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

"Tales of Extraordinary People: Xia He 2 - 'Where else can I go?'"

"In the deserted park at midnight, a girl sat on the edge of a bench, hugging her knees. Even stray dogs couldn't resist her charm and were circling around her. On her bewildered face, pinkish aura covered the tear tracks."

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

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The afternoon sun dappled through the leaves of the old locust tree, casting dappled patterns on the bluestone slabs of the Yan family courtyard.

Birds chirped idly in the treetops, their calls instilling a sense of languor deep within one's bones.

Yan Que lay on the recliner that he had used for more than ten years, his face covered by the tattered palm-leaf fan. With each breath, the fan rose and fell, emitting a soft snore.

Yan Sen sat in the new chair next to him, holding a half-empty can of cola in his hand, a flash of bluish-gold light passing through his eyes as he stared at his father.

"father."

"Hmm?" Yan Que didn't move, his voice muffled coming from under the palm-leaf fan, "Out of money again? Go ask your mother for some, I'm penniless."

"I don't want money, I just want to tell you something interesting."

Yan Sen shook the Coke can and told Yan Que how he had "helped" Zhang Lingyu and how he had guided and changed his personality.

"Oh......"

Yan Que lifted a corner of the palm-leaf fan, revealing half of his squinting eye.

"That simple-minded boy is just too honest. He only got lucky with the old master; otherwise, he would have been sold out sooner or later."

"It's much better now. It was much worse before." Yan Sen smiled, took a sip of cola, and the sweet liquid slid down his throat, but it couldn't suppress the inexplicable restlessness in his heart.

He put down the Coke can, the metal bottom of which clattered against the stone table.

"Dad, are you alright?"

The question came out of nowhere, and even seemed abrupt.

Yan Que paused for a moment, then covered his face with the palm-leaf fan, shrank back into the recliner, and let out a few muffled laughs.

"Ha... what nonsense are you talking about? Your dad has a great appetite, is in excellent health, and this morning I even went to the morning market to compete with those old men and women for discounted eggs. What could be wrong with me?"

Yan Sen didn't laugh.

He simply stared at Yan Que silently, his eyes devoid of any emotion, as if he could see into the deepest recesses of people's hearts.

"Yeah?"

Without any warning, Yan Sen raised his right hand, palm down, and pressed down into the air.

"Buzz—!"

The air seemed to be sucked out instantly, and a visible ripple of earthy yellow hue emanated from Yan Sen and suddenly pressed down on the recliner where Yan Que was.

Spleen Earth Metal Light - Heavy Pressure.

Although the force was controlled, the gravity was still enough to make an ordinary superhuman kneel down on the spot.

"Squeak."

The old rattan chair that had been with Yan Que for over a decade let out a mournful cry of despair, its legs instantly sinking half an inch into the soil.

That terrifying gravity, seemingly emanating from the depths of the earth, was relentlessly squeezing every inch of his bones and every muscle.

"what?"

Yan Que did not use any means to resolve the situation. He simply raised his eyebrows, looked at his son, and showed no panic in his eyes, only a well-hidden sense of relief and... helplessness.

"Want to test your father's skills? See if I'm really getting old?"

"yes."

Yan Sen stood up and looked down at the man who was hunched over by the weight of the object.

His tone was very soft, as soft as a gentle breeze.

But a barely perceptible tremor was hidden in those eyes.

"I would like to ask you to stand up."

Yan Sen had a smile on his lips, but his eyes were full of complex emotions.

"I've been through so much already, and you always say you're lazy and don't want to move. Today is the perfect time, and I'd like to ask you to stand up and, after so long... give me some pointers."

Yan Que looked at his son.

The childishness of those young faces had faded, and there were still faint traces of my own youth in their features, but the domineering and confident aura emanating from their very bones was something I had never had before.

This is his seed.

It's a race that's many times stronger than him.

"OK."

Yan Que grinned.

"Since my son wants to see it, then as his father... I can't just lie there."

"rise!"

He was like an ordinary, somewhat aged middle-aged man struggling with the passage of time.

Yan Que's arms were trembling, and the veins on his neck were bulging like wriggling earthworms.

Sweat trickled down his forehead and dripped into the dust.

But he really is getting back on his feet, little by little.

Despite the overwhelming golden light emanating from Yan Sen's spleen that could crush ordinary superhumans, he managed to stand up straight!

Slow, but determined.

"Huff... huff..."

Yan Que was panting heavily, and although he was standing with some difficulty, his eyes were frighteningly bright.

"How are you doing? Your dad... is he alright?"

Yan Sen looked at the panting man in front of him, the bluish-gold light in his eyes slowly fading away.

He also dissipated that gravity.

"no."

Yan Sen shook his head, his tone becoming more serious than ever before.

"Your cultivation level has not only failed to improve, but has actually regressed considerably."

Yan Sen stepped forward, supported the swaying Yan Que, and placed his fingers on his pulse.

"Back then at Longhu Mountain, you could still unleash a burst of Qi that could pierce through the rock face and transform iron into water with your heart's fire Qi. Now, the amount of Qi in your body is more than 20% less than it was then."

"Why is that? You didn't tell me the truth back then."

Yan Sen stared intently into Yan Que's eyes, giving him no chance to dodge.

Yan Que's smile gradually faded.

He bent down to pick up the palm-leaf fan from the ground, patted off the dust, and lay back down in the chair. His gaze became somewhat unfocused, as if he were looking at the sky, or perhaps at that elusive fate.

"The practice of cultivation is like rowing against the current; if you don't advance, you fall behind."

Yan Que said calmly, as if he were talking about someone else's business.

"This is normal, no need to make a fuss. It won't have much of an impact on me, at most... I used to live to be a hundred, now I'll live to be seventy or eighty. It'll just mean I'll do square dancing a few less years, no big deal."

"Living twenty or thirty years less and you call it no big deal?!" Yan Sen suddenly raised his voice, his fists clenched. "Was it the same for Grandpa? Was it the same for Great-Grandpa? Is this what they call 'two generations never seeing each other again'?"

Yan Que remained silent for a long while, then nodded.

"When your grandfather passed away, even his vital energy dissipated, and he looked no different from an ordinary old man."

Yan Que sighed.

"It's not that I haven't tried to find a solution. I've resigned myself to my fate, but I don't want you to end up like me... So I went to ancient tombs, to look for lost techniques, and even considered going to Longhu Mountain, just to see if I could find a way."

He gave a bitter laugh and spread his hands: "Unfortunately, your father's abilities are limited. Even now, I haven't found the answer. Perhaps this is truly the price to pay. The earth's veins have a spirit; they gave you earth-shattering abilities, but they always have to take something away from you."

Yan Sen felt as if his heart was being squeezed tightly, and he felt a sharp pain.

He always thought that his father's "retreating" back then was to make room for him to grow, a kind of concession in his spiritual practice.

But he never expected the price to be so high.

"Was the same in my great-grandfather's generation?" Yan Sen took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and asked.

To be honest, I don't know either.

Yan Que shook his head. "That's what your great-grandfather told your grandfather, and that's what your grandfather told me, so that's the only way I can tell you. Our lineage is sparsely populated, and there are very few records. Many things... have been lost."

He raised his eyelids and looked at his son, whose expression was grave: "You suspect... your great-grandfather..."

Yes, I have my doubts.

Yan Sen nodded heavily. "I can't go into the specific reasons, but I feel there's a problem, and a big problem at that."

In my mind, countless seemingly unrelated clues began to connect wildly.

Feng Baobao's bizarre immortality and erased memories.

The mysterious person she met in the mountains had a Qi aura similar to her own "Hanlong Scripture".

A photo of my great-grandfather Yan Hong with that "troublemaker" Wu Gensheng, and that mysterious trip.

And then there's that giant snake from Northeast China—the python Qingfeng, with its hesitant attitude and its seemingly plausible but ultimately flawed calculations.

In addition, there was the dissipation of Yan Que's cultivation.

All of this seems completely unrelated, yet it is inexplicably connected, like a giant net hanging over Yan Sen's head.

This cannot be explained simply by saying "Heaven is wary".

If it is the will of Heaven, then what is Feng Baobao, who is immortal?

Is it a bug?

"father."

Yan Sen looked at his father's face, his voice low and somber.

"I promised you I wouldn't follow the clues in that old photo, nor would I touch that mess that Wugensheng made... Dad, I'm going to break my promise."

Yan Que looked at his son, at his eyes that were no longer childish.

He seemed to see his father from back then, and also himself from back then.

Back then, they were also full of vigor and wanted to break free from this damned fate.

But in the end, they all compromised.

They chose self-sacrifice so that the next generation could live better lives.

But now...

"well......"

Yan Que sighed, picked up a palm-leaf fan, and gently fanned himself twice.

"Investigate, investigate." Yan Que's voice carried a hint of relief, yet also a touch of helplessness. "I didn't listen to your grandfather either, and I've been secretly investigating for years, so I have no reason to demand that you listen to me. That's fate; we're all inherently restless."

He sat up straight, looked at Yan Sen, and his expression was unusually serious, even carrying an unprecedented solemnity.

"Son, even now, I still say the same thing."

Yan Que stretched out his rough, large hand and pressed hard on Yan Sen's shoulder.

"Even if having you makes it impossible for me to cultivate, or even turns me into a cripple, I have never regretted letting your mother give birth to you."

"Being able to raise you to this age in good health is the greatest achievement of my life."

"No matter when, as long as you are alive, happy, and living well, I will be extremely happy."

Yan Sen felt a lump in his throat and his eyes well up with tears.

He wasn't used to such sentimental scenes, especially with his usually unserious father.

"Hmm..." Yan Sen lowered his head and responded with a muffled sound.

"Of course!" Yan Que changed the subject abruptly, his touching expression instantly crumbling back into his usual playful grin.

"If you can really find out the results, that would be even better! Dad wants to live a few more years too! Our family won't have a full house of children and grandchildren, since it's a single son in each generation, but we can still try for four generations under one roof! Go for it, my good son! I believe in you!"

Yan Sen: "..."

Sure enough, this is his real father; he can't be serious for more than three seconds.

"Does my mom know about this?" Yan Sen sniffed, bringing the topic back on track.

"Of course, I told her before we got married. How could I hide something like this from her?" Yan Que said frankly. "Your mother is truly a heroine. After hearing my story, she only said 'I do' and then she married me... cough, married me."

Yan Sen's lips twitched.

"That's good. I guess my mom always beats you because she wants to see how you're doing these days?"

"Ah? You're definitely overthinking it." Yan Que waved his hand, looking still shaken. "That was just because she was itching to hit me. Let me tell you, your mother really hurts when she hits people; she never holds back."

At this point, Yan Que suddenly perked up, adopting the air of someone who had been through it all, and earnestly lectured:

"Hey, son, let me tell you, you'd better keep your eyes open when you look for a wife. Don't get married too early, you know? Marriage is a grave! Look at your father, how handsome and dashing I was back then, so unrestrained and carefree, and look what happened? Now my status in the family is less than a dog's..."

Yan Que was so engrossed in his speech that he was spitting everywhere, completely unaware that Yan Sen was frantically giving him meaningful glances.

"Cough cough! Cough cough cough!" Yan Sen pretended to cough violently, his eyelids almost twitching from blinking.

"What's wrong? Sore throat? I told you to drink less cola and more water." Yan Que, oblivious, continued, "Let me tell you, you have no idea what the pain of love is..."

"Yeah?"

A voice, so gentle it made one's bones melt, yet carrying a chilling undercurrent, drifted softly from behind Yan Que.

"So that's what you think? Marrying me...is it going to be tough?"

Yan Que's body instantly stiffened, remaining in the posture of waving a palm leaf fan, like a petrified statue.

He mechanically turned his head and saw Zhuge Ning standing behind him, a benevolent smile on her face, her beautiful eyes slightly narrowed, exuding a murderous aura.

"Um...wife..."

Yan Que swallowed hard, his expression instantly switching from "life mentor" to "submissive," a change so swift it was astonishing.

"You...you have to let me explain..."

"What I just said was... the sweetness of love! Yes! Sweet! You have no idea how happy I am! Really!"

"hehe."

Zhuge Ning raised an eyebrow, her tone unfriendly: "Really? That's perfect, let's have a good 'sweet' time later, and I'll help you recall your handsome and dashing days."

She cracked her wrists, making a series of snapping sounds.

"Son, what would you like to eat tonight?" Zhuge Ning turned to look at Yan Sen, her face beaming with smiles.

"Anything's fine," Yan Sen replied immediately, then quickly grabbed the Coke on the table and slipped away. "Um, Dad, Mom, I just remembered I still have some cultivation-related matters I haven't figured out yet, I'll go back to my room first! You two... can talk slowly!"

After saying that, Yan Sen dashed into the house and slammed the door shut behind him.

From the courtyard came Yan Que's mournful screams.

"Wife! Don't hit my face! I still have to see people! Ouch—!"

Yan Sen leaned against the door, listening to the sounds outside, but the smile on his lips gradually faded.

Rootless...

Does all of this have anything to do with you...?