Afterwards, I asked Yang Xiao about it and finally learned why that short, chubby middle-aged man treated him with such deference. The man's surname was Zhao, and he owned a large coal mine in the suburbs of the city. Around Qilin City, Boss Zhao the coal magnate had made quite a name for himself. Things had been going well in coal mining until, for some reason, he listened to the advice of a self-proclaimed expert and suddenly announced his move into the real estate industry.
To be fair, Boss Zhao had made a decent fortune, but his entry into real estate came too late. In the past few years, several major developers had already driven up property prices multiple times in Qilin City. Land prices and construction costs had soared as a result. For someone like Zhao, it was almost impossible to acquire land in the city center.
But as the saying goes—there are no absolutes in life. Just as Boss Zhao began shifting his attention to the suburbs, the so-called expert brought him some news: there was a parcel of land on South Zhongshan Road in Qilin City that the government intended to sell at an extremely low price. Dirt cheap—rock-bottom price kind of cheap. The expert even pointed out the location on the map. While not in the bustling core, it was still within city limits. Boss Zhao couldn't help but think the government had made a mistake—maybe they had accidentally left off a zero from the price.
A deal this good was too good to pass up. Unfortunately for Boss Zhao, he didn't bother investigating further and dove right into preparing a bid for the land. Strangely, his was the only company that submitted a bid, so naturally, he won without any competition. As soon as he secured usage rights for the first piece of land under his real estate company, he immediately drove over to check out the site.
As his car entered the stretch of South Zhongshan Road, Boss Zhao felt something was off. When he reached the location, he didn't even get out of the car. Through the window, he could see a foreboding fifteen-story building in the distance. Despite spending most of his time at the coal mine in the suburbs, he'd still heard of the infamous Fifteen-Story Building. It was so commonly referred to by that name that few people even remembered its original address—No. 135 South Zhongshan Road.
Boss Zhao was dumbfounded. Who would live in a building built next to that? Might as well build a cemetery instead. He regretted it deeply but couldn't back out—if he failed to start construction within the designated timeframe, the government had the legal right to reclaim the land without compensation. Even if it was cheap, in this industry, "cheap" was still expensive.
That fake expert finally realized there was a problem and disappeared without a trace. Zhao had no choice but to consult some real professionals. Unfortunately, all he got was one sentence:
"Boss Zhao, this land is a lost cause. Just take the loss."
From that day on, Boss Zhao was constantly sighing. He started buying traditional Chinese herbal remedies by the pound, snapping at everyone he saw whether at home or at work. His family couldn't take it anymore. After learning about the root of the problem, his son-in-law came up with an idea: if no one dared to live there, then why not build a hospital instead?
His son-in-law, surname Tan, had graduated from medical school five or six years ago. With Zhao's financial backing, he had managed to climb the ranks to deputy chief physician at the Qilin University Medical Hospital. Though his medical skills were just average, he was excellent at networking. Recently, he had even moved into an administrative role as the hospital's General Affairs Director.
Boss Zhao never thought much of his son-in-law. Without his financial support, the young man might still be stuck in some rural health clinic. Initially, he intended to call his son-in-law over just to scold him and let off steam. But this idea surprised him. He mulled it over—it wasn't a bad solution. After all, people always need hospitals for colds or fevers. Even if no one came, occupying the land itself was worth it. A few years down the line, when the government redeveloped the area, he might be able to sell the hospital and still make a profit.
Taking his son-in-law's suggestion, Zhao first pulled some strings to reclassify the land from residential-commercial to medical use. Then he greased the right palms with the health department and other agencies. After obtaining all the necessary permits, construction began on Qilin City Zhongxing Hospital. From the moment construction started, surprising things began to happen—one after another.
First, a stock Zhao had held for years, stuck in a slump, suddenly skyrocketed. It surged through seven consecutive trading limit-ups. Not only did he recoup his capital, but he made a hefty profit. Then good news came from his coal mine: although the expected reserves had nearly been exhausted, mining showed no signs of depletion. He even brought in geological experts, who concluded that the mine was far richer than originally estimated. At the current rate, it could continue operating for another twenty years. Zhao had always prioritized the coal business, so this news filled him with joy.
Just as the hospital neared completion, more good news arrived from his family: Zhao's only daughter was pregnant.
She and Dr. Tan had been married for years and had tried everything to conceive without success. All the tests came back normal, but they just couldn't get pregnant. Eventually, they had given up. Now, miraculously, she was expecting.
Boss Zhao was overjoyed. He realized that all the good fortune had started after he acquired that piece of land. How could this be haunted ground? It was a blessed site if there ever was one.
He even began to doubt the stories about the Fifteen-Story Building and thought about buying it too while it was cheap. But due to strong opposition from everyone around him, the idea was shelved. During those days, everything Zhao touched went smoothly—until three nights ago, when everything changed.
That night, after attending a dinner engagement, Zhao drove home and ran into a dense fog. Somehow, he unknowingly drove into a graveyard. As he tried to reverse, the car stalled. What happened next was chilling—dark, shadowy figures began emerging from the surrounding graves. Shrouded in fog, they swayed in place before converging on his car.
Zhao was on the brink of collapse. He tried repeatedly to start the car, but it was futile. The shadows surrounded the car. Through the misted glass, he could see their terrifying, corpse-like faces. He completely lost control—wetting and soiling himself in terror, shaking uncontrollably.
Just when he was about to faint, a cold voice called out from the fog:
"The dead are like extinguished lamps—you've already returned to dust. Why disrupt the balance of yin and yang?"
A man appeared before the car. He had a youthful, baby-faced appearance, his exact age impossible to guess. From the moment he arrived, the thick fog began to dissipate. The shadowy figures scattered like frightened animals. Just as Zhao had feared them, they feared this man. They trembled, clearly wanting to flee, but in his presence, they couldn't even move.
The baby-faced man sighed and said slowly:
"Forget it. I'm in a good mood tonight. I won't trouble you. Dust to dust, earth to earth—return to where you came from."
As he spoke, the ghosts scrambled back into their graves. He walked up to Zhao's car and knocked on the window.
"What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"
Zhao, regaining his senses, struggled to open the door and crawl out, legs too weak to stand. He clung to the man's side and cried,
"Master, save me! Please, master!"
The man frowned, pinching his nose.
"How did you end up so unlucky?"
Zhao was stunned. "I'm… unlucky?" He started to doubt the man's judgment—good at exorcism, maybe not so good at fortune-telling.
But the man saw his doubt and snorted.
"Looking at your face, you've been riding a wave of good fortune lately, haven't you? Especially in wealth?"
Zhao didn't want to offend the man, especially not in a cemetery, so he answered vaguely,
"I suppose… I've done fairly well recently."
The baby-faced man nodded.
"Your features suggest a 'Tower in Collapse' fate—soaring first, then crashing hard. Encountering ghosts tonight is just the beginning. Greater misfortune will come in waves."
He sighed again.
"If I'd known your fate, I wouldn't have saved you. Dying at the hands of those vengeful spirits might've been a mercy. Reincarnation would've been better."
Thinking of the spirits just now and the worse disasters yet to come, Zhao broke out in a cold sweat.
The man said softly,
"You should take this opportunity to say goodbye to your family—keep it short. Your bad luck has begun. Don't drag them down with you."
With that, he turned to leave. Zhao panicked and clung to his leg.
"Master, you must have a way to save me! I'll give you half my fortune if I survive this!"
The man chuckled bitterly.
"I'm not a monk or priest living off alms. What do I want with your money?"
Zhao was now more convinced than ever that the man was a true hidden master. He clung to his leg tighter.
"Master, you must help me!"
"Let go, this is embarrassing," the man muttered. Seeing no choice, he sighed.
"Alright. Fate brought us together. I'll give it a try. But listen carefully—whether I can save you doesn't depend on me. It depends on whether your fate includes a savior."
He then asked for Zhao's and his family's birth details. After some mental calculation, his furrowed brow slowly relaxed.
"Your fate is unusual," he said. "This 'Tower in Collapse' pattern is rare, but one of your family members has the fate of a Virtuous Guardian Child. Your savior is about to be born."
Zhao was confused.
"Master, what do you mean 'about to be born'?"
The baby-faced man smiled.
"She's in your daughter's womb. She'll be born in three days. Once she arrives, all your troubles will vanish. Your fate will shift from collapse to stability, blessed with fortune, longevity, and prosperity."
He paused, then added hesitantly,
"However…"
Zhao tensed again.
"Master, what now?"
The man hesitated, then said,
"A child of such extraordinary destiny is bound to have an unusual birth. She may face a small trial when she comes into this world. Things could still change."
Zhao pleaded,
"Master, please help! My grandchild's safe birth depends on you."
The man nodded.
"Even if you didn't ask, I would protect her. I have a connection with your savior."
Zhao finally relaxed. Eager to please, he added,
"When my grandchild grows up, I'll have her become your disciple."
The man's expression turned a little odd.
"Disciple… we'll talk about that later. Your savior's fate is complicated. I need to find a few helpers. I'll come find you in three days."
Zhao thanked him profusely. Then he suddenly remembered—
"Master, I didn't ask your name."
The man answered:
"Yang Xiao."