Chapter 319

After Gan Su Xin left, Pangzi and I also left.

Later, we heard that Su Zhiyuan had gone mad, like an idiot, constantly murmuring Gan Su Xin's name all day. He finally got his just deserts. Even if Gan Su Xin forgave him, Heaven would still not be merciful toward him.

Over the next few days, Pangzi and I idled away in Chan Yi Hall. On the first day, someone brought a letter from Yao Yirong inviting us to attend a gathering.

It was said that this little girl's birthday was coming up, and she asked some familiar classmates to go on a trip. To be honest, seeing that letter, my first feeling was fear, and also shame, wishing I could crawl into a hole.

The shame was certainly there, because the person who ruined my reputation wasn't Yao Yirong but that dead fatty. But before, I had thought it was Yao Yirong, so I harbored some resentment toward her. Now the misunderstanding is cleared, my shame is only natural.

But… I don't know why; in any case, I am just afraid—afraid to see her, even to hear her name. Don't ask me the reason; I myself don't know why I feel this way.

I originally didn't want to attend some weird gathering, but Pangzi said, she has already become your inner demon. If you don't apologize to her and make things clear, this sort of fear‑not‑quite‑fear feeling will likely linger in your heart, becoming an obstacle on your path to enlightenment and cultivation.

I didn't understand, but what Pangzi said seemed reasonable, so I agreed to him, and when the time came we would go together to Anhui to attend the gathering.

In his spare time, Pangzi bought a fine Hetian jade pendant and sent it to Seventh Uncle.

Two days before the gathering, Yuan Qiu again introduced us to a job: to do a feng‑shui reading for a client surnamed Chen. Let's just call him Mr. Chen for now.

Mr. Chen's home is in a fancy residential complex, presumably he is wealthy. After all, back then not every complex had elevators, and those that did were priced differently—more expensive.

When Pangzi and I rode the elevator up to his doorstep, we instantly noticed the problem.

Why? Because his front door directly faces the elevator's position. No need for a compass; anyone with a bit of perception can see at a glance that this is a type of feng‑shui shape sha.

In feng shui there is a rule about the flow of qi: "Auspicious qi moves in curves, while sha qi moves in straight lines."

The elevator door moves vertically, opening and closing like the mouth of a fierce tiger, and it is very noisy. When the door opens, sha qi flows straight into the house, affecting the whole household. This shape sha is called "open‑mouth sha" or "tiger‑mouth sha" in feng shui; it brings poor fortune to the master, invites gossip and disputes, and households afflicted by it usually have residents whose health is never at ease.

We knocked on the door, and a middle‑aged fatty greeted us—this fatty must be the client who summoned us, Mr. Chen.

However, the moment we stepped into Mr. Chen's house, we were instantly stunned.

Because after entering, we were blocked by a screen, so we couldn't see the full layout of the room. The screen's pattern is of a rather antiquated style, filling the whole house with poetic feeling. Moreover, hanging on the screen are two strings of ancient‑looking copper coins, the lower end of each string attached to a pure white jade pendant.

"Five Emperors' White Jade," Pangzi muttered under his breath.

These two strings of ornaments are exactly the feng‑shui object used to neutralize sha, the Five Emperors' White Jade. As mentioned before, the Five Emperors' coins, empowered by imperial authority, have the function of blocking sha and transforming petty villains. When paired with white jade, they not only strengthen the Five Emperors' power, neutralizing open‑mouth sha, Five Yellow and Two Black sha, etc., but also boost household wealth.

Moreover, these two solid‑wood carved screens are not mere decorations; in feng shui they have a name: the entrance vestibule.

Usually, to resolve this open‑mouth sha there are internal and external methods. Externally, hang Five Emperors' coins or a Bagua mirror on the door lintel. Internally, raise the threshold, or install an entrance vestibule to block the sha qi.

Nowadays the times are changing, every industry is evolving, and the feng‑shui profession is no exception. Everything is done from the most suitable angle to consider the client's needs.

If it were some government officials, or a rather upscale Western‑style building, hanging a Bagua mirror or a bronze sword would make laypeople think it feudal, while the latter would damage the building's appearance. Installing an entrance vestibule, on the one hand gives visitors a sense of entering a hidden realm as soon as they step inside, and on the other adds a touch of elegance to the house. Adding the two strings of Five Emperors' White Jade placed atop the vestibule, which matches the refined vestibule style—clear, lustrous white jade—complements the carved patterns on the screen, turning elegance into high elegance.

From this sha‑neutralizing method, two points are easy to see. First, the feng‑shui master who set up the vestibule for Mr. Chen is certainly not pedantic, and also takes others' psychology into account. Second, Mr. Chen's occupation is relatively respectable.

After some pleasantries, Mr. Chen got straight to the point, but what he said startled Pangzi and me.

"I believe you two junior masters have also noticed that my house suffers from tiger‑mouth sha; I am now worried about this matter, to the point that I can't sleep well." Mr. Chen rubbed his forehead and said this.

I blinked, thinking, "Hasn't this tiger‑mouth sha already been neutralized?"

Mr. Chen said, "It has been neutralized, that's true. But the problem lies in the neutralization of this tiger‑mouth sha: ever since the feng‑shui master installed the vestibule for him, he hasn't prospered; instead, his luck has only gotten worse."

I asked him to tell me the whole story—what exactly is going on.

Mr. Chen said that a few months ago he hired a feng‑shui master to come to his home for a reading, originally intending to remodel the kitchen. But when the master arrived, he said Mr. Chen's house had tiger‑mouth sha, and if they didn't promptly fix the doorway feng shui, he would be punished by the sha—his career would suffer, he'd run into official trouble, and even a White Tiger overhead could bring bloodshed.

After Chen Tiansheng (likely a typo for Mr. Chen) understood, he also realized it was indeed the case. Later, he promptly followed the master's instructions, installing the vestibule and the Five Emperors' White Jade, hoping to dispel the sha qi.

But what he hadn't expected was that, after his previously smooth life, problems appeared once he altered the feng shui to neutralize the tiger‑mouth sha. During this period, Mr. Chen first went to the hospital, then was swindled out of some money, and afterward at work he was scolded by his superiors for no reason, nearly getting demoted.

Pangzi and I were stunned, looking at each other—how could this perfectly fine sha‑neutralizing measure turn into a disaster?

Could it be…?

Pangzi paused, then asked, "Mr. Chen, what is your profession?"

Mr. Chen replied, "I am a surgeon."

I furrowed my brow; a surgeon works with blades year‑round, constantly in contact with metal instruments. Among those who suffer tiger‑mouth sha, there are a few professions that fear it not—doctors, butchers, and shops that sell knives and swords. These livelihoods rely on metal implements, and the elevator tiger‑mouth sha is also metal, so it poses no problem.

However, the most important factor is still determined by the client's Bazi. If the person's Bazi has weak Geng metal, then the tiger‑mouth sha will precisely compensate for that deficiency, making it harmless and even beneficial.

According to Mr. Chen, he had lived in this house for several years with no trouble at all. Until the feng‑shui master added the vestibule and neutralized the tiger‑mouth sha, after which he began a string of misfortunes.

Thus Pangzi and I suspected that Mr. Chen is someone whose innate Bazi has very weak Geng metal, and the feng‑shui master who altered his feng shui happened to overlook this fact.

Pangzi took Mr. Chen's Bazi and, using the Zi Ping method, calculated his four‑pillar chart.

Looking at it, I could hardly believe it—laughing and crying at the same time. This feng‑shui master actually forgot the most important, simplest rule of residential feng shui: judging whether a structural sha is harmful based on the client's Bazi.

Mr. Chen's Bazi belongs to the extremely metal‑deficient type. He is a Water person born in the Chou month, Wei hour; Chou month is the twelfth lunar month, which inherently stores Gui water. Meanwhile, Wei belongs to Ji earth, which restrains Gui water. This chart has strong sha but a weak body; if there were Geng metal in the Bazi to support the chart, it would be the chart's savior, because Geng is the proper seal of Gui, and earth produces metal, metal produces water. With Geng metal present, this pattern would be called "transforming sha into water (wealth)."

But Mr. Chen's Bazi is nothing but vast water and earth, completely lacking Geng metal. Without Geng metal penetrating the chart, both body and wealth struggle to flourish.

Therefore, for someone whose Bazi is extremely deficient in metal like Mr. Chen, the tiger‑mouth sha is not only harmless but actually beneficial. As for why he has been so unlucky lately, it is very likely due to that screen. The screen belongs to Wood, and Wood drains Metal qi; his chart already lacks Metal and dislikes Wood. Having installed such a feng‑shui vestibule in his home, it's no wonder he's been unlucky.

Pangzi and I reached a conclusion: let Mr. Chen remove the feng‑shui vestibule and the Five Emperors' White Jade, returning everything to how it originally was.

"Is that really enough?" Mr. Chen asked anxiously, pressing us: "Do we really not need to change anything else?"

Pangzi and I could only wryly smile and tell him, "Try my method for a while first. If you don't improve after some time, I'll come back and take a look. I will surely be able to settle this for you."

Later he kept asking over and over whether he needed to wear talismans or any other items. Pangzi and I, worn out by his persistence, finally agreed: let him prepare some metal jewelry, and after we consecrate it we will send it to him.

To be frank, having followed QingSongShu for so long, I have also seen some diviners and feng‑shui masters. They take perfectly healthy people and exaggerate the causes. They draw a couple of talismans for the client to wear, or claim to come for a feng‑shui look when only a minor adjustment is needed, yet they will undertake a massive project to alter some harmless, elegant spot. The reason is simple: it's easy to deceive people and make money that way.

Furthermore, some people nowadays feel uneasy if they don't spend a bit of wasted money or carry something around; their mind won't be at peace otherwise.

Actually, at its core, the Way of feng shui is inseparable from the simplest transformations of the Five Elements and the mutual generation of Yin and Yang. Everything has a simplest way of being handled, but people prefer to go around in circles, complicating simple matters, then solving them with complicated methods. Some feng‑shui masters do this to earn more money, while some peers are forced to. If you don't put on a show of complexity, people won't believe you. If you solve it simply, they still won't feel assured.

The former perhaps seeks to earn a little extra hard‑earned livelihood money on top of solving people's problems; the latter, bluntly, is people's suspicion at work—spending no money on a proper ritual makes them feel uneasy, and even after spending money they don't care whether it works. In short, they gain psychological comfort, and then things go much more smoothly.

Volume Three: Journey to Anhui