Chapter 351

Uncle Zhang didn't take us directly to see Chen Zheng; instead, he led us to a small mahjong parlor located on the street. He told us he couldn't even learn this person's real name, only knowing the surname was Fan and the nickname was Wuchang.

He was Dongling's first red pole; the red pole is one of the gang's positions, grass shoes are the recorder, white paper fan is the treasurer, and the red pole is the chief enforcer.

However, Fan Wuchang's identity is not as simple as an enforcer; he is Chen Zheng's confidant, the first assassin of the Dongling dynasty. Wherever he goes, like the Black Impermanence Fan Biji under the King of Hell's seat, he silently harvests enemies' souls souls.

Uncle Zhang respectfully pushed open the mahjong parlor's door and entered. The whole parlor had only one table. Uncle Zhang walked over to a young man in black clothes, leaned in and whispered two words to his ear, then gestured for us three to come over, saying, "Come over, all of you."

I, Pangzi, and Yuan Qiu walked up and stood before the youth in black. This black-clad youth looked only about twenty-five or twenty-six, but he gave an impression of great steadiness; his gaze was as deep as an abyss, unfathomable.

"You said the feng shui masters are these two?" Fan Wuchang spoke, furrowed his brow, his voice slightly displeased. Outsiders usually judge us by age; most people think the older one is, the greater the skill, while the younger ones are merely novices.

Without a doubt, when we first met, Fan Wuchang also inevitably fell into this common flaw.

Facing Fan Wuchang's inquiry, Uncle Zhang dared not be careless; he cautiously pointed at us and explained. Uncle Zhang said, although we are young, we are all legitimate direct disciples of an orthodox sect, our skills are in no way inferior to those old-timers.

Uncle Zhang's somewhat embellished description did not make Fan Wuchang believe it lightly; he waved his hand and, offhand, pushed a one-bamboo tile onto the mahjong table.

Yet this simple action made my heart tighten; my first conclusion about Fan Wuchang was that he was an expert, with no alternative.

This seemingly careless push of the mahjong tile landed silently, without a sound. This was not done deliberately, but rather a habit formed in daily life.

From this phenomenon, one can analyze that Fan Wuchang is at least an internal martial arts expert; relying solely on his control of this force, not to mention ordinary people, even someone who has trained for decades might not be able to do it.

"I don't like to speak empty words; capable people needn't hide their abilities. Since Old Zhang says you have skills, show me two hands!" Fan Wuchang said while pushing the tiles, slowly lighting a cigarette.

I asked him, "How do you want to test?"

He turned his head, gazing at me calmly, yet I felt like a beast was staring at me, my whole body went numb; the Daoist's spiritual sense told me that Fan Wuchang was a ferocious wolf hiding in sheep's clothing, his gaze already locked on you—whether night or day, you have nowhere to escape.

Just as my palm was practically sweating, Fan Wuchang shrugged, gave a natural smile, and said while holding the tiles in both hands, "This is the fourth round; I've lost over ten thousand. If you can let me win today, that will naturally prove yourself. If you can't let me win..."

Pangzi and I felt our hearts tighten, thinking he was about to threaten us, but instead he shrugged and smiled, saying, "It's fine if you can't make me win; you were introduced by Old Zhang, I won't make things difficult for you."

I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief; this feeling of first interacting with gang members really made me feel extremely awkward.

I said to him, "First give me your eight characters; you don't need the exact hour, just the year will do."

Fan Wuchang gave me a number; I calculated in my mind using the method of male life 100 minus birth year divided by nine, and concluded he was an Eastern Four Li Fire destiny.

Looking at today's old lunar calendar, he is undergoing the Western Dui Metal fortune. This is already not a good day for gambling for him, and moreover, it's coincidental that he sits in the northern Kan position; north belongs to Kan Water. Although water and wood can drain metal, they also suppress fire energy, so he is certain to lose today in gambling, but he won't lose too much.

Following the usual practice, I would certainly have him wash his hands and face and change seats. But this method is too old-fashioned; anyone can change rounds and luck. Moreover, after switching seats, someone who was originally winning would turn into a loser and would not accept it.

So I rejected this method directly; however, besides this simple method, what other way could actually help him?

At that moment, Pangzi also whispered in my ear: "The Li Da Guo hexagram; Li Fire is overcome by Dui Metal. Although there is Zhen Wood giving life, the wood qi is too weak to drain the metal qi, nor can it raise the fire qi."

"How? You wouldn't be thinking of letting Brother Wuchang change seats to shift his luck, would you? If so, I'd be happy to give him my seat." The Pangzi sitting in the eastern position, cigar in mouth, joked.

I lightly laughed, shook my head, and walked out of the mahjong parlor amid their puzzled gazes.

"What is this kid up to? Can't think of a solution, so he wants to run away?"

"Who knows? If making money were that easy, masters would be everywhere in this world; Brother Zheng's looked-at gambling halls would have long been losing money."

Just as I stepped out of the mahjong parlor, I still heard the teasing coming from inside.

Five minutes later, I turned back amid their astonished gazes, and before Fan Wuchang could even react, I slipped something into his pocket.

"Is what you stuffed into me useful?" Fan Wuchang asked doubtfully; he was very proud, not asking what I had stuffed in, nor fearing I would harm him.

I smiled and replied, "Keep playing; when it ends at five, you will definitely win money!"

"Haha, you little brat, what do you think our Brother Wuchang is? Just stuffing something in and you'll win money—who are you trying to fool?"

"Shut up," Fan Wuchang glanced at the thick‑eyebrow Pangzi who had spoken mockingly, and calmly said, "Keep playing."

"Hai Sheng, what did you stuff into him, will it work?" Yuan Qiu came over, worried, and while wiping sweat from his forehead, speechlessly watched Pangzi sitting at the Eight Immortals table, happily eating and drinking.

I patted his shoulder, blinked, and posed a riddle: "Just watch the show!" After saying that, I also ran over to Pangzi, casually grabbed a barbecued pork bun, and stuffed it into my mouth.

"Hai Sheng, try this shrimp dumpling; it tastes the same as the one from Xiguan's Taotaoju!" Pangzi casually picked up a shrimp dumpling, put it in another bowl, and placed it before me.

"En..." Suddenly, Fan Wuchang grunted, seeming slightly dissatisfied.

I walked behind him and saw that his hand was terrible—thirteen tiles, with characters, bams, dots, and all the winds, neither forming sets nor pairs; it was practically a worthless hand.

Even Uncle Zhang, upon seeing this hand, couldn't help but wipe sweat, anxiously asking me, "Hai Sheng, are you really sure this will work?"

"It will work, no problem!" I comforted him; actually my heart was also quite conflicted now, but I couldn't show the slightest timidity, otherwise Yuan Qiu and Uncle Zhang would also become afraid.

Time trickled by, and Fan Wuchang, who had gotten the bad hand, was actually the first to go out; although it was a chicken win, it was still better than nothing.

Opposite Fan Wuchang's seat was a shutter, which was closed, preventing outside sunlight from entering. At the moment Fan Wuchang went out, Pangzi rose, walked over to that spot, opened the shutter, and let sunlight pour into the room.

He then walked back to the Eight Immortals table, sat down, exchanged a smile with me, and continued lowering his head to eat shrimp dumplings.

Over the next few hours, the goddess of fortune seemed to continually favor Fan Wuchang; the whole table saw only him winning, and although he remained calm, the exclamations of the three beside him already showed that Fan Wuchang had turned from a loser into a winner.

"All right, no more playing… that's it!" After only two hours, Fan Wuchang pushed the tiles, declaring the game over. On his table were stacked several piles of Australian dollars, roughly amounting to a hundred thousand.

Fan Wuchang called back the other three players, came to me, and took out the thing I had just stuffed into his pocket—it turned out to be four leaves.

He looked doubtful at the four leaves and asked me, "Are these leaves really miraculous?" Then he turned and pointed at the shutter, asking, "What was the use of Little Fat opening that shutter just now?"

Pangzi and I exchanged a smile and then slowly explained the purpose of these things to him.

The four leaves are the Xun number of the Bagua; Xun belongs to wood, and the leaves are also wood. He is a Li Fire destiny; today he is undergoing the Dui Metal fortune, and fire is punished by metal. His seat belongs to Kan Water; although it drains metal, it also suppresses fire. The use of the four leaves, according to the theory of mutual generation and restriction of the Five Elements, is to borrow wood to aid fire and suppress the Dui Metal.

This is the foundation of the study of changes, but it is also the most primitive and genuine thing. Any geomancy is actually based on the mutual generation and overcoming of the Five Phases, and the transformation of yin and yang, to adjust. If one does not understand these things and rashly practices geomancy for others, then bringing benefit will turn into causing harm, and reading feng shui will become harmful.

Speaking of Pangzi, the reason he went to open that window was because he had sharp eyes; at a glance he saw that the louvered window was the Azure Dragon opening of this mahjong parlor, and the Azure Dragon opening directly faced Fan Wuchang. Although it is said that when the Azure Dragon takes charge, it's like a fish in water, the previous few hours the dragon was a Golden Dragon, which governs power and influence; opening it then would have been useless. At the moment Fan Wuchang won a hand, the hour happened to pass that point, the Golden Dragon turned into a Wood Dragon, so Pangzi seized the opportunity and promptly opened the louvered window.

This seemingly simple action actually contains profound principles. Without a doubt, Pangzi is superior to me; in geomancy, besides theory, what matters more is eyesight—a keen-eyed Daoist can, upon arriving at a place, instantly discern its layout orientation and the auspiciousness or inauspiciousness of its land and water; in this regard, I am indeed inferior to Pangzi.

Just as I finished explaining, a hint of a smile crossed Fan Wuchang's stern face, and he said to me and Pangzi: "I like your frankness."

Then he also said to Zhang Shu: "Old Zhang, you go back first; I'll take care of receiving these few people."

"Alright, then please trouble Brother Wuchang to say a few more good words in front of Brother Zheng. Even if we can't get a good feng shui reading, don't make things difficult for these young people." Zhang Shu lit a cigarette for Fan Wuchang, then gave us a few more reminders, and walked out of the mahjong parlor.

Fan Wuchang took a puff of his cigarette, turned his head, and still in a calm tone said to us: "Let's go; I'll take you to a place."

At that moment, a pale-faced red-haired youth rushed into the mahjong parlor; upon seeing Fan Wuchang, he panicked and shouted.

"Brother Chang, oh no, there's a ghost, there's a ghost!"