Tales of Folk Feng Shui Mysteries

I opened my phone messages, and a familiar yet distant name popped up once more—Jiang Shiyu. The text was simple, but it stirred something deep inside me, though the Daoist robes I wore seemed to bind my emotions tightly again.

"Dabao, I'm going abroad to clear my mind. I'll wait for you at that intersection in two years."

A few brief sentences carried a sense of helplessness and resignation. But wasn't I the same? My Daoist path had trapped me, keeping me from everything—even as I feared the agony of spiritual punishment that came with breaking my vows, I chose to avoid thinking about what we once had.

I touched the silver talisman hanging around my neck, took a deep breath, and silently recited a calming mantra. Riding the horse cart out of the mountains, the old village head sighed beside me, "Master, do you think my son will ever get married?"

I couldn't say. What girl would willingly marry someone who'd become simple-minded?

But then he added grimly, "If it comes to it, I'll just spend some money to buy him a wife."

His serious tone made it clear he wasn't joking. I immediately warned him: "Sir, buying and selling people is a crime—and it brings terrible karma. Don't add more sin to your family."

"But if our Ma family has no descendants, that's no good either." He took a few puffs on his pipe, then continued, "That old bachelor in the village bought himself a wife before, you know. Look at him now, living sturdier than any of us. Master, tell me—does Heaven really punish evil? So many do bad things, but it's always us law-abiding folks who suffer. Back in the day, I'd have tied that old bachelor up and beaten him until he confessed where his son was hiding—but now the man's run off, and the police won't do anything without evidence. My poor daughter… sigh."

I was shocked—did the old shepherd really buy a wife at his age?

A few more questions revealed the story: his wife had died young, and he lived in poverty alone. Then one day he unearthed valuable antiques in his field and sold them for a fortune. He used the money to build a house in a nearby area. But his son was a notorious scoundrel, lazy, a thief, and a womanizer—he often sneaked into widows' homes, nearly getting himself killed several times.

Lonely and newly rich, the old shepherd bought a wife. But the woman soon fled. Undeterred, he spent another 30,000 yuan on a second bride. Within two years, she too ran away. Now he lived alone, tending sheep, his son having nearly ruined everything.

The story shocked me—two bought brides, both escaping? That's rare in rural areas; anyone who spends thousands on a wife usually keeps her under tight watch.

I recalled Big Tooth's strange disappearance and that suspicious old Daoist. A thought struck me: what if the shepherd knew that old Daoist?

"Sir, hurry up—get us back to the village quickly. I'm worried something might've happened at the temple," I urged.

The village head cracked the reins, urging the horse forward. The cart's wheels groaned as if they might snap at any moment. Not long into our dash, he suddenly yanked the reins tight, pointing ahead in alarm: "M-master, there's… there's a fox!"

Indeed, in the middle of the road lay a gray fox, its large, almost human-like eyes fixed on me. Its tail swished side to side, as if it had been waiting for us.

I understood instantly—this fox had likely gained some cultivation. I told the village head to stop the cart, got down, and stood before the fox, hands behind my back. I shouted sternly, "Why are you blocking my way?"

As soon as I spoke, the fox rose, revealing a cloth pouch beneath its belly. It picked it up with its mouth, brought it to my feet, then bowed by lowering its forepaws. I bent down, opened the pouch—and was shocked to find three gold bars inside.

I stared at the fox for a long moment. I could see it hadn't cultivated enough to take human form, and its aura reeked of sinister energy—its eyes gleamed viciously. Truly cultivated beasts have gentle eyes; only those on the path to becoming demons show such malice.

"You're here to plead on behalf of that giant snake, aren't you?" I said.

The fox lowered its head and knocked it against the ground a few times, like kowtowing. I sneered. The Eight Trigrams Soul-Nailing Stakes had sealed the shadow temple—once the Tai Sui was disturbed, the snake would be doomed.

I tossed the gold bars back toward the fox and scoffed, "When Heaven brings calamity, there's hope of survival. But bring disaster upon yourself, and there's no escape! Tell that snake demon to give up. Heaven's might is vast, the sun and moon see all—hiding in a temple won't save it. As for you, I'll spare you for the sake of your hundred years of cultivation. But if you insist on harming humans, don't blame me for destroying your soul!"

The fox never raised its head. Only because it had no murderous intent did I leave it be. It bowed once more before scampering into the forest. The village head stared in shock, pointing after it, "That beast… it understands human speech?"

I nodded and urged him to drive on. Night was falling, and as we neared the village's edge, the sky filled with the same cawing of crows we'd heard before approaching the temple. Watching the crows flit overhead, I glared and said coldly, "One more word out of you, and I'll pluck every feather off your body!" Then I flicked a jujube pit up at them.

Sure enough, the cawing ceased instantly. I smirked inwardly—so the snake demon, realizing bribery had failed, now sent crows to steal my soul.

Back in the village, a pungent smoke greeted us. I jumped from the cart and headed straight for the temple, telling the village head to follow with others. As we approached, I saw the Soul-Nailing Stakes blazing brightly, and a few young men laughing casually outside. Seeing nothing had gone wrong, I finally relaxed and lit a few cigarettes by the roadside.

A few minutes later, I glimpsed a figure sneaking near the stakes. I crushed my cigarette and hurried over. It was the old shepherd, holding a pair of scissors, trying to cut the red string around the stakes!

That couldn't be allowed. If the string was severed, the snake would sense it immediately and might emerge to attack me—and I was just a folk Daoist, practically helpless against such a powerful demon.

The shepherd hadn't noticed me yet. I stepped forward, snatching the scissors from his hands with an icy glare. "In such a rush to cut my Soul-Nailing Stakes—what are you trying to do?"

He forced a smile. "No, no, I was just passing by… these scissors are for shearing sheep, that's all."

I sneered. "You were the first to make a deal with that evil temple, weren't you? Don't bother denying it. You had your son lure live victims for sacrifice. When he got scared of the temple's spirits, fate brought him to me instead—am I wrong?"

"W-what nonsense! I'm just a poor old shepherd, I don't know what you're talking about," he feigned ignorance.

I didn't waste more words. As villagers arrived with the village head, the shepherd tried to bolt, but I grabbed him. "Stay put. You're not getting away. We'll all go together—and you've done far worse than you're letting on."

"I'm just a shepherd—what could I have done? Let me go, or I'll lie down right here and call the police!" he threatened.

I chuckled darkly. "You won't need to—I'll call them myself."

As the village head and the others reached us, I pointed to the shepherd. "Tie him up—this old man's responsible for multiple deaths. We can't let him get away."

"Wh-what? I don't know what you're talking about!" the shepherd stammered.

He was stubborn, but the village head had seen the fox and knew I wasn't speaking nonsense. He ordered a few young men to tie the shepherd up, though he whispered to me anxiously, "Master, this is modern times—tying someone up could get me in legal trouble."

"Relax. When we check his house, you'll see you've done the right thing—and you'll be hailed a hero," I assured him.

He looked confused but followed me, along with dozens of curious villagers. We soon reached the shepherd's house, where we found Zhao Dadan snoring in the yard. I lifted his eyelids—he was out cold, like a dead pig. A few strong lads carried him inside.

I told everyone to quiet down, then closed my eyes, sensing the air currents inside the house. Any house with a hidden tunnel will have a subtle draft even when sealed. After half a minute, I pointed at the kang bed: "There's a tunnel entrance there—Big Tooth is inside."

The crowd erupted. The village head's relatives stormed forward, tearing up the kang's bedding until they uncovered a giant wooden plank. Two young men, furious at Big Tooth's crimes, volunteered to go down.

I also instructed others, "Wait by the sheep pen—its disturbed soil hides the tunnel's vent. Don't let anyone escape."

The villagers scrambled into action. Within ten minutes, they dragged Big Tooth up from the tunnel. The news that followed shocked even me: inside the tunnel, they'd found multiple women's clothes, ancient gold and silver artifacts, and four small rooms partitioned underground. Most shocking of all, they rescued a sixteen-year-old girl—the missing child from a nearby village who'd vanished a year ago.

With undeniable evidence, the villagers were outraged and demanded the father and son be handed over to the authorities.

Seeing they had no way out, the pair began blaming each other. The father cursed his son's recklessness, saying they could've gotten away with just a few live sacrifices each month, but the boy had foolishly involved a Daoist. The son sobbed, "The snake told me to find ten people, or it would kill me—I was scared!"

Their confessions gave me a clear picture of what had happened. But before we could leave, something even stranger occurred…