Chapter 95: Finding Someone with a Compass

When I took over the mantle of the Ghost Sect, all I saw was a jade ruler. I always felt something was missing for a feng shui master—turns out, it was a compass.

I initially thought the Ghost Sect specialized in ghost-catching and didn’t need a compass.

The compass, also known as the luojing, is essential for both the qi-regulating and terrain-observing schools of feng shui. In the tradition of master-disciple inheritance, a compass is always passed down.

The Ghost Sect, however, has no tradition of compass inheritance, and not needing to learn it felt quite novel.

Qi Qiqi asked, “Do you know how to use a compass?”

I nodded and said, “Of course I do.” Qi Qiqi looked me up and down repeatedly. “Are you one of those legendary con artists? The kind who scams naive girls and gossiping aunties?”

I gave a wry smile. “The title doesn’t matter. Con artist or not, I’m actually a feng shui master.” Qi Qiqi clutched her stomach, laughing. “You, a feng shui master? That’s hilarious.”

I looked at her, annoyed. What’s so funny about that? Is there anything laughable about someone’s profession? Or is it because of my looks that I should be a male celebrity?

Being handsome, it seems, has become my burden. In the cardboard box, I also found a piece of paper that read, “Use it to find Xie Lingyu.” That was all—nothing else.

I toyed with the compass, observing the direction of its needle. In Jiang City, I had learned the basics of using a compass. As I fiddled with it, I noticed it was gilded with gold and had a patina of verdigris. This compass was a high-quality item, surely with a story behind it.

Seeing my serious expression, Qi Qiqi said, “Looks like you really are a con artist. I’m going to check if Bai Yueming is hungry and feed him.”

I mixed fresh blood with milk powder, put it in a bottle with a nipple, and placed it in Bai Yueming’s mouth. He opened his mouth to drink, eyes still closed, looking quite comfortable.

Once I got the hang of the compass, it was like using a new phone—I knew the manual’s contents and picked it up quickly. It could judge auspiciousness or act as a simple directional tool.

But using a compass to find someone? That was unheard of. It really stumped me. In the end, I decided to start with a simple divination to sense Xie Lingyu’s general direction, then use the compass to search more precisely. It would take some time, but it should be possible.

After pondering for an afternoon, I confirmed the direction, but it was already getting dark, so I decided to rest for the night and set out the next day. The following morning, as I left the shop, I ran into Zuo Shan limping toward me. He called out, “Xiao Qi, wait for me!”

I noticed Zuo Shan’s pale face; his prosthetic limb slowed him down considerably.

I thought he was dead, but here he was, alive, though barely. He didn’t seem threatening anymore, and since he was my martial uncle, I wouldn’t kill him.

I asked, “Why are you here?” Zuo Shan sighed. “After I was struck by Master Ye Guyi’s curse, my heart stopped, and I nearly died. That’s when I realized all these years I’ve been chasing illusions—pointless. Why torment myself?”

Seeing his genuine remorse, I said, “If that’s the case, I forgive you. If you want to return to the Ghost Sect, I’ll allow it.”

Zuo Shan’s lips trembled with excitement. “Really? Thank you, Sect Leader!” Qi Qiqi found it amusing, like a scene from a martial arts drama where a janitor casually defeats a sect leader in a tournament and walks away.

I nodded and patted Zuo Shan’s head. “You can come back.”

Zuo Shan explained he came because, on the day I left with the ghost baby, Ruan Nan showed up. After Zeng Jie left, Zuo Shan, sealed and nearly dead, was down to one-tenth of his strength. Ruan Nan stormed in, releasing his Seven-Star Insect, shouting, “Give me back my ancestor’s skull!”

Zuo Shan, terrified, hid behind a Buddhist shrine. Ruan Nan’s Seven-Star Insect buzzed around, but a blood spider jumped out of a jar and fought it. Sensing Zuo Shan’s presence, Ruan Nan prepared to attack.

Zuo Shan summoned ten head-lowering masks to shield himself, keeping Ruan Nan at bay.

Ruan Nan, ruthless and without family, had no fears. His elder, Ruan Sanjia, had told him their ancestor, a bug master, was harmed by someone named Zuo Shan, hiding in a temple in Chiang Mai, Thailand.

With his family gone, Ruan Nan came to fulfill Ruan Sanjia’s dying wish and confront Zuo Shan.

I sighed. “So, Ruan Sanjia’s father was Ruan Jinluan. The world is small.”

Zuo Shan continued, saying Ruan Nan hesitated to attack due to the power of the ten head-lowering masks.

Zuo Shan, cunning despite his injuries, deepened Ruan Nan’s doubts by hiding his weakened state.

He took an ancestral skull from the shrine, which bore a curse inscription. Ruan Nan screamed, “So it was you who cursed my father into blood and turned me into a eunuch. You’re despicable!”

Zuo Shan hurriedly explained, “No, that’s not your ancestor’s skull. The Ruan Jinluan you’re talking about isn’t that Ruan Jinluan.”

Ruan Nan, furious, shouted, “It’s Jinluan, not Jinlan! If I don’t kill you, I’m not human!”

His Seven-Star Insect lunged, but it couldn’t withstand the blood spider’s venomous liquid. The insect fell, dissolving into blood.

The blood spider, aligned with Zuo Shan’s will, didn’t push Ruan Nan to a dead end, especially since its strength was diminished after fighting me.

Ruan Nan and the blood spider reached a stalemate. Zuo Shan defended with his masks and spider.

Ruan Nan, young and vigorous, was skilled in insect techniques, but his Seven-Star Insect couldn’t overcome the blood spider, so he couldn’t act.

As they stood off, Zeng Jie’s voice came from outside: “Master, that dog ran away. What now?”

That day was one of the most perilous in Zuo Shan’s life.

As Zeng Jie was about to enter, Ruan Nan gave up on Zuo Shan, stormed out, and took Zeng Jie away, saying, “If you want your disciple back, bring your head to lift my ancestor’s curse.”

Zeng Jie, sheltered and spoiled by Zuo Shan, was no match for Ruan Nan, who grew up in the wild and was meticulous. Ruan Nan planned his attack and kidnapped Zeng Jie.

Knowing he couldn’t defeat Zuo Shan in Chiang Mai, Ruan Nan took Zeng Jie to the Golden Triangle. Looking at Zuo Shan’s frail, dying state, I asked, “Are you going into the mountains alone to save Zeng Jie?”

Zuo Shan nodded. “He’s my only disciple. I have no choice. I’m counting on him to send me off when I die.”

Seeing his sincere repentance, and knowing the Buddhist saying about放下屠刀立地成佛 (放下屠刀立地成佛,放下屠刀立地成佛), I figured helping him would help me too. The Golden Triangle’s heartland is dangerous, and having him as an experienced guide would be useful. So, I agreed to bring him along.

Qi Qiqi didn’t know the full story but saw no harm in Zuo Shan guiding us.

This odd group set off immediately. On the way, I asked Zuo Shan how he knew about my grandfather’s death and my becoming the Ghost Sect’s heir. He honestly admitted a man named Ma Ruoxing, paid to gather information, had told him. Ma even turned Bai Jingren into an old corpse.

I cursed inwardly, “That bastard Ma Ruoxing dared to deceive me!”

Zuo Shan carried a cloth bag with a few head-lowering masks and the blood spider. After a short walk, he needed rest. A jeep appeared on the path, and Zuo Shan gave his name. The men in the jeep glared at Qi Qiqi and me but were friendly to Zuo Shan.

They spoke in Thai, seemingly begging Zuo Shan to help eliminate a rival hilltop. Another jeep sped by, carrying several graceful women. The most striking, elegant one held a Luzon cigarette.

Her clothes bore a white rose emblem—fragrant yet melancholic, like a rose fallen to the mortal world.

Noticing my gaze, Zuo Shan said, “That’s Rose, a man from Chiang Mai more feminine than any woman. She’s charmed countless people.”

Qi Qiqi stared, transfixed. “From a woman’s perspective, she’s a true beauty, even prettier than Sister Zhiling. Xiao Qi, want me to lend you money to spend a night with her?”

I shot her a look. “No sense of compassion…”

Qi Qiqi burst out laughing. I spun the compass and stopped at a small intersection. We were nearing the heart of the Golden Triangle, where dense trees were draped in vines. Small villages appeared occasionally, sparsely populated, nestled in open areas between rivers and mountains. Vast fields of white poppies came into view.

It was beautiful. Zuo Shan told me about the rise and fall of the region. The crackdown on poppy cultivation here had intensified, and the Golden Triangle had been surpassed by the Golden Crescent—Afghanistan, Iran, and Pakistan’s border regions—where poppy production far exceeded this area. Still, the Golden Triangle’s drugs remained the highest quality. As we walked, I listened, moving quickly. We often saw armed private militias. Zuo Shan released his blood spider from its jar, letting it perch on his shoulder. I followed suit, taming some venomous spiders from the forest and placing them on my shoulder.

Qi Qiqi was scared, so I gave her a green praying mantis—a broadaxe mantis—for her shoulder.

Zuo Shan explained that carrying these creatures signaled to the militias that we were head-lowering masters here to catch insects. It warned them not to mess with us, lest they face dire consequences.

Once, a group attacked Zuo Shan, only for his blood spider to reduce them to blood.

The drug traffickers’ militias avoided the blood spider, not wanting trouble unless their interests were at stake.

This tactic worked, and we faced no major issues. At one point, a group stopped us, but their leader saw the blood spider on Zuo Shan’s head, apologized, and let us pass.

After a day of walking and hitching rides on jeeps, we reached the Golden Triangle. At dusk, we stayed in a small village by a river…