Back in the day, many descendants of the Ye family were scattered outside the main lineage, but few lived as wretchedly as Ye Shaohua.
She was truly alone—parentless and constantly schemed against.
The Fourth Miss and others, however, were different. Their parents were still alive; they just hadn’t reconnected with the Ye family. But let’s be honest—no member of the Ye family was truly useless. Even if they settled in just a moderately prosperous location, they’d live comfortably.
“The Eldest Young Master wouldn’t bother with such trivial matters.” Uncle Ye wasn’t blind to the Fourth Miss’s implications, but he couldn’t be bothered with these petty games among the girls.
In the following days, the Second Miss and the others hurriedly followed a group of masters, carrying compasses to survey sites.
Occasionally, Ye Shaohua overheard the Fourth Miss mention that the family had taken in quite a few descendants—six in total, five of whom were women.
Thanks to her parents’ teachings in feng shui, the Fourth Miss had connections. Meanwhile, Ye Shaohua was practically invisible to everyone.
People frowned when they saw her clutching The Origins of Feng Shui. The Ye family was blessed by destiny—even a three-year-old could sense ghostly energy or recognize a feng shui formation. Yet, Ye Shaohua was… an anomaly.
Then, on the third day, the Ye family’s Eldest Young Master arrived.
He didn’t come alone. A close friend accompanied him—one so distinguished that even Uncle Ye and the high-status Second Miss weren’t granted an audience.
As an elder brother meeting his sister for the first time (though not by blood), he brought a gift: “These are two talismans I obtained from Abbot Lin of Qingyang Temple.”
Those in their profession often faced karmic backlash for meddling with fate. Peering too deeply into the heavens’ secrets came with a price—the Three Deficiencies and Five Calamities.
The Five Calamities: widowhood, orphanhood, loneliness, disability, and sterility.
The Three Deficiencies: wealth, life, and power.
Divine retribution was inevitable. Whether through physical flaws, severed familial bonds, or a life of poverty and early death—everyone bore at least one of these curses.
Yet, the Ye family had thrived for generations. Their lineage remained unbroken, safeguarded by ancestral artifacts and secret methods to obscure the heavens’ gaze.
The Eldest Young Master glanced at his third sister. Uncle had mentioned her tragic upbringing and her recent obsession with studying feng shui.
He wasn’t concerned.
The art of feng shui was already in decline. Even if Ye Shaohua carried her father’s legacy, she posed no threat. The feng shui world had few true masters, and she was a latecomer—nothing extraordinary.
“The innermost room on the second floor belongs to my friend. He prefers quiet, so stay on the first floor. Don’t disturb him.” After issuing orders, the Eldest Young Master dismissed everyone. They had an early start tomorrow—helping a family relocate ancestral graves. “And no matter what you hear tonight, do not leave your rooms.”
That night, everyone retired early—even the usually talkative Fourth Miss left Ye Shaohua alone.
Uncle Ye had brought her a stack of books, mostly miscellaneous feng shui theories with few substantial texts. For most, these wouldn’t be enough to grasp true feng shui.
But Ye Shaohua wasn’t most people.
The books she’d acquired from the [System] were treasures beyond this world’s knowledge—let alone the mystical talismans she possessed. What she lacked wasn’t technique, but an understanding of the feng shui world itself.
So she didn’t mind Uncle Ye’s selection. By the time she finished reading, she had a clearer picture of the Ye family and feng shui—though their enemies remained a mystery. The past had been erased from records.
Late that night, the Eldest Young Master and the Second Miss suddenly stirred from their rooms.
At the same time, Ye Shaohua felt a chill crawl up her spine—the unmistakable sensation of being watched.
Her instincts were sharp.
[Don’t turn around.] 008 shut its eyes.
Too late.
Ye Shaohua had already looked.
Lying beside her pillow was… something. Not human. A figure clad in ancient bridal robes, its hollow eye sockets staring directly at her.
No eyes. Just darkness.
Even Ye Shaohua broke into a cold sweat.
“I’m so cold… so cold…” A ghostly female voice whispered.
It sounded… oddly pleasant.
“And?” Ye Shaohua deadpanned.
“Will you… lend it to me?”
“Lend what?”
The ghostly face suddenly twisted toward her. “YOUR BODY!”
Ye Shaohua: “…”
The entity lunged—only to be repelled by the jade pendant at Ye Shaohua’s neck.
Calmly, she rose, straightened her clothes, and glanced at the ancient mirror in the corner.
“My mistake,” she sighed.
Ghost & Mirror: “…?”
“I shouldn’t have called you ugly.”
There was always something worse.
The ghost’s face contorted in rage. A surge of dark energy shot toward Ye Shaohua just as footsteps pounded down the stairs.
The room erupted into chaos—tables overturned by an unnatural wind. Without hesitation, Ye Shaohua pulled out two talismans and a self-crafted artifact, sealing the shrieking ghost into the mirror.
The door burst open.
The Eldest Young Master, Second Miss, and Uncle Ye stood outside, their feng shui formations still active. The eerie wind outside howled, but the entity never arrived—distracted by the commotion in Ye Shaohua’s room.
“Are you alright?” The Eldest Young Master frowned.
“Fine,” Ye Shaohua replied smoothly. “Just startled by the noise outside.”
His expression tightened, but he said nothing.
Only the Second Miss shot her a disgusted glare. “Useless.”
