Ning Zhou opened his mouth to argue, but Ye Shaohua shook her head at him.
“The master is always right.” Reassured, he decided to wait patiently.
Ye Shaohua observed the so-called “Master Ku” closely. When he chanted an incantation and burned a talisman, she scrutinized the paper and realized—it wasn’t even a legitimate talisman.
She was momentarily speechless.
After Master Ku’s theatrical performance, Grandpa Ning still hadn’t woken up. The master sighed dramatically. “Mr. Ning, the vengeful spirit haunting your father is too powerful. I’m afraid—”
“Please, Master, save him! I’ll add another 300,000 yuan!”
At the mention of money, Master Ku’s eyes lit up—though he hid it quickly. He’d noticed Ning Zhou had brought another “master.” But when he saw Ye Shaohua’s youthful face, he dismissed her entirely.
“What kind of scammer doesn’t even bother dressing the part? No robes, no aura of wisdom—just a young girl. Who’d believe her?”
He scoffed inwardly. “As if she’s the real deal.”
When Ning Zhou’s father ordered his secretary to transfer more money to the fraud, Ning Zhou finally intervened. “Dad, since he’s useless, let Master Ye try.”
Ning’s parents were exasperated by their son’s recklessness.
Master Ku, oozing false magnanimity, gestured for Ye Shaohua to proceed. “By all means, let’s see what you can do.” He didn’t believe she’d achieve anything.
The room still held Master Ku’s incense altar, but Ye Shaohua ignored it. Instead, she studied the room’s layout.
To her eyes, the entire space was thick with malignant energy—the same energy clinging to Ning Zhou.
She pulled out a secondhand compass she’d bought at a flea market and fiddled with it.
Master Ku sneered. “Don’t tell me this is your first time using a compass?”
Ye Shaohua: “…Just shut up.”
His remark made Ning’s parents even more skeptical.
But then—Ye Shaohua’s demeanor shifted. Her presence turned commanding. She pointed at a Buddha statue in the room. “When was this placed here?”
“My father collects these. A friend gifted it to him,” Ning’s father admitted.
Ye Shaohua nodded. Without explaining, she paced the room, measuring distances with her steps. Her movements carried an air of authority.
Then she walked out—straight to the villa’s front gate.
Master Ku and the Nings followed, curious about her next “trick.”
Ye Shaohua stopped at a spot near the entrance and pointed at the ground. “Dig here.”
It wasn’t a difficult request. Under Master Ku’s mocking gaze, Ning’s father had servants excavate the spot. When they unearthed a wooden box, the family paled.
Ning’s father trembled as he held the box—icy to the touch. Inside were four pitch-black coffin nails.
Even in sunlight, the nails radiated chilling energy.
“M-Master Ye,” Ning’s father stammered, “what are these?”
“Your father’s headaches began a month ago, correct? Think—who have you offended recently? Someone spent great effort to set up a curse here, aiming to destroy your family.” She pointed to three other spots.
Sure enough, three more coffin nails were found.
“Coffin nails are vessels of extreme yin energy. Even without a curse, prolonged exposure would harm your mental state. I assume your family’s luck has been terrible lately.” She handed them talismans. “Place these where the nails were. The energy will disperse. Also, remove that Buddha statue—it was taken from a graveyard and never purified. Its energy has been pouring malice into your father’s body.”
The moment the statue was moved, Grandpa Ning woke up, dazed.
The Ning family hailed Ye Shaohua as a true master. Master Ku? He’d already slunk away in shame.
“Master Ye, let Ning Zhou drive you home.” Ning’s father handed her a thick red envelope. She accepted it without ceremony.
During the ride, Ning Zhou buzzed with excitement but held back, intimidated by Ye Shaohua’s aloofness.
When they arrived, Ye Shaohua stepped out—just as Lin Weiwei returned with a friend.
“Weiwei, look! A Maserati!” her friend squealed.
Lin Weiwei’s face darkened when she recognized the driver. “What is Ye Shaohua doing with him?”
Ye Shaohua, oblivious (or indifferent) to Lin Weiwei’s glare, reached her apartment. She sensed multiple presences inside before even opening the door.
She turned the key.
The sight of several strangers in her home didn’t surprise her.
A middle-aged man—clearly someone of high status—spoke first. “Miss Ye, as your elder, I’ve come to take you back to the family.” His gaze lingered on the jade pendant around her neck.
A young woman on the sofa wrinkled her nose at the modest apartment. “Uncle Ye, enough talk. The head ordered her retrieval. Just drag her back like the others.”
The man sighed, almost pitying. “Miss Ye, come with us. You’ll never have to live like this again.”
Ye Shaohua’s expression didn’t flicker.
