard I tried to figure it out, I still couldn't understand how Yuan Beitang managed to summon it.

Even Fan Wujiu stepped forward to persuade it, but regardless of what either of them said, the white snake remained unmoved. Then, as I watched the ashes rising from the paper money being burned beneath Jiang Shiyu's large photo—right in the fire basin where her father knelt—I suddenly realized something: the paper wasn't for the dead. It was an offering of merit to the white snake.

It hit me: Yuan Beitang must've spoken with the snake beforehand. A white snake with a horn was clearly nearing the stage of transforming into a jiao (蛟)—a proto-dragon. Such creatures typically live in remote caves or hidden spiritual realms, cultivating in solitude. For them, the merit offered by mortals could be immensely beneficial in overcoming future tribulations.

Then another thought struck me. Could this be… the legendary "Pearl of Hunbei" my grandfather once told me about? Given how close Yuan Beitang was with Grandpa, they surely knew about the little white snake beneath the dragon's nest. Without serious fate and connection, finding it would've been impossible.

"Lord Chang, are you truly determined to protect this household?" Xie Bi'an's voice now held a sharp edge.

The white snake, however, continued to ignore him completely.

That's when both Xie Bi'an and Fan Wujiu exchanged a glance, and in perfect unison, they turned to the snake and asked sternly: "This is your last chance—are you moving, or not?"

Suddenly, the snake raised its head high. I swear, anyone who met its gaze would've felt a chilling cold pierce straight through their soul.Fan Wujiu shook his Soul-Chasing Rod three times. A wave of dizziness surged in my head, but the searing heat from the sacred relic in my chest instantly cleared my mind.

A howling wind swept past my ears as two streaks of light—one black, one white—rushed at the white snake. From below, the rest of the underworld enforcers surged up like a tidal wave toward the corridor.A clash was imminent.

I seized the moment, ready to rush into Jiang Shiyu's home. But just then, that little white snake expanded in a flash—its massive body now filled the entire hallway.

The sound of clashing shadows erupted—black and white for death and pursuit—leading hundreds of enforcers in a frenzied assault.

But at that instant, the giant white snake transformed into a beam of light and shot through the building's window. As it vanished, I heard White Wuchang shout:

"Catch that white snake! Dammit—it left its real body and dragon saliva behind to seal the door!"

Dragon saliva—as the name suggests—is a substance of extreme pure yang energy. It's produced when a snake grows a horn, a clear sign of it becoming a jiao. In ancient belief, a jiao (蛟) is not a small dragon, as commonly mistaken, but a snake that has cultivated into a proto-dragon.

Its real body—or more precisely, its shed skin—also contains intense yang energy. Leaving behind both items at the door created a powerful blockade that not even underworld agents could cross. The snake didn't want any more trouble—it simply made its exit.

Now you might ask: couldn't the enforcers just pass through walls?According to mythology, all malevolent or spirit-based beings must enter through the front door. Only official underworld agents—when on official duties—are allowed to bypass this rule. So, yes, even in the supernatural realm, "a man's home is his castle" holds true.

What happened next was almost comical. As if I'd been completely forgotten, both the black and white reapers—along with all the enforcers—rushed after the white snake, leaving me behind.

I stood in stunned silence for a good thirty seconds before I could even believe it.

Finally stepping through the door, I spotted the shed snakeskin right at the threshold. That inconspicuous sliver of white had just single-handedly held back an entire army of underworld agents.

The fire basin under the memorial still burned. Jiang Shiyu's parents sat nearby, faces streaked with tears, their expressions dazed and shaken.

"Uncle?" I waved gently.

He screamed, swinging the willow-branch whip in his hand. "Stay away from my daughter! Get out—all of you!"

Shiyu's mother rushed forward to hold him, shouting "Calm down!" several times in his ear before he finally regained his senses.

She was still holding together better than him, so I asked her what had happened.

She told me that not long after we left, a small white snake slithered into the home. Yuan Beitang had previously told them that if the white snake ever came, they were to prepare wine, pastries, and vegetarian dishes.

So they did everything he had instructed. Her husband continued burning paper, and all the ashes fluttered toward where the white snake lay coiled. For over an hour, the snake quietly stayed in place, then crawled into the bedroom and disappeared into the wooden chest where Jiang Shiyu lay.

But then, right at midnight, someone barged into the house—demanding to know where Jiang Shiyu was.

Knowing they were dealing with a ghost, her father didn't say a word—he just started whipping.