That night, the Zhao Family mansion was shrouded in terror.
The patriarch, Zhao Weiguo, was lying in his bedroom, howling in agony. His skin was covered in white corpse hairs, and he was vomiting black bile. The best doctors in Beijing stood by, helpless.
In the main hall, the atmosphere was suffocating.
"Trash! All of you are trash!"
Zhao Tianba, the eldest son and current acting head of the family, smashed a priceless Ming vase onto the floor.
"I offered fifty million bounty! Why hasn't anyone brought me Jiang Daolin's head?!"
"Boss..." a bodyguard captain trembled. "We tried. But the brothers who went to his shop... their legs were mysteriously broken before they even got close. That place is haunted!"
"Haunted? I don't believe in ghosts! I only believe in power!"
"Mr. Zhao, calm down."
An elderly man wearing a grey Taoist robe and holding a wooden compass walked in. He had a long goatee and eyes that seemed to shine in the dark.
This was Grandmaster Xuanji, the most renowned Feng Shui master in Beijing, kept on retainer by the Zhao family for enormous sums of money.
"Grandmaster! You must save my father!" Zhao Tianba grabbed Xuanji like a lifeline.
Xuanji stroked his beard solemnly. "I have seen your father. It's not a disease. It's a 'Resentment Backlash'."
"The soul of the heart donor is taking revenge. Jiang Daolin merely triggered it."
"Can you fix it?"
"To fix it, we must eliminate the trigger." Xuanji's eyes turned cold. "Since physical means failed, we shall use metaphysical means."
"Tonight at midnight, is the darkest hour. I will set up the 'Seven Fiends Soul-Locking Array' on the family altar. I will gather the Dragon Qi of the capital to strike him down from miles away!"
"I will crush his soul so completely he won't even be able to reincarnate!"
...
Midnight. The "Stitch" Shop in the alley.
The city was asleep, but the air inside the shop suddenly grew freezing cold.
The water in the teacups froze instantly. The white lantern outside began to flicker wildly, turning a sickly green color.
An immense, invisible pressure descended upon the small shop, like a giant hand trying to crush it flat.
Creak—
Iron Leg, who was guarding the door, suddenly tensed up. His mechanical legs groaned under the pressure. His instincts as a former fighter screamed danger, but he couldn't see any enemy.
"Mr. Jiang... something is wrong," Iron Leg growled.
"Don't be nervous. It's not living people."
Jiang Daolin sat calmly at the square table, reading an ancient medical text. He didn't even look up.
"Someone is playing with Feng Shui."
He could feel it. A stream of malignant energy, carrying the intent to kill, was flying across the city, locked onto his location.
"They want to use the city's Qi to crush me?" Jiang Daolin turned a page leisurely. "Trying to teach a Stitcher about Yin and Yang physics? How cute."
The Stitcher lineage dealt with graves, corpses, and spirits daily. Feng Shui was their basic training.
"Nine, lend me a drop of blood."
Nine, who was sitting nearby, obediently extended her finger. Jiang Daolin pricked it with a silver needle. A drop of bright red blood—blood with a special constitution—welled up.
Jiang Daolin took five ancient copper coins and placed them on the table in a specific pattern. He dropped the blood onto the center coin.
Hummm—
The copper coins vibrated instantly.
"Since they sent me such a big gift," Jiang Daolin's eyes sharpened, and he slammed his hand down onto the coins.
Stitcher's Art: Yin-Yang Reversal - Mirror Reflection!
"I'll send it back. Double the postage."
BOOM!
An invisible shockwave blasted outward from the shop. The oppressive coldness vanished instantly.
...
At the same moment. Zhao Family Mansion Garden Altar.
Grandmaster Xuanji was chanting feverishly, wielding a peach wood sword, sweat pouring down his face. He felt his curse was about to hit the target.
Suddenly.
His eyes widened in horror. The energy he sent out... bounced back. It returned like a tsunami, ten times stronger!
"NO! Impossible! He's just a doctor! How can he—"
PUFF!
Xuanji didn't finish his sentence. A massive geyser of black blood erupted from his mouth. He was flung backward twenty meters like a ragdoll, smashing into a rockery. His chest was caved in, his fate unknown.
CRASH!
The altar exploded.
Then, chaos consumed the Zhao mansion.
In the ancestral hall, hundreds of memorial tablets of the Zhao ancestors simultaneously snapped in half.
In the garden, the century-old koi fish in the pond all turned belly-up, dead.
The lights in the entire estate flickered and died, plunging the mansion into darkness. Eerie wails of wind howled through the corridors.
"AHHHH!!!"
A new, more horrific scream came from the old man's bedroom.
Zhao Tianba rushed in, only to collapse onto the floor in terror.
His father, Zhao Weiguo, was no longer human. He was covered in thick white fur, his eyes rolled back, clawing at the air as if fighting invisible ghosts.
The Zhao Family, the kings of Beijing... had their luck completely broken in one night.
In the quiet shop miles away, Jiang Daolin took a sip of hot tea.
"Checkmate."