Li Chengfeng buttoned his wrinkled shirt, exhaustion weighing his limbs like lead. The drowned boys' spectral visit had left him hollow. When he opened the door, Ye Mengyao stood framed in dawn's gray light, her fury undimmed by sleepless shadows.
"I've told you—this isn't my curse!" he snapped. "Your family's graves are *rotting*. Dig them up, and you'll see!"
Ye Mengyao shoved past him into the shop. Her designer handbag gaped open, vomiting **ten stacks of 100-yuan bills** onto the tea table. Crimson paper fanned out like poisoned petals.
"You want money? Here's **100,000 yuan**." Her voice dripped venom. "Undo the hex, and you'll get **900,000 more**."
Li Chengfeng's throat tightened. The cash glowed obscenely—*ten years' rent, a lifetime of full stomachs*. He swallowed hard.
"Ms. Ye," he began, tearing his gaze from the money, "I'm above such… *vulgarity*." The lie tasted bitter. "But your filial piety moves me. For your father and aunt's sake, I'll help."
Ye Mengyao's sneer deepened. *Hypocrite.*
---
**Journey to the Ancestral Grounds**
The luxury SUV wound through Qingzhou's outskirts. Li Chengfeng clutched his **Triple Harmony compass**, its brass surface icy. Ye Mengyao's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.
"Why the graves?" she demanded.
"Curses fester where **yin energies** fester." He traced the compass's celestial markings. "Your ancestors' rest is… disturbed."
Two hours later, they stood before the Ye family cemetery. A low hill swelled like a tortoise's carapace, its "head" nuzzling a smaller mound—the "egg." A river coiled around the base, silver scales glittering in morning light.
Li Chengfeng's breath caught. "**Golden Tortoise Hatching Eggs**… a first-class feng shui formation!"