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

"Anecdotes of Extraordinary People - 'I, Xia He! Am not a scoundrel!'"

"Ever since she awakened her superpowers, wherever the girl went, she was always accompanied by insults and scornful looks from others. She was constantly called 'bitch,' 'slut,' and 'vixen.' Unable to bear it any longer, the girl clenched her fists, ignored the stares around her, and shouted to the sky."

Note: The anecdotes about extraordinary individuals do not follow the normal timeline of the main story!

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The autumn heatwave in Guangzhou is more venomous than mosquitoes in the mountains.

Over the next month, Zhang Lingyu's worldview underwent a brutal and inhumane reshaping.

As an "unofficial staff member" of Nadutong's South China branch, this high-ranking Taoist priest from the Tianshi Mansion, who usually never lifts a finger, has learned how to change the battery of an electric vehicle.

I learned how to use my unique personality to secure a comfortable spot on the subway during rush hour.

They might even argue with customers over a five-yuan delivery fee.

"Jade, this is the mortal world."

Yan Sen sat on the curb, holding an old-fashioned popsicle, and looked at Zhang Lingyu, who was sweating profusely as she carried a cardboard box labeled "Fragile" upstairs. He spoke earnestly.

"How can you see a rainbow without experiencing wind and rain? How can you understand the suffering of all beings if you've never delivered a package?"

Zhang Lingyu wiped the sweat from his forehead. There was some dust on the cuffs of his uniform. He didn't argue, but silently carried the boxes up to the sixth floor.

Although it was tiring and the tasks were trivial.

But he found that the tension he had always felt, the tension he had to maintain even while sleeping, seemed to have eased considerably.

Qian Lang's case was transferred smoothly. The cult remnant confessed in the interrogation room faster than beans spilled from a bamboo tube, only asking for a quick death.

As for the three survivors, the company arranged the best psychological intervention, but whether they can recover is up to fate.

The one-month period has ended.

Yan Sen refused Liao Zhong's "farewell drink" and, holding Zhang Lingyu's hand, boarded the train home.

......

Early autumn, slightly cool.

A green train chugged to a stop at the platform in Jiande, Zhejiang.

"We've arrived, get off the bus."

Yan Sen, carrying his familiar canvas bag and two boxes of wife cakes he brought back from Guangzhou, strode out of the carriage.

Zhang Lingyu followed closely behind. Although he was still dressed in white, the slightly mismatched hiking backpack he was carrying made him look like a student who had run away from home.

The two transferred buses and then walked a section of mountain road.

When the ancient village nestled against the mountains and beside the water, with its ingenious layout, came into view, Zhang Lingyu's steps visibly faltered.

He stopped in front of the stone tablet at the village entrance, and a rare look of surprise and confusion appeared in his usually cool eyes.

"This village..."

Zhang Lingyu frowned slightly, his fingers unconsciously calculating, "Kan is in the north and Li is in the south, but the direction of the water flow is against the Heavenly Stems. The road into the village looks flat, but in fact, every step is within the cycle of mutual generation and restraint of the Qimen Dunjia formation."

"Without someone to guide them, an ordinary extraordinary person probably wouldn't even be able to find their way to the village's main archway, would they?"

As expected of a high-ranking master from Longhu Mountain, he certainly has that much insight.

"Alright, stop reminiscing."

Yan Sen whistled, interrupting Zhang Lingyu's academic research. "This is just a village, inhabited by perfectly healthy people. It's not some den of dragons or tigers. It's only for guarding against honest people, not scoundrels. If a missile were to come at us, what could this Qimen technique possibly do to deflect it back?"

Zhang Lingyu: "..."

Even though she had gotten used to Yan Sen's jarring way of speaking, Zhang Lingyu still felt a tightness in her chest.

"Come on, let me show you inside."

Yan Sen chuckled and led Zhang Lingyu around the screen wall with practiced ease, heading straight for the large banyan tree at the village entrance, which was over a hundred years old.

Before I even got close, I could hear a sound of spittle flying everywhere, carried by the wind.

"...Let me tell you, that second daughter of the Zhuge family, the boyfriend she brought home the other day, I think he's a real jerk! His face, those flirtatious eyes, those thin lips—he looks like a heartless, cold-blooded guy! I'd bet my two acres of land on that!"

Under the banyan tree, a group of elderly men and women sat around, holding sunflower seeds in their hands, listening with great interest.

In the very center of the crowd, a middle-aged man wearing a tank top and flip-flops was squatting on a stone bench, telling his story with great enthusiasm, looking every bit like a storyteller.

Zhang Lingyu paused, turned to look at Yan Sen, her eyes filled with doubt: What do you want me to see? See someone else's boyfriend?

Yan Sen remained expressionless, and even seemed to want to laugh.

He cleared his throat, focused his breath, and shouted at the crowd.

"Father! I'm back!"

"Huh? Who? Who's back?"

The middle-aged man was so startled that he dropped the sunflower seeds in his hand and almost fell off the stone pillar.

Yan Que turned around abruptly and saw Yan Sen standing not far away, as well as the young Taoist priest standing behind Yan Sen who looked extraordinary.

He paused for a moment, then a smile as bright as a chrysanthemum bloomed on his old face.

"Oh my! My dear son!"

Yan Que nimbly jumped down, dusted himself off, and clasped his hands in a fist salute to the surrounding old neighbors: "Everyone, I'm sorry, my son is back. That's all for today. Let's talk again later!"

After saying that, he slipped on his flip-flops and ran over in a few quick steps.

"Father, this is my friend from Longhu Mountain, Zhang Lingyu, my grandmaster's last disciple," Yan Sen introduced.

"Hello, Uncle." Zhang Lingyu quickly bowed, bending at a ninety-degree angle. Although her image of "Uncle Yan" was still somewhat shattered, she dared not be the slightest bit negligent in her manners.

"Good, good, good! Such a handsome young man! Much more pleasing to the eye than my rascal!"

Yan Que grinned from ear to ear, his shrewd eyes scanning Zhang Lingyu up and down, and he nodded inwardly.

With that physique, that demeanor, that potential, he's a promising talent, but he looks a bit... too honest?

Wouldn't he be completely controlled by his own big son?

"Come on, let's go home! Your mom will be so happy if she knew you brought a friend home!"

Yan Que was inwardly irritated, but his expression remained unchanged. With a wave of his hand, he led the two into the alley.

......

The Yan family courtyard.

Pushing open the mottled wooden door, the scene in the courtyard brought Zhang Lingyu a long-lost sense of tranquility.

The old locust tree casts its shade, a game of chess sits on the stone table, and the ivy in the corner is lush and green.

"Your mom's not here?" Yan Que peeked out. "She's probably visiting Qing'er. Never mind her, let's all rest for a bit."

Under the old locust tree in the courtyard, next to the originally solitary recliner, there has appeared a brand new recliner that looks more exquisitely crafted.

Yan Que led Zhang Lingyu to sit down at the stone table, then plopped down on the old recliner, letting out a comfortable sigh.

Yan Sen didn't stand on ceremony and immediately took over the new recliner, sinking into it and instantly relaxing.

"Father, why is there an extra one?" Yan Sen touched the armrest; it felt warm and smooth to the touch, and was extremely well-polished. "The workmanship is really good."

"That's right." Yan Que swung his legs smugly. "Your mom saw that you liked to lie here when you came back last time, so she made this especially for you."

"I said she was being biased, and she said I was a rough guy and didn't deserve to lie in such a nice place."

Yan Que clicked his tongue, his tone tinged with a hint of sourness: "Tell me, the dignified successor of the Divine Strategist of the Marquis of Wu, with such masterful skills, instead of crafting magical artifacts, he's using them for woodworking to make reclining chairs? This... this is utterly disgraceful!"

"That's motherly love," Yan Sen hummed comfortably. "My mom is just feeling sorry for me."

Zhang Lingyu sat upright on the stone bench, listening to the father and son's informal conversation, and looking at the small courtyard full of life, he was momentarily in a daze.

Is this... Yan Sen's house?

There are no strict rules, no complicated etiquette, only this... almost carefree warmth.

Although it's against the rules, it looks... quite enviable.

A short while later, the courtyard gate was pushed open again.

Zhuge Ning walked in carrying a vegetable basket.

"Oh! My son's home!"

Zhuge Ning's eyes lit up when she saw Yan Sen. She shoved the basket into Yan Que's arms, rushed over, and cupped Yan Sen's face in her hands, rubbing it vigorously. "You've gotten so dark and thin! Did you not eat well outside?"

Of course, Zhang Lingyu was not left out either; Zhuge Ning had a beaming smile on her face.

"This must be Lingyu, right? Yansen often mentions you on the phone, saying you took special care of him on the mountain. This boy is so handsome! Come, sit down, Auntie will go make you some food!"

Zhang Lingyu blushed slightly at Zhuge Ning's enthusiasm, waving her hands repeatedly and stealing glances at Yan Sen, "Auntie, you're too kind. It's Yan Sen who's been 'taking care' of me..."

"That's only right." Zhuge Ning smiled and ushered him into the house, then turned and yelled at Yan Que, "Still lying there?! Can't you see we have guests? Go kill a chicken!"

"Yes, sir!"

Yan Que sprang up instantly, his movements so swift as to be astonishing, showing no trace of the half-dead state he had just appeared in.

......

Dinner was very plentiful.

Zhuge Ning's cooking skills are impeccable, with authentic Jiangnan flavors. The braised pork is fatty but not greasy, the steamed perch is tender and delicious, and the unfortunate old hen has been transformed into a pot of fragrant chicken soup.

At the dinner table, Yan Que was still the talkative man who controlled the pace of the whole meal, probing Zhang Lingyu from his birth date and time to whether he had a girlfriend, which scared the young Taoist priest so much that he only dared to bury his head in his rice.

After a satisfying meal, Yan Sen patted his belly and let out a contented burp.

"Lingyu, if you're bored," Yan Sen pointed outside the courtyard wall, "turn left when you go out, and you'll see the most conspicuous mansion in the center of the village. You can go find Zhuge Qing to hang out with. That kid should have a lot in common with you."

"Zhuge Qing?" Zhang Lingyu was taken aback. "Is he home too?"

"Of course he's home," Yan Sen said with a wicked grin. "If you go, he'll definitely give you a warm welcome."

Zhang Lingyu couldn't stand Yan Que's incessant gossip any longer, so she fled the courtyard as if she had been granted a pardon.

Following Yan Sen's directions, he quickly found the Zhuge family's mansion.

Before even entering, I saw a young man with short blue hair and squinting eyes standing at the door, seemingly waiting for someone.

"Master Lingyu." Zhuge Qing didn't show much surprise when he saw Zhang Lingyu. Instead, he revealed a meaningful smile. "Long time no see."

"Brother Zhuge," Zhang Lingyu returned the greeting with a cupped hand, "Yan Sen sent me to find you..."

"I know." Zhuge Qing opened the folding fan, shook it gently, and gestured for me to come in. "Come in and let's talk. Ever since I heard that troublemaker... oh no, I heard that my uncle was back, I knew you would come."

The two arrived at Zhuge Qing's courtyard and took their seats as host and guest, respectively.

The aroma of tea wafts through the air, and the moonlight is as clear as water.

Two young men, both from prestigious families, both exceptionally talented, and both handsome, sat facing each other in silence for a moment.

"Um..." Zhang Lingyu broke the silence first, tentatively asking, "Was Yan Sen... this... lively when he was at your house?"

Zhuge Qing's hand trembled, and a few drops of tea spilled out.

He put down his teacup, and his squinting eyes opened slightly, revealing a hint of unconcealed vicissitude.

"Lively?" Zhuge Qing gave a wry smile and pointed to the bluestone slab under his feet. "See this paving stone? It was right here that he slapped me into the ground, and I had to pull myself out myself."

Zhang Lingyu: "!!!"

A strong feeling called "soulmate" instantly struck Zhang Lingyu's heart.

"To be honest..." Zhang Lingyu took a deep breath, her eyes turning resentful, "Two days ago at Baiyun Mountain in Guangzhou, he used me as a lightning rod, which attracted a bolt of lightning... For the entire day after that, my speech was accompanied by black smoke."

The air fell silent for another three seconds.

then.

Two long, strong hands clasped tightly together.

"Explain in detail!"

"Tell me more about it!"

In this quiet environment, an organization called the "Yansen Victims Alliance" was quietly established.

And in the Yan family's courtyard not far away.

Yan Sen was lying in a rocking chair, looking at the blue sky above, holding a can of cola in his hand, and swinging his legs comfortably.

"Achoo!"

He rubbed his nose and muttered, "Who's talking about me? It must be Xiaoyu praising me."

Yan Que rolled over beside him, covering his face with a palm-leaf fan, and mumbled, "Son, enjoy it. These peaceful and tranquil days are numbered."

Yan Sen paused, then smiled, raised his Coke can, and toasted the sky.

"Yes, that's life."

No matter how many storms may come in the future, at least today, the sun is shining brightly and the wind is gentle.

The lives of extraordinary people are not much different from those of ordinary people.