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

After saying goodbye to Zhuge Gong and Zhuge Qing and agreeing to visit each other's homes the next day, Yan Que and Zhuge Ning took Yan Sen home.

Yan Que pushed open the slightly mottled wooden door of his small courtyard, as if he had opened an invisible barrier.

One second you're feeling the unique dampness and hustle of the Jiangnan water towns in the alley, and the next second, an indescribable "stillness" washes over you like flowing water.

This is not just auditory quiet, but a kind of soothing effect that seeps into the bone marrow from the pores.

Yan Sen felt that the heat and fatigue accumulated in his meridians from his journey were gently swept away by the Qi field in the courtyard, and most of it dissipated instantly.

This is no ordinary farmhouse courtyard.

Under Yan Sen's discerning eyes, which are capable of understanding the Qi of all things, this courtyard is simply a masterpiece of art.

Every plant, tree, brick, and tile in the courtyard, though seemingly placed randomly, actually conforms to the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches and the Five Elements' generating and restraining relationships.

The old locust tree was planted at the "Gate of Life" position, and the stone table under the tree was placed on the "Eye of the Formation". Even the few inconspicuous pots of scallions and garlic in the corner of the wall were just enough to block the gaps in the Qi formation that were leaking out.

The principles of Qi from his father's "Hanlong Jing" combined with his mother Zhuge Ning's "Wuhou Qimen".

Two completely different top-notch methods have achieved a bizarre yet perfect "self-consistency" in this small courtyard of less than 100 square meters.

Everything is in its proper place, and the flow of Qi is endless, as if the courtyard itself is a living organism.

As soon as Zhuge Ning entered the courtyard, she went straight to the kitchen to cook. Her son was home, and as a mother, she had to show off her skills no matter what. As for whether Yan Que could usually afford to eat, Zhuge Ning thought, "Ha, lazy fellow, go drink my foot bath water!"

In the courtyard, Yan Sen stood at the gate, unable to help but click his tongue in amazement, "Dad, is this what you and Mom came up with? That's something!"

Under the shade of a tree, a wicker deck chair sways gently in the breeze.

As soon as Yan Que entered the courtyard, he lay down sprawled out on the ground, his face covered by a tattered palm-leaf fan. Hearing his son's question, he didn't get up, but lazily pulled the fan down a little, revealing a pair of squinting eyes.

"Stop looking, you'll get a sty if you look too much." Yan Que yawned, his voice languid. "This courtyard was mostly your mother's doing. She used the Qimen Dunjia method to determine the orientation, and I just did some manual labor, like clearing the underground Qi channels. You know my talent is just so-so, and I'm lazy, so it's a complete waste of my time to do this project by myself."

He rolled over and pointed at Yan Sen: "But you're different. With your current progress and those eyes, you'll be able to handle 'situations' of this level with a flick of your wrist in the future."

Yan Sen walked over and, without any ceremony, plopped down on the stone stool, picked up the teapot on the table, and poured himself a cup.

"You've certainly painted a beautiful picture." Yan Sen took a sip of tea, finding it sweet and pleasant. He decided to take some with him when he left. "Hey Dad, you're not even forty yet, are you? You're in your prime. Look at those two from the Lü and Wang families among the Ten Elders, they're still so active at their age. Are you really planning to be a lazy bum, lying around in this courtyard for the rest of your life?"

"Salted fish?" Yan Que sat up as if he had heard a joke, twirling his palm-leaf fan rapidly in his hand. "What do you know, kid?"

He squinted and pointed to the land beneath his feet: "This is 'home'."

He then pointed in the direction from which the sound of stir-frying was coming from the kitchen: "That's the 'wife'."

Finally, that finger landed squarely on Yan Sen's forehead: "You are the 'top successor'."

Yan Que pursed his lips, lay back down, and let out a comfortable sigh: "A wife, kids, a warm bed—I've got all three of life's perfect joys. You spent a few years on Longhu Mountain, didn't you ever hear the Old Master's lectures? What is non-action? It's following your natural instincts and restraining selfish desires and attachments. That's what true freedom is! This isn't some 'salted fish,' it's a state of being, what do you know!"

Yan Sen's lips twitched. To be able to describe "laziness" in such a refined and elegant way, full of Taoist charm, is probably something only his old man could do.

"Alright! Stop trying to instill your fallacies and heresies into my son!"

The kitchen curtain was suddenly flung open, and Zhuge Ning, wearing an apron and holding a cleaver, her eyebrows furrowed, roared at Yan Que, "Get in here and serve the dishes! One more word and you'll be sleeping on a recliner tonight!"

When she turned to look at Yan Sen, the shrewish woman instantly transformed into a gentle one, smiling with a tender and loving smile: "Son, don't listen to your dad's nonsense. He's lazy and greedy. Come in, wash your hands, and eat. Mom made braised pork and sweet and sour spare ribs for you."

Yan Sen secretly gave his mother a thumbs up as he watched her smooth face-changing technique.

Why bother learning Wuhou Qimen? If you learned Sichuan opera face-changing, your mother would have already established her own school and become a grandmaster.

Yan Que trembled at the shout, quickly jumped up from the recliner, and gestured with his chin towards Yan Sen, as if to say: See? This is the family hierarchy. Hurry up, or we'll both get a beating if you dawdle any longer.

Yan Sen suppressed a laugh and pulled his father along, saying, "Let's go, Mr. Yan, let's go eat."

……

The dining table wasn't big; it was a square table, but it was packed full of food.

The braised pork belly was a bright red color, the sweet and sour spare ribs were tantalizingly sweet and sour, and there was also a steaming bowl of milky white crucian carp and tofu soup.

The main dishes were fried dough sticks and tofu buns that Yan Que had bought that morning. Although it was a mix of dishes, the aroma of home cooking was something Yan Sen had been longing to smell.

The family of three sat together, without any rules about not speaking while eating or sleeping.

While gnawing on ribs, Yan Que boasted to Zhuge Ning about his "glorious years" when he was wandering with Yan Sen, omitting, of course, the details of his son faking an accident and stealing chicken legs.

Zhuge Ning kept putting food into Yan Sen's bowl, her eyes full of love and guilt.

Before Yan Sen came back, I didn't think much of it. Although my son wasn't by my side, I knew he was safe, so I didn't have anything to worry about.

Now, watching her son sitting across from her, wolfing down his food and occasionally exchanging a few words with Yan Que, Zhuge Ning felt her heart was filled with joy.

This is what a complete family is.

After a hearty meal, Yan Sen let out a burp, patted his round belly, put his chopsticks and bowl on the table, and spread his hands like a debt collector. "Father, you've already 'gone into inaction,' so there are probably things you don't need anymore. Can you give your son something nice?"

Yan Que glanced at him sideways, picking his teeth, "What? Tired of the hard times? Want some money?"

"It's not about the money..."

"If you want money, that's easy," Yan Que interrupted him, casually pointing, "Our family also has two courtyard houses within the Second Ring Road of Yanjing, which have been empty and used to raise mice. If you like, we can transfer them to you later. We also have a horse farm and two docks near Tianjin Port. The annual dividends are deposited in that card, and the password is your birthday. If that's still not enough, go to the second drawer of that chest of drawers in my room and rummage through it. There are some gold bars and antiques in there; take what you like."

"Mom has some too," Zhuge Ning added from the side, her tone as calm as if she were talking about what to eat for dinner. "Although it's not as much as the Yan family's wealth, I've saved some over the years. If you need it, Mom will transfer you a few million for spending money."

Yan Sen: "..."

He opened his mouth wide, his chin almost falling into the soup bowl.

Although I had long guessed that my family wasn't short of money—after all, being able to form a marriage alliance with the Zhuge family meant the Yan family's foundation was definitely not weak—I never expected them to be this rich!

A courtyard house? A dock? Gold bars?

Yan Sen couldn't tell whether his father's actions of scavenging for scraps at the train station and fighting with stray dogs for food were meant to toughen him up or to satisfy his perverse tastes.

Yan Sen took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the urge to immediately lie down and become a spendthrift.

"Ahem... Don't worry about money for now. I don't spend any money on food and lodging on the mountain, so I don't need it for the time being." Yan Sen waved his hand, his expression becoming more serious. "I want to ask Father for a magical artifact for protection."

Although he resolved the Medicine Immortal Gathering during this trip down the mountain, Yan Sen also realized his shortcomings.

Currently, his cultivation of life force is barely sufficient.

The power of the "Shaking Dragon Scripture" is domineering, and the Golden Light Mantra is also strong in defense. But what if you encounter a cunning old man who doesn't know martial ethics and secretly plots against you, and you don't even have time to activate the Golden Light to protect yourself? Putting aside those who practice external martial arts, the physical body of an ordinary superhuman is still very fragile.

In the world of martial arts, caution is paramount. An extra layer of protection can mean an extra life.

"A magical artifact?" Upon hearing this, Yan Que spread his hands, quite the smooth talker. "Then you've come to the wrong person. Why are you coming to me instead of our family's renowned successor, the Divine Strategist of the Marquis of Wu? Your father has always believed that 'running fast is the best defense.' Your mother did give me a protective jade pendant before, but I broke it in a fight with those bastards from Quanxing."

At this point, Yan Que clicked his tongue with a look of regret.

Zhuge Ning rolled her eyes at him, put down her chopsticks, got up and went into the inner room.

A short while later, she came out carrying a delicate little brocade box.

"We prepared this for you the year you were born, intending to give it to you once you obtained Qi, but we never had the chance."

Zhuge Ning opened the box, inside which lay a necklace. The chain was woven from countless extremely fine silver threads, flowing like ripples in water. The pendant was a silver compass no bigger than a thumb, exquisitely crafted, with the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches markings on it so fine that they could only be seen with a magnifying glass.

"This is the work of Zhuge Liang." Zhuge Ning put the necklace on Yan Sen, her eyes gentle. "This protective artifact is called 'Xinwei,' taken from the Heavenly Stem and Earthly Branch of the year you were born. This little thing looks inconspicuous, but it will automatically activate when attacked. It can block pistol bullets without any problem, and it can withstand several rifle bullets as well. It is enough to defend against most dark blue bullets like the jinbiao."

Yan Sen touched the cool little compass on his chest, feeling a warm glow in his heart.

"Mom..." Yan Sen's eyes were a little red.

"Alright, alright, you're such a grown man, why are you still crying?" Zhuge Ning rubbed his head. "As long as you're safe and sound, Mom is at ease."

……

After finishing their meal and clearing the table, Yan Que took Zhuge Ning to the tree in the courtyard to drink tea and aid digestion, enjoying some alone time together.

Yan Sen returned alone to the room prepared for him.

The room was large and clean, with the sheets and blankets smelling of sunshine. It was clear that Zhuge Ning cleaned the room regularly, even though she didn't know when he would return.

On the desk were several comic books he had read as a child, as well as some small wooden toys.

Yan Sen threw the canvas bag onto the bed, opened the desk drawer, and tried to put the ruler inside.

When the drawer was opened, there was a photo album inside.

He took it out and looked through it out of curiosity.

Most of the photos were of him as a child: rolling around in the mud wearing open-crotch pants, peeing while riding on Yan Que's neck, and giggling in Zhuge Ning's arms... Looking at these photos, Yan Sen couldn't help but smile.

It turns out that, beyond his own vague memories, his parents had been recording his growth all along.

Flipping to the middle of the album, a black and white photo that was clearly quite old fell out.

The edges of the photo have yellowed, and there are even creases in some places.

Yan Sen picked up the photo, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The background of the photo is a desolate mountain wilderness that looks somewhat familiar. There are four people in the photo.

In the very center, an old man in a long robe, with a thin face but sharp eyes, sits imposingly on a rock, holding a long pipe in his hand. His domineering aura, even across decades, still shines through the paper.

To the right of the old man stood a boy who looked only fifteen or sixteen years old. His features were seven parts similar to Yan Que's, but he appeared more immature and reserved.

To the left of the old man stood a young man wearing a white shirt and with a buzz cut.

The young man appeared unrestrained and carefree, with a cynical smile on his lips, and he was holding a beautifully sculpted baby girl who looked to be just over a month old.

Yan Sen looked at the photo and his heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason.

This feeling was indescribable, but Yan Sen was certain, deep down, that it was very important to him.

He took the photo and walked quickly into the yard.

"Father, who is this person in the photo?" Yan Sen handed the photo to Yan Que, who was drinking tea.

Yan Que took the photo, glanced at it, and his expression instantly became somewhat complicated. He stroked the old man sitting in the middle of the photo, his tone unusually filled with a hint of reverence.

"The one sitting here is your great-grandfather, Yan Hong."

Yan Que pointed to the young man and said, "The one standing here is your grandfather, Yan Qi. He was still young then, just starting out in the world with your great-grandfather."

"And what about this young man holding the child?" Yan Sen pointed to the smiling man on the left. "He doesn't look like a member of our family."

Yan Que remained silent for a moment, as if recalling something.

"This person... I've never seen him before either." Yan Que shook his head. "Your grandfather didn't tell me much about him back then, he just mentioned him briefly."

He said this person was a freak, but also a wonderful person.

Yan Que pointed at the young man and slowly said, "His surname is Feng, and his given name is Yao. However, he has an even more resounding name in the martial arts world."

Yan Sen's heart skipped a beat.

He called himself "Rootless".

boom!

It was as if a thunderbolt had exploded in Yan Sen's mind.

Holy crap!!! Wugensheng!