Chapter 28: The Beginning

“Is there any master of feng shui willing to give it a try?” After Bai Ranhe stepped back, Chen Yetian stood at the bow of the boat, exuding the air of a leader. Hands clasped behind his back, his bright eyes swept over the feng shui masters gathered on the vessel.

I was in no hurry to make a move myself; I wanted to see just how many among them possessed genuine skill.

“I, Blind Huang, will give it a try!” A hoarse voice rang out. A blind man in a yellow Taoist robe, carrying a peach-wood sword on his back and wearing a black cap, shuffled forward, feeling his way along the railing until he reached the bow.

Blind Huang, once at the bow, first drew the peach-wood sword from his back. Then, from within his robe, he produced three talismans, chanting an incantation: “Heaven and earth are inconstant, ill fortune disperses, the mighty gods of the eight directions grant me their favor, act swiftly as decreed!” When the incantation ended, he tossed the three talismans skyward. They ignited and burned to ash.

All eyes watched the three flames in the air, waiting for something extraordinary to happen. Yet as the talismans burned away, their ashes drifting down, nothing stirred.

Just as everyone suspected Blind Huang might have another trick up his sleeve, his tightly shut eyes twitched, and he asked, “So, did the boat move?”

“Damn you, are you here to perform a show?” snapped an ill-tempered feng shui master, who promptly drove the blind man away.

The next to step up was the very man who had sent Blind Huang packing—a bald monk clad in Buddhist robes. Though a monk, his face was fleshy and jowly, his frame rotund.

“Hey, monk! Why would a man of the cloth come to a matchmaking event? Don’t bring shame upon the Buddha!” several feng shui masters called out loudly.

The monk spat in their direction and retorted, “I can become a monk, and I can revert to layman’s life. Watch as I, Shi Lulong, move this boat with a single staff!” With that, he sat cross-legged and began chanting sutras.

Just as everyone thought he was another fraud, the staff on his back suddenly shot up—gleaming gold in the sunlight like an arrow—and plunged into the river, attempting to lever the ship.

Boom!

A tremendous sound erupted beneath the boat. For a moment, everyone thought the ship had been pried loose. But the monk spat a mouthful of blood; his staff had snapped in two as he tried to raise the vessel. The backlash shattered his bones, leaving him limp and broken on the deck. When he was carried to the ambulance, his body was twisted into a dreadful shape.

This monk clearly possessed some skill. With his ability to control the staff bare-handed, making a fortune would have been easy. Yet today, he had ruined his career utterly.

Seeing this display, the other talented feng shui masters, eager moments before, now drew back, unwilling to risk themselves.

When no one else dared to step forward, Chen Yetian turned to look at the figure hiding beneath a black cloak behind him. After the black-clad man nodded, Chen Yetian called out Chen Zhiqiang.

Under the blazing sun, with all eyes upon him, Chen Zhiqiang—a man dressed in a stylish black suit—strode forward. Without any preamble, he turned to several disciples of the Chen family and ordered, “Set up the altar.”

Four men swiftly pushed a table draped with black cloth to the very front of the bow. Chen Zhiqiang approached the spirit altar, while the four wrapped a black ribbon around it, forming a cordon.

I watched the spirit altar at the bow in silence. Upon it sat two memorial tablets, though their inscriptions were hidden beneath red cloth, making them impossible to read. Chen Zhiqiang called out loudly to the crowd along both banks, “The city canal of River Crossing is blocked—the work of evil forces! Today, I, Chen Zhiqiang, humbly invite the spirits to aid the Bai family and lift this crisis. If you witness anything strange, do not panic!”