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Chapter 43 - Chapter 22: The Dread of Human Hearts (2/2)

The mountain was dotted with unmarked graves, sending chills down my spine. "Confident?" Mr. Ke asked.

I nodded, requesting his parents' birth-death dates and burial items. With my feng shui compass, I entered the hill. As feng shui says: "To know a grave's occupant, observe the vegetation; to know the cause of death, plants reveal the truth." Searching systematically—his parents died of old age (83 and 84)—I found a low mound at dusk. The Zhai Zhi records: "For elders, grass grows west; eastward-tilting grass brings male prosperity." This matched Mr. Ke's status. Burning his hair and nails on yellow paper, the smoke coiled above the mound.

Yelling down that I'd found it, I marked the spot. Mr. Ke promised the balance if it was his parents' grave. Exhausted, I returned to the hotel.

That night, I fended off several massage girls before sleeping. At midnight, I heard voices. Two elderly figures stood by my bed—a man whipping me with a willow branch, a woman straddling me, choking me. "Why disturb us? You deserve death!"

Paralyzed and breathless, I realized I'd encountered ghosts. Focusing, I recalled Maoshan exorcism spells. My yang fires must be weak. Chanting the Clear Spirit Incantation, I bit my tongue, spraying blood on them. Freedom returned, my body soaked in sweat.

Why would peaceful elders become vengeful spirits? They must be Mr. Ke's parents. As a yin-yang master, I felt ridiculous for being scared.

At dawn, I called Mr. Ke to visit the grave, but he refused, saying to wait. Worried, I sneaked there, spotting his Mercedes. Half an hour later, a tattooed Thai ajarn (shaman) emerged, receiving a red bag from Mr. Ke—containing leg bones.

Thai black magic uses corpses, oil, and grave soil to enslave spirits—far more vicious than feng shui yin techniques. The elders' ghosts blamed me for finding their grave.

After Mr. Ke paid the balance, I fled, warning: "Thai magic drains karma. They're your parents—let them rest." He smiled dismissively.

Boarding the plane, I received Zhao Na's call. "Dabao—my dad died in a car crash!" Her sobs hinted at something 诡异 (sinister).

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