Zombie Life Begins in Hongxi Village

Lin Yi chuckled and waved his hand dismissively: "Brother, what era are we living in? Apart from that puppet emperor in the north, who else can be an emperor?"

"It can't be wrong. I, Yang Feiyun, am an expert in feng shui and fortune telling, and I have never made a mistake in my life."

Yang Feiyun had a gentle and refined appearance, but his tone was full of arrogance, and his bright eyes shone with an almost obsessive certainty.

"Oh? Is that so?"

Lin Yi seemed intrigued, leaning forward slightly with a playful smile. "Then can you predict when I'll become emperor?"

These words sounded playful, more like a casual joke.

But Yang Feiyun did not take it as a joke at all.

His expression hardened, his face became serious, his eyes slightly closed, and his fingertips moved rapidly in a pinching motion.

That's impossible.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Yang Feiyun's forehead.

Everyone has their own destiny, even a beggar on the street has their own karmic trajectory.

But apart from that dazzlingly bright imperial destiny, everything else about the person in front of him was blank.

He refused to believe in superstition, gritted his teeth, and used his essence and blood to activate the most powerful divination method of Plum Blossom Divination, attempting to forcefully penetrate that blank layer.

However, his deductions were like a mud ox sinking into the sea, failing to even cause a ripple.

Instead, a backlash struck his chest like a heavy hammer.

Oh no! It's a backlash from the heavens!!

Yang Feiyun groaned, his face suddenly turning deathly pale. Then, he felt a sweet taste in his throat and spat out a mouthful of blood.

He clutched his chest, panting heavily, sweat dripping down his face, looking as if he had just been pulled out of the water.

"Brother Yang, are you alright?"

Lin Yi stood up with a concerned look, walked around the table, and supported his shoulder. "Looking at you, why did you suddenly vomit blood?"

"It's nothing." Yang Feiyun took out a faded but neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped the bloodstains from the corner of his mouth.

He looked up and glanced at Lin Yi with a complicated expression.

"It is because my skills are not refined enough and my abilities are shallow. Even though I can see that you possess the aura of a supreme ruler, I am powerless to predict your destiny and cannot foresee when you will ascend to that position above all others."

On the surface, he admitted that he was inferior in skill. But in his heart, a storm was brewing.

Yang Feiyun has been traveling the world for twenty years and has deduced at least eighty or a hundred different destinies, from high-ranking officials to ordinary people. There has never been a single person whose destiny he was completely unable to analyze.

Even a grandmaster like Mao Xiaofang, who was well-versed in Taoist arts, could deduce a rough idea from it.

But this young man before them, apart from his supreme destiny, seemed to have been completely erased from the world.

It is not within the Three Realms, nor within the Six Paths, nor within the scope of any rules of destiny.

This young man in front of us is definitely hiding a huge, earth-shattering secret!

Yang Feiyun spent half his life obsessed with one thing—changing his fate.

He was born with a mediocre destiny, destined to live an ordinary life of simple meals and plain tea. No matter how much wealth he accumulated beyond his means, it would all be lost due to various accidents.

He refused to accept his fate. He studied feng shui, numerology, plum blossom divination, and Taoist magic, all in the hope that one day he could defy fate and completely rewrite his broken destiny.

He would do anything to change his fate!

Now, a completely new possibility is presented to him.

Legend has it that the emperor, the supreme ruler, possesses the power of heaven, and can easily change a person's fate with a single word.

If this young man could really become emperor, wouldn't his wish to change his fate be easily fulfilled?

A single imperial edict, a decree, or even just a single word from the emperor can completely rewrite his destiny.

Compared to risking everything to scheme against Mao Xiaofang, following this person and gaining merit as a follower of the emperor seems more cost-effective.

What can a lifetime of wealth compare to becoming a high-ranking official or a figure of lasting fame?

Yang Feiyun believed that his talent was second to none, and that all he lacked was an opportunity.

If one could truly assist in the creation of a founding emperor, the sense of accomplishment would far surpass any of the petty scheming and manipulative plots of the past.

After all, his lineage's patriarch was the historically renowned Black-Robed Prime Minister Yao Guangxiao.

Back then, Yao Guangxiao, a monk, assisted Zhu Di, the Prince of Yan, in the Jingnan Campaign for three years, and in one fell swoop, he established the Yongle Emperor's lasting dynasty.

If the patriarch could do it, why couldn't Yang Feiyun do it?

Thinking of this, Yang Feiyun's heart pounded uncontrollably a few times.

The obsession with changing his fate and the ambition to achieve great things burned fiercely in his heart, almost burning away the mask of gentleness and refinement he had maintained for decades.

But he was still Yang Feiyun, the Yang Feiyun who could act in front of Mao Xiaofang without being exposed.

He suppressed these surging thoughts deep within his heart, not revealing a trace of them on his face.

His face still maintained that gentle and refined appearance.

However, the look in his eyes as he looked at Lin Yi held a hint of subtle inquiry and a very delicate expectation.

"Oh, that's such a shame."

Lin Yi shook his head regretfully, his expression seemingly expressing genuine sorrow at not being able to predict when he would become emperor.

He took out a Hong Kong dollar bill worth a thousand dollars from his wallet and casually placed it on the table in front of Yang Feiyun, speaking with concern.

"I'm sorry to have caused Brother Yang to get injured. Take this money and buy some tonics to help you recover. That mouthful of blood just now doesn't seem like a minor injury."

A thousand Hong Kong dollars was no small sum in an era when the average worker's monthly salary was only twenty or thirty dollars.

A bowl of wonton noodles costs only a few cents, and a villa in Kowloon Tong costs only 100,000 Hong Kong dollars. This amount of money is enough for an ordinary family to live comfortably for more than half a year.

"No, no, I can't accept this money. It's already presumptuous of me to read your face without permission, let alone the fact that I haven't even figured anything out. How can I have the face to accept your money?" Yang Feiyun quickly declined, his attitude firm.

His gaze lingered on the thousand-dollar bill for a moment before he looked away.

It's not that he thinks it's too little, it's that he really doesn't want to accept it. His destiny is to not be able to save money, so accepting it would be a waste, and sooner or later it would all be lost due to various accidents.

It's more important to use this to gain Lin Yi's favor.

"For me, enough money is enough. Too much will only cause trouble."

Lin Yi didn't take it back. She waved her hand and said casually but firmly, "Take it. This little bit of money is nothing to me."

Yang Feiyun's eyes flickered again, as if he was weighing something.

A moment later, he reached out, carefully folded the thousand-dollar bill and put it in his pocket, then solemnly cupped his hands towards Lin Yi: "Since that's the case, then I'll shamelessly accept it."

However, I don't need that much money myself. The roof of the orphanage was blown off by a typhoon last month, so I'll donate this money to the charity on my husband's behalf, as a way to accumulate good karma for him.

"Brother Yang is a man of great virtue." Lin Yi nodded approvingly, a meaningful smile flashing in his eyes.