Chapter 4: The Curse Unleashed

Dawn never truly came.

Gray light seeped weakly through the clouds, painting the world in corpse-pale hues. Word of what happened on Panlong Ridge spread through the city like wildfire—twisted and whispered, retold in growing horror. Some claimed they saw green flames burst from the coffin. Others said they heard the sound of chains dragging through the wind.

But one thing was certain:
The Li family was dead.

All of them.

That very night.

Li Wancai was found sprawled on his ornate bed, his eyes bulging, mouth frozen in a scream of unspeakable terror.
Thick black bruises coiled around his neck and arms—marks like those left by a constricting serpent.

His wives, his concubines, his adult children—
All dead.
Even the bodyguards, servants, and coachmen who had followed him to Panlong Ridge.

Not a soul remained breathing in the great Li residence.

And the old yellow guard dog at the gate?
It too was found lifeless, blood trickling from nose and mouth.

Officials sealed off the estate in haste.
The coroner’s report was blank with fear: “Sudden illness. Aggressive qi. Unknown.”

But the city was already filled with murmurs:

“They buried the father on cursed ground.”
“They defied heaven and desecrated the yin world.”
“The compass shattered—didn’t you hear?”
“It was retribution.”

While the Li family fell into cold, rotting silence, another name surfaced—like a ghost returned from the grave.

Chen Songnian.

The mad geomancer.

Someone claimed they saw him wandering the filthiest slum on the west end of the city—barefoot, ragged, drenched in sewer water and mud. He held a bundle in his arms, wrapped in torn linen.

Jade glinted from the folds.

Fragments of his shattered compass.

His hair was wild, matted with twigs and dried blood. His eyes—once clear and focused—were now glassy and unseeing. He muttered constantly, to no one, to the sky, to ghosts only he could hear:

“Blessed ground… for the blessed… cursed ground… calls the cursed…”

“福地待福人……凶地招恶煞……”

The phrase spilled from his lips again and again, broken, hoarse, dry as wind through dead leaves.

Children screamed and ran. Adults crossed the street to avoid him. No one dared approach.

He walked like a shadow given flesh, a man hollowed out by horror. His soul remained trapped on Panlong Ridge, staring eternally into that sliver of blackness… into the eye that never blinked.