I, the number one master of metaphysics, have achieved legendary status in the entertainment industr

In the glass sunroom of the Wang family villa, the afternoon sunlight is filtered and becomes warm and soft.

Zhou Li sat on a white rattan chair, slowly and methodically trimming the withered leaves of a pot of precious orchids.

Wang Zhentao leaned back in the recliner next to him, closing his eyes to rest.

Wang Huajian was already able to walk, and although he was still a little weak, the sinister look in his eyes had returned. He was scrolling through the online criticisms of Lu Fan on his phone when he suddenly sneered, "Mom, look, everyone online is calling Lu Fan a liar. Li Chen's video is even more effective than expected."

"Li Chen made a good move. Find someone who looks somewhat similar, fabricate a flawless story, and make the filming even more tragic." Zhou Li cut off the last withered leaf, put down the silver scissors, and wiped her hands with a silk handkerchief. "What netizens want is never the truth, but a story."

A pitiful person who has been robbed of their life-saving grace and their mother's belongings is naturally more trustworthy than a suddenly famous actor who can also act like a charlatan. Right now, 90% of people online believe Lu Fan is an ungrateful imposter.

"Serves him right!" Wang Huajian sat up straight, a gleeful snarl spreading across his face. "He dared to steal my woman and even dared to hit me! I'll make him suffer worse than death! I'll crush him into the mud."

I'll make sure he doesn't even dare to leave his house! I'd like to see who dares to go to his shabby studio!

"A studio?" Wang Zhentao opened his eyes, his tone indifferent. "Can that studio of his still operate now? Young man, overestimating yourself!"

Zhou Li picked up her bone china teacup and took a sip: "As for Su Qin, Li Guoming has already taken the bait. The company is also in turmoil. She's barely holding on herself now; she can only manage for a few more days at most."

"And then there's Yu Tinglan." Wang Huajian's eyes were sinister. "She was so good to Lu Fan before, and now she's being so good to Li Chen. She's completely abandoned Lu Fan, but I won't let her get away with it."

"I won't let any of these people's luck slip away." Zhou Li put down her teacup. "That leaves Ding Jianguo."

Wang Huajian looked at his father and said, "Dad, Old Man Ding seemed to think highly of Lu Fan before? He even tried to set him up with someone."

Wang Zhentao pondered for a moment: "Ding Jianguo is an old fox. He acts based on both profit and face. He helped Lu Fan before, partly to repay Ding Xingyou's favor, and partly because he probably genuinely thought Lu Fan had some value. But now..."

He sneered, "Ding Xingyou and Lu Fan have fallen out. Ding Jianguo is a doting father and won't help Lu Fan."

"That's enough." Zhou Li took a sip of tea, her tone resolute. "Without Ding Jianguo's faint but persistent care, Lu Fan would truly be a rootless duckweed."

What's left around him? A broken Su Qin? A washed-up agent, Feng Qianqian, barely surviving? Or Li Gang, just released from prison and nobody?

She put down her teacup, her voice laced with cold contempt: "Crushing them isn't much more troublesome than crushing ants."

Wang Huajian licked his lips excitedly: "Mom, after Mr. Qingsong successfully borrows the luck and I recover, could you leave Lu Fan with me? And those people around him... I want to personally 'thank' them for taking care of me during this time."

"Whatever you want," Zhou Li said casually. "As long as you don't make things too ugly, you're my son, Zhou Li's son. You can do whatever you want."

Wang Zhentao looked out at the bright courtyard and said slowly, "I've already contacted Mr. Qingsong; he's setting up an altar tonight. Lu Fan's last bit of fleeting luck will be over. When he falls, everyone will kick him while he's down; who will remember that he ever had any power?"

That night, in the basement of the Wang residence.

This place has been temporarily converted into a ritual altar.

Dark red banners hung on the four walls, moving automatically even without wind.

The ground was covered with a huge, nested array of gray powder mixed with cinnabar. In the center was a yin-yang symbol. Wang Huajian, wearing a black robe embroidered with obscure incantations, sat cross-legged at the yang eye position. His face was still pale, but his eyes were excited.

Qingsong changed into an apricot-yellow Taoist robe and held a peach wood sword with the tip touching the ground.

On the long table in front of him were a bowl of clear water, a bowl of rice mixed with incense ash, three white candles, and a small scarecrow. A piece of yellow paper was pasted on the scarecrow's chest, on which Lu Fan's birth date and time were written, and a talisman was drawn with cinnabar.

"This formation is called 'Ambush from Ten Sides'," Qing Song said, his voice echoing in the sealed basement. "It corresponds to the celestial stars above and the earth's veins below, locking in the fortunes of all ten directions, and is specifically designed to 'borrow' power."

He walked to the edge of the array and pointed to the ten directions in turn with the tip of his peach wood sword: "East is represented by Jia and Yi wood, which governs vitality and connections; South is represented by Bing and Ding fire, which governs reputation and prestige; West is represented by Geng and Xin metal, which governs wealth and opportunities; North is represented by Ren and Gui water, which governs wisdom and foundation; the four directions above and below are called the ten sides."

Zhou Li and Wang Zhentao stood outside the altar, holding their breath and concentrating.

"The Hua Sword resides in the Yang position of the array's core," Qingsong Sword pointed to the Wang Hua Sword in the center, "as the 'receiving' side. That's Lu Fan's birth date and aura as the catalyst."

He glanced at the scarecrow: "Lu Fan is the 'Yu' direction. Once the formation is activated, it will invisibly draw Lu Fan's fortune from all directions, like hundreds of rivers flowing into the sea, converging into Hua Jian's body."

Within three days, Lu Fan's luck waned, everything went wrong, and he was plagued by bad luck; while Hua Jian, on the other hand, would see his fortunes turn around, his luck would rebound, and he might even surpass his former glory.

Wang Huajian raised his head at the center of the formation, grinned, and revealed his gleaming white teeth.

"What about those who wanted to help Lu Fan?" Zhou Li pressed. "Su Qin, and those few henchmen."

Qingsong walked to the other side of the long table, where there was a smaller array diagram. In the center were several items: a fragment of decorative stone smuggled from Suqin Company, Feng Qianqian's business card, and an ordinary copper coin.

"This is called 'suppressing the local bullies'." Qingsong pointed at the small array with his peach wood sword, "By taking advantage of your family's current prosperity, Mr. Zhou's financial power, and Mr. Wang's prestige, we have formed a 'major torrent' to forcefully suppress and reverse these 'minor forces'."

If their own foundation is not as strong as your family's, their fortune will be suppressed and skewed, and you will be powerless to help them, or even unable to protect themselves.

Wang Zhentao nodded: "Right now, the only one who dares to openly help Lu Fan is Su Qin, but her company is facing internal and external troubles and can barely protect itself. People like Feng Qianqian and Li Gang are nothing but ants."

"Exactly." Qingsong nodded. "The tide is in our hands; they are like scattered sand, easily crushed with a flick of the wrist."

He said no more, walked to the front of the main formation, and lit three white candles. The flickering candlelight cast shadows on his face.

"The time has come. Do not make a sound or move rashly."

Qingsong closed his eyes and concentrated, chanting incantations at an extremely fast pace with strange syllables. He moved with the speed of a divine step, his peach wood sword drawing mysterious trajectories in the air, the tip occasionally touching the water or rice ash in the bowl.

Gradually, a draft began to blow in the basement. The prayer flags fluttered, and the candle flames stretched and twisted.