Chapter 1: The Heir of the Celestial Master (1)

In the second year of Emperor Shun, Master Zhang Ling received the Zhengyi talisman and the Sword of the Celestial Master, bestowed by the Supreme Elder Lord. He journeyed to Longhu Mountain in Jiangxi for cultivation. On the day he broke through the final barrier, he subdued eight divisions of evil spirits and defeated six earthly kings. Together with his disciples, he traveled across the land, slaying monsters and demons, blessing the people of Sichuan. Thus, the “Celestial Masters’ Dao” was established, continuing until today.

—From Daozang

The sky darkened, the wind blew, branches twisted, and leaves drifted down.

Finally, the raindrops began to fall.

It wasn’t heavy rain—more like a drizzle, more like mist than rain, enclosing the bustling world in a curtain of fine, bead-like threads. Looking into the distance, streets, buildings, and pedestrians blurred into indistinct outlines.

As the old saying goes: “Timely rain knows its season, emerging with spring.” But at this moment, someone wasn’t pleased.

Right now, he was squatting lazily at the entrance of his own shop like he was waiting in a trench, one hand holding a cigarette after a few drags, the other hand strangely making divining gestures, muttering nonstop as if he were pondering some great philosophy.

Up close, this guy looked decent enough—sharp chin, thick eyebrows, big eyes, and a high nose bridge. Not ordinary, but not excessively handsome either, giving off a balanced, pleasing vibe.

His name was Liu Dashao, owner of this feng shui shop, commonly known as a “spiritual charlatan.” Although business wasn’t booming, it was enough to ensure he had wine to drink and cigarettes to smoke, and when his wallet was full, he could even treat himself to a nice meal out. When idle, he’d read books like “Ziwei Shu Shu” and “Yunji Qiqian”—the so-called textbooks of his trade. Although nine out of ten things a spiritual charlatan says are lies, how could one not at least try to live up to the people’s expectations? After all, one must love their job, do their part for the socialist modernization drive, right?

So, it was still necessary to study the basics. As for how much one could truly understand, that depended on personal insight. As the saying goes: “A forced melon is never sweet!”

In the second year of Emperor Shun’s reign, the patriarch Zhang Ling received the True One Talisman and the Heavenly Master Sword bestowed by the Supreme Lord Laozi. He then traveled to Longhu Mountain in Jiangxi to cultivate his practice. On the day he broke through the barriers, he subdued eight classes of malevolent spirits and vanquished six demon kings. Together with his disciples, he roamed various regions, slaying demons and monsters, and bringing prosperity to the people of Shu. Thus, he founded the “Way of the Heavenly Master,” which has been passed down to this day.

— *Daoist Canon*

The sky darkened, the wind howled, the tree branches twisted, and the leaves fluttered. Finally, the raindrops began to fall. The rain was light, more like a mist than a downpour, and the bustling world was enveloped in a dense web of rain. In the distance, the streets, buildings, and pedestrians were reduced to blurry outlines.

As the saying goes, “Good rain knows the season, it comes when spring arrives.” But at this moment, someone was not pleased. He was squatting at the entrance of his shop, one hand holding a half-smoked cigarette, the other making strange gestures as he muttered to himself, seemingly lost in some profound thought.

Upon closer inspection, the man was decent-looking—sharp chin, thick eyebrows, big eyes, and a high nose bridge. He wasn’t extraordinarily handsome, but there was a certain harmony and pleasantness about him. His name was Liu Dashao, the owner of this feng shui shop, or as people often called him, a “fortune-teller.” Though his business wasn’t booming, it was enough to keep him in cigarettes and alcohol, and when his pockets were full, he could even treat himself to a meal at a restaurant. On idle days, he would read books like *The Purple Star Calculations* and *The Seven Bamboo Tablets of the Cloudy Satchel*. Although fortune-tellers are known for their deceit, he believed he couldn’t completely deceive the public. After all, he had to be professional and contribute to the socialist modernization, right?

So, he made sure to brush up on the basics. As for how much he truly understood, that depended on his own insight. As the saying goes, “Forced fruit is never sweet.”

“An ancient mirror, dim for years, once polished, shines like the full moon. A gentleman seeking fortune with this hexagram will find his luck naturally turning.” After finishing his calculations, Liu Dashao finally spat out a hexagram verse, each line rhyming and neatly structured, as if he really had some skill. But the next sentence that followed was a different story: “Damn it, kid! It’s freezing, and now it’s raining! Fine, change the weather if you must, but why does it have to keep raining day after day? You’re washing away all the feng shui luck I’ve been accumulating!” With that, he stood up and flipped the bird at the overcast sky, cursing in frustration.

The gentle pitter-patter of the rain, though pleasant to the ear, was, as Liu Dashao had said, making his already slow business even slower. Normally, he’d have customers coming in every few days—parents naming their children, shop owners praying for prosperity, couples seeking marriage or divorce advice. But now, it had been a week, and not a single soul had shown up.

Naturally, Liu Dashao blamed all his misfortunes on the rain. Life was frustrating! When you’re down on your luck, even drinking water feels like it’s stuck in your teeth, and peeing feels like it’s conducting electricity! Grumbling, Liu Dashao took a drag from his cigarette and glanced at the clock. It was past three. Fine, he’d close up shop soon and call it a day. If no one was coming, he wasn’t going to wait around.

Just as he was debating whether to have a bowl of Master Kong’s braised beef noodles or Tongyi’s Fumanduo, the phone on the table rang abruptly in the quiet air. Liu Dashao’s hand holding the cigarette trembled, scattering ash all over his pants, nearly dropping it into his crotch.

“Thank goodness my zipper was up,” he muttered, brushing off the ash and picking up the phone. “Who is it?” he barked.

“Is this Master Liu, the feng shui expert?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“I’d like to invite you to take a look at the feng shui of my home.”

“Oh! Hello, hello.” Stubbing out his cigarette and exhaling the last puff, Liu Dashao immediately transformed, adopting the most professional customer service voice. “Are you looking for a full-house reading or just a single room?”

“I’m looking for a full-house reading. My family has been feeling unwell lately, and we’ve all been falling sick. A friend mentioned that your feng shui readings are quite effective, so I was wondering when you’d be available to come over?”

“Hold on, let me check…” Liu Dashao replied.

Truth be told, he had no appointments. This was just a show to make it seem like he was in demand. It was the basic rule of being a fortune-teller—always act busy, and people would believe you were a master. That way, not only could you score a good meal, but you could also negotiate a higher price. “How about the afternoon of the day after tomorrow? Can you give me your address?”

“The day after tomorrow…” The man on the other end of the line deflated like a punctured balloon. After a long pause, he stammered, “Could I pay extra for you to come tomorrow morning?”

Bingo! Liu Dashao’s heart leapt with excitement. His face, framed by his gold-rimmed glasses, lit up, and his breathing grew heavier from the adrenaline rush. Of course, he had to maintain his composure.

“Well…” He dragged out the word, flipping through a magazine near the receiver to make it sound like he was checking his busy schedule. After ten seconds, he feigned a look of reluctance. “Sir, I can see you’re in a hurry. In Taoism, we believe in helping others and accumulating good karma. Besides, time is like a woman’s…”

Liu Dashao’s words caught in his throat. He coughed twice to cover up, swallowing the rest of his sentence. He had been about to say, “Time is like a woman’s cleavage—you can always squeeze some out.” Thankfully, he caught himself in time. While the analogy was vivid and apt, it would have ruined the image he had carefully built as a respectable master. He bit his tongue, cursing himself for almost slipping up.

“Master, what about time?” The man didn’t seem to notice the slip, but he was anxious, thinking that Master Liu’s schedule was packed and hard to adjust. His voice carried a hint of pleading.

“Ah, well,” Liu Dashao chuckled, changing his tone. “If we squeeze it in, I can make time tomorrow morning after eleven. But the price…”

Whether it was because he hadn’t had a good meal in a while or because he was naturally money-hungry, Liu Dashao’s voice noticeably hardened when he mentioned the price. It wasn’t exactly commanding, but it was firm and clear. (According to his father, when Liu Dashao was just a baby, he would wake up, ignore his parents, and focus all his energy on grabbing the New Year’s money on the bed. Once he had it in his hands, he would smile, but when his honest uncle tried to take it away, Liu Dashao would burst into tears so loud that it seemed the heavens would fall. His grandfather, witnessing this, scolded his uncle, saying, “He’s the only treasure in this family. Why are you fighting with him?” The uncle, terrified, ended up adding two more yuan to the original red envelope to calm the baby down.)

“Money’s not an issue. As long as you can come tomorrow, money’s not an issue,” the man assured him.

“Alright then, give me your address. I’ll be there at eight sharp.” Mission accomplished.

“West Alley Street, Garden Community, Building One, fifth floor, unit 404.”

“Got it. See you tomorrow, goodbye!” Liu Dashao scribbled the address on the back of his magazine, stretched, and let out a loud fart in his swivel chair.

Don’t call him despicable—in this day and age, being too honest won’t get you far. When Liu Dashao first arrived in the city, he didn’t know the rules. He spent a whole afternoon under the scorching sun, tirelessly pasting flyers for “curing unspeakable diseases” without taking a break. He ended up pasting one right outside the police station, just as the officers were heading out for lunch. They watched him sweat as he applied glue and stuck the flyer on the wall, then gave him a stern lecture and confiscated all his tools, totaling a loss of 16.35 yuan.

This incident left a deep impression on Liu Dashao’s kind heart. He finally realized that hard work alone doesn’t always yield results. Reflecting on his past, he realized that his straightforward nature had turned him into a burden on society—a single man past his prime.

Now that a fat sheep had come knocking, there was no way he was going to let it go.

Damn it, this was good business! In the five elements, water symbolizes wealth. With all this rain, it was only a matter of time before a big opportunity came along. Liu Dashao squinted his small eyes, gazing at the drizzling rain outside like a wealthy landlord from the old society, his face beaming with joy. He took a deep breath, this time without farting, and picked up the address on the table, examining it closely. Hehe, Garden Community—this was the prime real estate in the city, with prices per square meter in the tens of thousands. His mind raced with possibilities, wondering how much he could squeeze out of this potential sucker.

Sigh! The soft pattering of raindrops sounded like silver bells—pleasant to hear, yes—but just as Liu Dashao said, it made his already quiet business even quieter. Previously, every few days someone would come by to name a child, open a business hoping for the wealth god’s blessing, or ask for help with marriage or divorce—whatever—he’d handle it. But now, for an entire week, not a soul had come through the door!

Naturally, Liu Dashao blamed all this bad luck squarely on the rain. Life was frustrating! When you’re down, even drinking cold water can get your teeth stuck, and peeing might give you an electric shock! Grumbling, cigarette in mouth, squinting at his watch—he saw it was past three o’clock. Alright, he’d hang around a bit longer before closing shop and going to sleep. If nobody’s coming, well then, he wasn’t going to wait around for them!

Just as he was debating whether to have Master Kong Braised Beef Noodles or Uni-President’s Flavorful Delight, the telephone on the table suddenly rang out, sharply breaking the silence.

Liu Dashao’s hand holding the cigarette jerked, scattering ash all over his pants, nearly dropping into his crotch.

“Good thing my fly was zipped.” Brushing off the ash, he muttered curses and picked up the phone grumpily, snapping, “Who is this?”

“Is this Master Liu, the divine immortal?”

“Yeah, who’s asking?”

“I want you to come check the feng shui of my house.”

“Oh! Hello, hello.” He stubbed out the cigarette, took one last puff, and immediately transformed into a completely different person, using the most standard telecom customer service voice: “May I ask if you’re checking the entire house or just a single room?”

“I want the whole house checked. Recently, my whole family has been feeling unwell, getting sick one after another. Yesterday, a friend told me your feng shui readings are very effective, so I thought I’d ask—Master, when are you available to come check it out?”

“Just a moment, let me check…” Liu Dashao replied.

To be honest, though, what was there to check? There were no appointments—he was just pretending. It was basic etiquette for a spiritual charlatan: even if nothing was going on, you had to keep up appearances so people wouldn’t think your business was dead. Throw out a few vague phrases, and people would really start to believe you were a master. Then, not only could you get a good meal out of it, but the price negotiations would go smoothly too: “How about the day after tomorrow afternoon? Please give me your address.”

“The day after tomorrow…” The man on the other end of the line immediately deflated like a punctured balloon, silent for a moment before hesitantly pleading: “Would it be possible for me to pay extra if you could come tomorrow morning instead?”

Oh ho! There’s a chance! Liu Dashao inwardly rejoiced, his face—framed by gold-rimmed glasses—lighting up with excitement, his breath quickening from a surge of adrenaline. Of course, while excited, he still had to maintain his composure.

“Hmm…” He let the word drag out, turning the pages of his magazine loudly near the receiver to show how busy he was. Ten seconds later, he finally put on a reluctant expression: “Sigh! Sir, I can see you’re in a hurry. Daoism emphasizes saving people and doing good deeds, accumulating blessings. Besides, time is like a woman’s…”

At this point, Liu Dashao’s words got stuck in his throat. He coughed twice, deliberately hiding his slip, swallowing the rest of the phrase. Originally, he had intended to say: “Time is like a woman’s cleavage—squeeze a bit, and you’ll find it.” Fortunately, he caught himself in time. Otherwise, although the metaphor was vivid and fitting, it would have ruined the respectable image Liu Dashao had painstakingly built.

“Master, time is like what?” The man on the other end didn’t seem to mind, but Liu Dashao’s sentence cut off mid-way, making him anxious. He thought that maybe the Master’s schedule was packed tight, hence the hesitation, and so his tone became even more pleading.

“Hehe!” Liu Dashao changed his tone with a laugh: “If I squeeze, I can come tomorrow after 11 a.m. But the price…”

Whether it was due to a long dry spell or just Liu Dashao’s natural greed, when the word “price” came up, his tone clearly sharpened. It wasn’t exactly thunderous, but it was precise and clear! (Note: According to his father’s recollection, when Liu Dashao was just learning to drink milk, upon opening his eyes, he didn’t recognize his parents. Instead, his two little eyes glared like a wolf, and he reached out with all his might for the New Year money on the bed. The moment he grabbed it, he burst into laughter. But his honest Uncle Er wasn’t happy, saying the money was dirty and might carry germs. Out of concern, he tried to pry Liu Dashao’s fingers open, but the moment he did, Liu Dashao burst into loud, heart-wrenching wails—so loud it shook the heavens and darkened the sun. Just then, Grandpa walked in to pick up his grandson and, seeing the only beloved grandson in the family being fought over by a grown man, flew into a rage, grabbed his cane, and nearly smashed Uncle Er’s head. It took Grandma’s desperate pleading to stop him. Scared, Uncle Er quickly rummaged through his pockets and added two more one-yuan notes to the original red envelope, finally making Liu Dashao stop crying and smile again.)

“Money isn’t a problem. As long as you can come tomorrow, money isn’t a problem.” The voice on the other end eagerly assured him.

“Alright then. Give me the address. I’ll arrive at 8 a.m. sharp tomorrow.”

“West Alley Street, Garden Community Building One, 5th floor, Room 404.”

“Got it. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodbye!” Liu Dashao scribbled the address on the back of the magazine with a flourish, then stretched lazily, leaning back in his chair and letting out a loud fart.

Don’t call him despicable—this is the era we live in; honesty alone won’t get you by. Back when Liu Dashao first arrived in the city, he didn’t understand the rules. He worked under the scorching midday sun, tirelessly pasting small flyers without rest, until he finally reached the doorstep of the police station. Coincidentally, a police officer was stepping out for lunch and saw Liu Dashao, drenched in sweat, gluing flyers advertising treatments for embarrassing ailments onto the walls. The officers watched with amusement, then gave Liu Dashao a stern scolding and thorough education, confiscating all his tools. The total loss amounted to 16 yuan and 3 jiao.

This incident deeply shocked Liu Dashao’s innocent heart. He finally realized that hard work alone doesn’t guarantee success. Reflecting on his past life, he realized his excessive honesty had made him a burden—a single, aging man dragging down society.

Now that a fat sheep had come knocking, how could he possibly let go?

Damn it, good business! According to the Five Elements, water brings wealth. He had known it all along—rain every day must mean a big opportunity was coming. Liu Dashao squinted like an old landlord from the feudal era, gazing joyfully at the drizzle outside, his face breaking into a wide grin. He took a deep breath—this time without farting—and picked up the address on the table, carefully examining it. Hehe, Market Garden—this area was prime real estate in the city, priced in the tens of thousands per square meter. Thinking of this, his greedy little heart couldn’t help but leap with excitement. He started calculating how much he could squeeze out of this guy if he turned out to be a pushover.