Chapter Twenty-Four: The Battle of Three Spirits

“Little guardian spirits, don’t get cocky!” At that moment, Zhang Zhiheng suddenly sprang out from nowhere, hastily casting three talismanic spells. The three talismans struck the three guardian spirits, forcing them to stagger backward at once.

“Master Zhang, help me!” the tycoon cried out in panic.

“I thought this was just a simple mountain dragon acupoint, but I didn’t expect the Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise, and White Tiger to be guarding it. If the conditions are right, even the Azure Dragon might emerge, and the mountain dragon could transform into a celestial dragon. Clearly, the feng shui of this place is superb to nurture such a rare mountain dragon acupoint!” Zhang Zhiheng muttered as he swiftly took out a vial of black dog’s blood.

He understood well that the Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise, and White Tiger were ancient divine beasts. Yet here, they were merely symbols of feng shui, mere avatars, their power far less than a ten-thousandth of their true might. A vial of black dog’s blood would suffice to break these three guardian spirits.

Seeing Zhang Zhiheng was a Maoshan Taoist, the three beasts realized they had been deceived. Furious, they charged at him with rage.

Yet Zhang Zhiheng remained calm; breaking feng shui was his specialty. He quickly drew out three talismans and dabbed them in black dog’s blood. As the three guardian beasts rushed at him, he hurled the blood-soaked talismans: “Thunder spell—let the talisman summon thunder to pacify the world!”

Suddenly, dark clouds gathered overhead, and three bolts of lightning struck down upon the divine beasts. The Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise, and White Tiger were paralyzed by the thunder, and the black dog’s blood—lethal to evil spirits of feng shui—finished the job. Their forms shattered into white light, scattering and dissipating.

“Master, is it done?” the tycoon asked anxiously.

“I have dispelled the guardian spirits of this land. Your father may rest here in peace. But by doing this, I have defied the will of Heaven—not only revealing the feng shui, but slaying its guardian spirits. It seems a great misfortune awaits me,” Zhang Zhiheng sighed heavily.

“You’ve done so much for me, Master, I won’t let you suffer for it!” The tycoon, hearing that the matter was settled, beamed with delight.

“Since that’s settled, of the gold and silver treasures we find in Cao Aman’s tomb tomorrow, I want eighty percent!” Zhang Zhiheng caught his breath. Though the battle had seemed effortless, he could feel the subtle damage to his fate—a sensation only an expert in geomancy like himself could discern.

“No problem!” the tycoon agreed readily, which surprised Zhang Zhiheng. Perhaps the man truly felt grateful, having witnessed Zhang risk his life to secure the mountain dragon acupoint.

Zhang Zhiheng said no more, turning away to rest.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. Zhang Zhiheng collapsed, struck down. Behind him, the tycoon stood, pistol in hand, grinning wickedly. “You really are ruthless! Such a vast tomb, and you want eighty percent of the treasure? I did all the work and would get only twenty? You’re greedier than I am!”

“You—!” Zhang Zhiheng clutched his chest, looking back at the tycoon, who now stood tall and powerful, his previous cowardice gone. He strode over and pinned Zhang down with his foot.

“None of the geomancers who’ve worked for me ever left alive. If they could help me, they could help others—and that would be dangerous for me. Those who know my secrets might one day use their arts against me. In this business, one must be cautious. I’d planned to spare you for your service, but your greed knows no bounds. Better to deal with you now. Still, I’m grateful for your help; after your death, I’ll see you buried properly, not left to rot in the wild like the others. Farewell, Master Zhang.”

“Damn you!” Another gunshot rang out, and Zhang Zhiheng fell forever to the ground.

“Men!” The tycoon wiped his gun and beckoned. A group of strong, fierce-faced men approached, their veins bulging—a band of professional enforcers.

“Bury Master Zhang. Choose a decent spot so he may rest in peace. After all, he risked his life to help me find the mountain dragon acupoint. I won’t let him be eaten by wolves like the others.” The tycoon dusted off his clothes and returned to the distant car. “Prepare to hire another mountain-moving sorcerer to open Cao Aman’s tomb.”

“Yes, sir!”

As Zhang Zhiheng lay dying, the first person he thought of was his junior brother, Fang You. Zhang had long known he was ill-fated, his destiny marked by calamity—a life sure to be short. Though he’d escaped the massacre of the Zhuge clan by chance, he doubted he would live past thirty. Yet he hadn’t expected fate to catch up with him so soon. He’d spent his life seeking the murderer of the Zhuge clan, hoping to avenge his brother, and now he was dying here, having accomplished nothing, bringing harm to Fang You—regret filled his heart.

Nonetheless, the tycoon kept his word, selecting a burial spot for Zhang Zhiheng. It wasn’t a place of great fortune, but at least it offered peace in death.

The night wind was chilly; the air, tinged with sorrow. Thus perished Zhang Zhiheng, eldest disciple of Maoshan’s Heavenly Master—a lamentable fate.

A woman approached Zhang Zhiheng’s grave. Horns adorned her head, her face twisted in a demon’s visage, with a powerful aura of darkness swirling around her—her presence as overwhelming as mountains and seas.

She gazed at the gravestone, then thrust her hand into the earth, pulling Zhang Zhiheng’s corpse from the ground. “I am Queen Morgana, a deity from beyond Earth. Passing by, I noticed you possess some skill in the mystic arts. I have just arrived on this planet and need a guide. Will you serve as my servant?”

With that, Morgana breathed a black mist into Zhang Zhiheng’s body. His corpse trembled, and the wound in his chest began to knit and heal.

“I am Zhang Zhiheng, at your service, my Queen!”