Under One Person: Feng Shui Master, I Will Protect the Mountains and Rivers with My Own Body

The wind in the yard seemed to have stopped.

The leaves of the old locust tree no longer rustled, and even the steam rising from the freshly brewed Biluochun tea seemed to be suppressed by some invisible force.

Yan Que's expression was no longer the usual playful smile; instead, it was extremely solemn.

Those eyes, which were usually squinted and revealed a shrewd calculation, were now open, and deep within their pupils was a chilling scrutiny.

"Son, do you know him?"

Yan Que's voice was very soft, but it was like a taut string that would break at the slightest touch.

Yan Sen's heart skipped a beat, and he thought to himself, "Oh no!"

This old man usually seems unreliable, but when it comes to important matters, he's as astute as a fox.

He had accurately captured even his momentary loss of composure, down to the mere second his pupils contracted.

This time, pretending to be stupid won't work anymore.

"I know a little." Yan Sen scratched his head with a wry smile, placed the photo on the stone table, and unconsciously stroked the face of the young man in the white shirt with his fingers. "When I was accompanying Grandpa Tian at Longhu Mountain, he mentioned it to me briefly."

"Old Tian?" Yan Que's brows furrowed even more. "Why would he tell you this?"

"It wasn't on purpose," Yan Sen shrugged, explaining half-jokingly, "You know how ill Grandpa Tian is. Although I helped him regulate his meridians, he's still getting old. Sometimes when he's feeling energetic, he likes to tell me old stories. He talks about his travels when he was young, and how he and Grand Tutor searched the world for Grand Tutor Huaiyi."

Yan Sen paused, observing his father's expression, and continued, "And in all the stories he told, there was always one person he couldn't avoid. Grandpa Tian never mentioned his name, always referring to him as 'that person,' 'that troublemaker,' or 'that madman.' It wasn't until one time, when Grandpa Tian accidentally let it slip, that I heard those three words for the first time."

Yan Sen took a deep breath and slowly exhaled: "Wu Gensheng, the leader of Quanxing Sect, was the instigator of the Jia Shen Rebellion. He bewitched thirty-five other talented individuals into becoming sworn brothers with him. Later, these thirty-six people were known to the world as the Thirty-Six Thieves."

"That's all I know." Yan Sen shrugged, looking completely innocent. "But I really didn't expect that my great-grandfather would have connections with such a devil? This doesn't make sense, Dad."

Yan Que did not respond immediately.

He stared intently into Yan Sen's eyes, as if trying to confirm whether his son truly only knew this much.

After a long while, he slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, his tense shoulders relaxing, but his tone remained frighteningly serious.

"Yes, that's all you know."

Yan Que pointed a finger at Yan Sen's nose and said, enunciating each word clearly, "If anyone outside asks, no matter who it is, even if it's Zhao Fangxu, even if it's the Old Master asking you! Remember this, son, that's all you know! Don't say a single extra word!"

"And another thing!" Yan Que emphasized, "Put away that damned curiosity of yours! Don't follow this lead, don't inquire about Wu Gensheng's whereabouts, and definitely don't try to find out where this photo was taken! Do you understand?"

Yan Sen was stunned.

He had never seen his father so solemn. It was as if Yan Que was facing a primordial beast about to awaken, and he was desperately covering Yan Sen's mouth, afraid of disturbing the beast.

Although Zhuge Ning, who was standing next to her, did not speak, she was also silently gathering the peeled orange peels together, her eyes revealing a solemn tacit agreement.

"No, Dad, that's not being reasonable."

Yan Sen frowned, his doubts growing wildly like weeds. "Since this matter is so serious, so serious that it can't be mentioned or investigated, why did you keep this photo? And why did you deliberately let me see it?"

"If we really wanted to live in anonymity, we could just burn this photo. Even if you don't tell me who this person is, you could just make up some nonsense and say he's your second uncle, and I'd believe you, wouldn't I?" Yan Sen retorted.

"You're telling me this is a bomb that explodes with the slightest friction, but you won't tell me where the fuse is. Aren't you just torturing me?"

Moreover, this is just too unreasonable.

There are countless rumors in the martial arts world about the Thirty-Six Thieves. The righteous sects are so eager to hunt them down that they would practically dig up their ancestral graves.

Even a wandering martial artist without a master can be unearthed, so why is it that my great-grandfather had such a long period of contact with Wugensheng, and even left a photo together, yet there is not a word about it in the martial arts world?

unless......

Unless everyone who knew about this back then is dead.

Or perhaps, the matter itself is of such a high level that even those prestigious sects cannot access it.

Yan Que sighed, took out the unlit tobacco from his pocket, and took a deep sniff, as if trying to draw courage from the tobacco scent to tell his story.

"You've got a sharp tongue, kid."

Yan Que gave a wry smile and pointed to the imposing old man sitting in the middle of the photo.

"This photo was specially requested by your great-grandfather before he passed away to be passed down. He said it was the most absurd thing he had ever done in his life."

"That was the summer of 1943." Yan Que's voice became somewhat ethereal, as if piercing through the mists of time. "At that time, the sworn brotherhood of the Thirty-Six Thieves had not yet occurred, but due to the situation at the time, the atmosphere of impending storm had already permeated the entire world of supernatural beings. One day, Wu Gensheng came to our house."

"Did he come alone?" Yan Sen couldn't help but interject.

"No, it's two people. Holding a child." Yan Que pointed to the baby being held in Wu Gengsheng's arms in the photo. "It's this one."

Yan Sen's gaze fell on the baby. The black and white photo was somewhat blurry, making it difficult to see the baby's face, but it was clear that she was a girl, wrapped in swaddling clothes, and looking peaceful.

"What does he want with his grandfather?"

"I don't know." Yan Que shook his head. "Your grandfather said that Wugensheng and your great-grandfather talked all night in the house that night. The next morning, your great-grandfather packed his bags and left with Wugensheng. They were gone for a whole month."

"Where did you go? What did you do?"

"Nobody knows." Yan Que spread his hands. "Your grandfather only knows that your great-grandfather returned a month later. But he was a completely different person."

"It's changed?"

"Yes. His spirit and energy have completely collapsed." A trace of regret flashed in Yan Que's eyes. "When he left, your great-grandfather was still a strong old man full of energy. When he came back, his hair was all white, his body was hunched, and his innate Qi was almost exhausted, like an oil lamp that was about to burn out."

Yan Sen's heart skipped a beat.

One month was enough to exhaust a top-tier ground master's life cultivation and vitality.

What exactly did they do? Defy fate? Or...do something that defied the will of heaven?

"After he came back, your great-grandfather's health deteriorated day by day. But he held on to his last breath until a few years later, when he was showing signs of a final burst of energy before he managed to save Grandpa Tian. After that, he returned home and died completely."

Yan Que stroked the creases on the edge of the photo, his voice low and somber: "Before he died, your great-grandfather called your grandfather to his bedside and handed him this photo. He said two things."

"Which two sentences?" Yan Sen held his breath.

"The first sentence is: In the eyes of the righteous, Wugensheng may be a villain or a madman, but in the eyes of others, he is a leader. He does not learn from the ancients or from nature, but from his own heart. But to Yan Hong, he is a fool who knows it is impossible but does it anyway."

Yan Que paused, then looked at Yan Sen: "The second sentence is: This world cannot tolerate him, and history will erase him. But I, Yan Hong, respect his character, perhaps because of the mutual appreciation between seekers of the Dao, or perhaps because of something else. What I want to do is to preserve this photograph. Even if one day impermanence arrives, the world changes, and time passes, even if the world forgets him, at least in my Yan family, there will still be someone who remembers... that such a 'lawless' bastard once existed in this world."

After hearing this, Yan Sen felt his head buzzing.

That's a pointless explanation!

Aside from establishing Wugensheng as a stubborn bastard who "listens to himself and no one else" and confirming that his great-grandfather was a loyal and stubborn old man, there was absolutely no other key information!

Who is that child?

Where did they go?

What exactly did Grandpa do with Wugensheng? Was it worth risking his life for an outcome? Or even whether they succeeded at all is another matter.

"Dad, the way you're telling this story is like a novelist writing fragments, getting stuck at the crucial point and then disappearing?" Yan Sen looked constipated. "So, my great-grandfather just went on a trip with Wugensheng, and came back drained of his life force? This Wugensheng... could he be a male demon? Like the tree demon Granny who specializes in sucking people's life essence?"

"Pfft—cough cough cough!"

Zhuge Ning, who was drinking water from her teacup, suddenly spat it out. Forgetting all about maintaining a ladylike image, she coughed and glared at her son, yelling, "What nonsense are you spouting! What tree demon granny?!"

Yan Que's face darkened, and he raised his hand to slap him: "You little brat, what kind of garbage is in your head! I've already told you all this, if I knew, wouldn't I have told you already!"

"Then tell me, how can a perfectly healthy person become useless after just one month away?" Yan Sen shouted while dodging the question. "That's not scientific! It's not mystical either!"

"Alright!"

Yan Que withdrew his hand, giving him a disgruntled glare. "Anyway, that's all I know. That's why there are no rumors circulating in the martial arts world—because apart from your great-grandfather and Wugensheng, no one else was involved. As long as our family doesn't tell anyone, who would know?"

"So, son," Yan Que lay back in the rattan chair, covering his face with a palm-leaf fan, his voice muffled, "listen to your father's advice. Some things are better left buried than dug up. The name Wugensheng is a huge vortex in the world of supernatural beings that has yet to stop spinning. Whoever gets involved dies. The reason our family has been able to survive peacefully until now is because of 'not seeing what shouldn't be seen, and not asking what shouldn't be asked.'"

"Go to sleep. You're going to visit your older brother tomorrow, don't look embarrassed with those dark circles under your eyes."

Yan Sen looked at his father's nonchalant attitude, as if to say, "I have read it, you may leave," and knew that he wouldn't get anything out of him by asking any more questions.

He picked up the photo, took a deep look at the young man with a bright smile holding a baby, and then turned and went back into the house.

……

That night, Zhuge Bagua Village was unusually quiet; there wasn't even a sound of dogs barking.

But Yan Sen successfully suffered from insomnia.