Chapter Seven: The Old Thief of Taiping Street on the Lantern Festival

I stared blankly at my Great-Uncle. "The Thirteen Ghost Gates is such a massive force, why would they have it out for our Yuan family?"

My Great-Uncle shook his head. "Why the Thirteen Ghost Gates would target the Yuan family is a mystery that even your grandfather and I cannot fathom. Logically speaking, there is no grudge, nor even any intersection, between our family and them. They shouldn't have struck with such cruelty. Furthermore, with the power they command, they wouldn't need to go through so much trouble to wipe us out. They could have obliterated the Yuan family and erased every trace of our existence entirely. Why bother with such a convoluted approach?"

"As for the answer to that..." My Great-Uncle pondered for a moment before saying earnestly, "Yuan Zheng, your grandfather always hoped you could live a peaceful life—grow up like an ordinary person, start a family, and build a career. If you choose to forget the hatred of the Yuan family, refuse to learn the secret arts, and stay out of the underworld, you could live a stable life. Otherwise, what awaits you is a life of blood and carnage. What will you do?"

I looked him straight in the eye. "My parents, my grandfather—I must avenge them. No matter how powerful the Thirteen Ghost Gates are, they are still human. I don't believe they cannot be killed."

He shook his head. "Do not be so hasty to answer. I will give you a month to consider. During this month, follow me, watch what I do. After a month, if you still want to enter the underworld, I will initiate you. Eat your meal, get some rest, and think it over carefully."

The moment I opened my eyes the next day, I stuck to his side like a shadow, nagging him for an initiation every chance I got. He would only smile and tell me to wait a little longer. After half a month of following him, my heart had grown cold. My Great-Uncle was nothing but a con artist!

The Taiping Street where he lived was, in fact, a "Feng Shui Street." There was a saying on the street: "The King occupies the head, the Ghost guards the tail." It meant that the person occupying the first house on the street was a master of great renown, while the one at the very end was a charlatan with no real talent who relied solely on his silver tongue.

My Great-Uncle occupied the first house. Everyone who saw him had to respectfully call him "Third Master." He went by the name "Yuan the Ten-Thousand," and he had a sign hanging at his door that read: "Groundbreaking, Roof-raising, or Door-opening. One service only, thirty thousand per出手." Even with such an absurd rule, people on the street still praised him for his benevolence, claiming he was leaving a living for others.

Others might not have known what was up with him, but I saw it clearly: he had no real skill whatsoever; he only knew how to bluff and swindle! He was even more devious when it came to fooling people than the charlatan at the end of the street.

He always maintained a dignified air in front of others, but he never bothered to hide his true self from me. I once asked him, "You can't even read a compass, so how can you practice Feng Shui?" He replied, "If I can't read a compass, I just won't use one. Simple as that." Was that even human logic?

One time, I watched him perform a groundbreaking ceremony and nearly died of fright. The auspicious time for the project had already passed, but he was still asleep. By the time he sauntered over, it was high noon and the sun was scorching. The CEO and the foreman were sweating oil in the heat, and the workers were glaring at him with such fury they looked ready to pounce. My Great-Uncle strolled up to the edge of the site, kicked a fist-sized stone over a meter away, and declared, "Start the digging!"

I was so angry I nearly choked. You want to swindle people? At least put in some effort! A single kick to a stone, and that was it? You couldn't even fool a fool with that! Were your old arms and legs ready to take a beating?

Just as I was thinking about how to drag him away and escape, he perked up, walked over to the CEO with his hands behind his back, and said, "Add another thirty thousand. Send it to my house tomorrow at noon, and have that man with the handlebar mustache behind you deliver it personally. Otherwise, don't blame me for not giving you face."

He turned and left immediately. The CEO and the man with the mustache were so terrified they trotted after him, bowing and scraping: "Certainly, certainly! Thank you, Third Master. It was my ignorance that offended you." He didn't even acknowledge them and walked away.

The next day, those two actually brought heavy gifts to apologize. Only when the man with the mustache introduced himself did I realize he was a famous Feng Shui master from a neighboring province. Several people from the street came to intercede on his behalf, and only after they begged for a long time did my Great-Uncle relent, making the man kowtow three times before letting him go. He didn't take a single one of the heavy gifts, only the thirty thousand yuan.

I asked him, "You're clearly just bluffing—why does everyone believe you?" He told me, "The highest form of deception is letting the target deceive themselves. There is great depth in that."

His cons never failed, but my heart grew increasingly unsettled. What could a man like this teach me? How to swindle people? I had never seen anyone so "cunning." I gave him the nickname "Yuan the Old Rogue," and when no one was around, I called him that without restraint. To my surprise, he didn't seem to mind. Had it been my grandfather, he would have torn my mouth off.

The month passed quickly. He called me over. "This month, I had you follow me so you could see the treachery of the underworld. What you have seen these days doesn't even scratch the surface. Entering the underworld means rolling in blood and surviving on lies. If you can accept this, I will initiate you. If not, I can change your identity and secure your future."

I didn't hesitate. "I accept. Initiate me. Besides, if I don't enter the underworld and learn the secret arts, how long can I live? Should I wait until I'm thirty-six and hope someone comes to save me?"

He remained seated. "I must ask you one more question. Answer correctly, and I will initiate you. Do you know why I always let you watch me practice my tricks?"

I looked up at him. "You don't want me to be deceived!"

"Correct! Your father and grandfather were powerful, but they lacked a certain cunning. I do not want you to repeat their mistakes." He stood up slowly. "Follow me."

He led me into the back room and had me kneel before a shrine covered in red silk. He lit three sticks of incense, closed his eyes, and muttered, "Ancestors above, your unworthy descendant Yuan Kaishan, along with my grandson Yuan Zheng, pays respects to the founders..."

As he prayed, I felt something was wrong. Having spent so much time with him, I had picked up some of his rogue nature and learned to think critically. I had been here for a month and had never once seen that shrine uncovered. He even brought clients to pray to it—did the "Founders" handle every little thing? Besides, why cover a shrine with a red cloth to prevent outsiders from seeing it, yet keep it covered even when praying to one's own ancestors?

No, I had to see for myself.