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

"Ha ha……"

Deep within the primeval forests of Changbai Mountain, the heavy breathing sounds like a broken bellows being pulled.

A disheveled figure frantically weaved through towering ancient trees and thorny vines.

That family heirloom sword, which was usually regarded as a warrior's honor and polished with clove oil three times a day, was now used as a wood-chopping knife to clear the way, constantly hacking at the bushes blocking the path.

Ryuichiro felt a burning pain in his lungs, as if they were about to explode, and his legs felt as heavy as lead. But he dared not stop, nor even turn around.

The thunder that had been coming from the direction of Tianchi behind him had stopped, replaced by a deathly silence that made his heart tremble.

Just now, he glanced back at the golden light that pierced the sky and seemed to reach the heavens and the earth, which made him fully understand what it meant for the tide to turn.

Lost.

We lost completely.

He must not waste the chance to survive that Lord Minamoto no Yoshitsune had given him by sacrificing himself.

"How can this be repaired!"

Ryuichiro stumbled and crashed hard into a red pine tree. Using the momentum, he spun around and cleaved the tree trunk with his sword, venting his humiliation and resentment. Wood chips flew everywhere as the blade pierced deep into the wood.

"I'm so... negligent."

Ryuichiro slid slowly down the tree trunk, his vision beginning to blur.

As the heir of the Jigenryu-ryu-ryu-yanagi family and the most loyal retainer of the Genji, he actually left his lord to face that group of powerful enemies alone, while he himself fled like a stray dog.

This shame can only be washed away with blood.

"After I return to Japan and pass on the Lord's last wishes and the information here... I will commit seppuku."

Ryuichiro's fingers dug so hard into the soil that his nails cracked.

He did not intend to find a second man; a coward like him, who had abandoned his lord, did not deserve even the slightest bit of a pleasant death.

He wanted to feel every bit of pain as the sharp blade cut through his abdomen and his intestines flowed out, as a way of apologizing to Lord Genji.

Ryuichiro's consciousness grew heavier and heavier, as if a black curtain was slowly falling.

Images of the first half of his life began to flash before his eyes like a revolving lantern.

It was a cherry blossom-filled afternoon when he and his younger brother, Ryujiro, knelt before Lord Minamoto no Yoshitsune, swearing their loyalty. At that time, the lord, full of youthful vigor, promised to lead them to a new world where supernatural beings and ordinary people coexist...

"Why can't I see clearly... am I sleepy...?"

He muttered to himself, his eyelids feeling as heavy as a thousand pounds.

Take a nap, just for a few minutes.

Ryuichiro thought to himself.

At that moment, he still thought it was a coma caused by exhaustion, a brief rest during his escape.

……

The wind howled through the woods, like the wailing of ghosts.

About fifteen minutes later.

Ryuichiro, who had been lying on the ground like a corpse, suddenly twitched his fingers in an extremely unnatural way.

Immediately following was a sickeningly loud cracking sound of bones popping.

His body was twisted in a bizarre posture, as if the bones inside his body were being broken and reassembled.

That once resolute and wooden face was now undergoing subtle shifts in its features; muscles twitched, and lines became softer yet sinister.

"ah......"

A low, hoarse sigh, yet carrying an air of superiority, escaped from the body's throat.

"Ryuichiro" slowly opened his eyes.

Those eyes no longer held any trace of the warrior's blind loyalty and perseverance; instead, they held unfathomable resentment and arrogance.

He leaned against the tree trunk, stiffly stood up, and looked down at the rough body covered in sweat and dirt.

"It's so dirty..."

Ryuichiro—or rather, the Yoshitsune Minamoto who was currently occupying his body—disdainfully patted the dust off his clothes.

He raised his hand, looking at those rough, calloused hands, only suitable for holding a knife, and the muscles at the corners of his eyes twitched wildly.

"Bang!"

He slammed his fist into the tree trunk beside him, the bark cracked, and blood flowed through his fingers, but he seemed to feel no pain.

"Damn it! Damn it! That wretched brat!!!"

Minamoto no Yoshitsune let out a roar like a wounded beast, and he knelt down, his forehead hitting the ground hard, creating a deep crater in the humus.

"They actually forced me to use the 'Reincarnation Technique'! They actually forced me to abandon that perfect Onmyoji body and be forced to live a wretched, lowly life in this samurai's body! Aaaaaah!"

Even before this plan was made, the naturally suspicious Minamoto no Yoshitsune had already prepared a backup plan.

The so-called "swearing an oath with gold" and the so-called "contract of loyalty" in the cave were nothing more than a blood curse he cast.

For him, the Long brothers were both a sharp knife and a spare "container".

Once his physical body suffers an irreversible destructive blow, he can use a blood curse to forcibly transfer his soul into this useful body.

But for him, this was a great humiliation.

How could the noble soul of an Onmyoji be compared to that of a brute who only knows how to wield a sword? The meridians in this body are blocked and rough, and cannot support his exquisite Onmyoji techniques at all. His strength is reduced to less than one-tenth!

"Damn brat... and that wretched 'jackal'!"

Minamoto no Yoshitsune raised his head, his face covered in mud, his eyes flashing with a tangible red light.

"I've remembered this debt. Even if I have a different body, even if I have to start all over again... as long as I can return to Japan alive, one day I will lead a Hundred Demons Parade and flatten Changbai Mountain! I will extract your souls, seal them into shikigami, torment them day and night, and prevent them from ever entering the underworld!"

After venting his anger, Minamoto no Yoshitsune took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

The most urgent task now is to escape.

Although the body was a bit dirty, fortunately, Ryuichiro, that fool, only knew how to strengthen his body and had plenty of physical strength. As long as he escaped from these deep mountains and blended into the city, with his abilities, hiding would be a piece of cake.

Minamoto no Yoshitsune stood up, checked the direction, and prepared to continue moving towards the border.

However, he had only taken two steps when he suddenly stopped.

Something's not right...

Minamoto no Yoshitsune squinted and looked around.

The light in the woods seemed excessively dim.

Although it was already afternoon and the sun was setting, the dappled sunlight filtering through the gaps in the tree canopy should still be golden.

But now, the surrounding air seemed to be shrouded in a thin yellow mist, and the originally emerald green leaves appeared sickly yellow in the mist.

What's even more frightening is that it's too quiet.

The birdsong and insect chirps that could be heard just moments before have all vanished. The entire world seems to consist only of the rustling sound of his feet crunching on fallen leaves.

A chilling sensation, as if being targeted by a apex predator, shot up the warrior's spine and straight to the top of his head.

Minamoto no Yoshitsune instinctively gripped the katana at his waist, a lingering muscle memory from his body.

"rustle......"

Suddenly, a series of unhurried footsteps came from the bushes not far ahead.

Minamoto no Yoshitsune was tense, staring intently in that direction.

A withered hand slowly parted the bushes that were as tall as a person, and an old man wearing a dark blue old Zhongshan suit and a tattered felt hat walked out slowly with his hands behind his back.

The old man was short and somewhat hunchbacked. His face was covered with deep wrinkles, his eyes were squinted, and his pupils were almost invisible. A half-smile played at the corners of his mouth.

He looked like any ginseng harvester or forest ranger you'd see anywhere at the foot of this mountain.

"Oh my, there's someone here!"

The old man stopped, tilted his head, and looked Minamoto no Yoshitsune up and down. Speaking in a thick Northeastern accent, his tone was warm and enthusiastic:

"Young man, are you a tourist? What are you doing in this old forest? Did you get separated from your friends and get lost?"

Minamoto no Yoshitsune paused for a moment.

He was fluent in Chinese, so he naturally understood what the old man was saying.

Could it be... just an ordinary person? Or am I being overly sensitive, like a frightened bird?

Minamoto no Yoshitsune's mind raced. If he was just an ordinary forest ranger, that would be perfect. He could use him to guide the way, or even... kill him, change clothes, and more easily conceal his identity.

Thinking of this, Minamoto no Yoshitsune's tense muscles relaxed, and a look of fear and helplessness instantly appeared on his face, even his voice sounding somewhat like a sob:

"Yes...yes, grandpa! I came here as a tourist to see Tianchi Lake, but I got separated from my tour guide while trying to take a shortcut. I've been wandering around in this forest for ages, I'm tired and hungry, and my phone has no signal..."

As Minamoto no Yoshitsune spoke, he observed the old man's reaction, but his hand never strayed too far from the hilt of his sword.

"Oh dear, that was an accident."

The old man, hands behind his back, smacked his lips, looking on with pity: "The old forests of Changbai Mountain are truly treacherous. Without a local guide, you can't get out. Especially now that it's getting dark, if you run into a big black bear or a wild boar, your small frame won't even be enough to fill its teeth."

The old man turned around and waved to Minamoto no Yoshitsune:

"Alright, you're lucky to have run into me. Come with me, I'll take you out of here."

Minamoto no Yoshitsune was overjoyed and was about to take a step to follow, but suddenly, his steps froze in mid-air.

and many more!

you?

Minamoto no Yoshitsune felt a chill run from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

He suddenly turned around to look.

Behind me was nothing but emptiness, with only a few crooked trees and waist-high weeds, not a soul in sight.

Who is this old man talking to?

I am an Onmyoji! How could there be anything he cannot see!

"Grandpa...Grandpa..." Minamoto no Yoshitsune swallowed, his voice trembling slightly, "You...you just said...you'd take us?"

The old man walking in front paused.

He slowly turned around, the movement so slow it was unsettling.

The old man did not answer Minamoto no Yoshitsune's question, but instead took off his tattered felt hat and gently patted off the dust.

As the hat was removed, Minamoto no Yoshitsune's pupils dilated sharply.

The old man had a sparse tuft of yellow hair on his head, which stood out conspicuously in the dim light.

"Young man..."

The old man finally raised his head.

His eyes, which had been squinting, suddenly snapped open.

Those are not human eyes at all!

Those were beastly eyes, glowing with a ghostly green light and with vertical pupils!

The old man's mouth stretched into a wide grin that reached his ears, revealing a set of fine, sharp, and white fangs. The wrinkles on his face were tightly knitted together, exuding an indescribable eeriness and greed.

"Since we've run into each other, it must be fate. I'm taking you out as an old man out of kindness."

The old man—or rather, something in human skin—took a step forward, and a chilling, beastly aura emanated from him.

"To repay this kindness, will you answer one of my questions?"

Minamoto no Yoshitsune was stiff all over. Even when facing Kotomori, he had never felt this chilling. This was a biological instinctual fear of the unknown.

He tried to draw his sword, but found that his hand was being held down by something and he couldn't move it at all.

"you see me......"

The old man stared intently at Minamoto no Yoshitsune, his voice becoming shrill and grating, as if scratching a blackboard with fingernails:

"Like a human... or like a god?"