‘Zhuge Buyi?’
The name format was familiar, and the name itself was also familiar.
Only then did Fu Sang take a serious look at him again.
Unlike his brother Zhuge Buhuo, Zhuge Buyi seemed like a quiet, handsome young man, with a gentle, scholarly air. His hair was neither long nor short, and he wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. He was simply dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans, clean and without any aggressive aura.
“Hello, Fu Sang.”
Fu Sang introduced himself briefly.
“Hey… you two know each other? Are you from the same school? Sangzi, you’re actually a senior?”
Da Shuangxi also found it a coincidence and asked curiously.
“Yes, we’re from the same family. Master Fu Sang’s master is my master’s junior martial uncle.” Zhuge Buyi explained.
“Oh oh…” Da Shuangxi was getting dizzy from all the “masters” and “martial uncles” and nodded blankly. Anyway, she understood that Fu Sang was one generation above this handsome young man.
Since they were all family and knew each other, Da Shuangxi had Fu Sang and Zhuge Buyi sit together.
While listening to the chatter from the people nearby, Fu Sang learned that Zhuge Buyi was studying in Shanghai, currently in his senior year of college. Da Shuangxi’s cousin Lin Jian was Zhuge Buyi’s classmate. The two were close, and Lin Jian knew Zhuge Buyi came from a family of metaphysics masters. Since his family was recently looking for a trustworthy Feng Shui master, he brought Zhuge Buyi along.
“…For businessmen like us, to develop in any area, besides business acumen, Feng Shui is the most important thing. Especially for properties and plots of land. Before development, you must secure good Feng Shui, so business can go smoothly. Don’t you all agree?”
Da Shuangxi’s grandfather was a lean, small old man. He wore a light-colored Tang suit and leaned on a solid wood cane, sitting at the head of the dining table. From the moment the banquet started, he launched into his long-winded speech.
“The old man loves to lecture, and he’s been even more talkative since he got sick. Just bear with it.” Da Shuangxi whispered to Fu Sang.
“Hmm? Hmm.”
Actually, the reminder didn’t matter much because Fu Sang wasn’t listening at all.
All his attention was focused on the French blue lobster on the table.
“Our family business has reached where it is today not only due to our own efforts but also thanks to your Uncle Dalong! I personally would love to continue cooperating with Dalong, but fate is a tricky thing. He said it’s inconvenient, and we can’t force him, right? But there is loss with gain. When one fate ends, a new one begins. I really like these two young brothers Ah Xi and Ajian introduced. Just looking at their faces makes me feel close to them. And they look so young. Heroes have always emerged from among the young, and youth means infinite possibilities…”
The old man didn’t seem ill at all; he spoke energetically and eloquently.
Fu Sang let it go in one ear and out the other, his mind full of “this bite costs five hundred,” “that bite costs two thousand,” determined to eat his fill and not waste the trip.
It wasn’t until someone next to him nudged him as a reminder that he looked up at the old man at the head of the table, who was smiling at him.
“He’s asking where you work.” Da Shuangxi lowered her voice.
“Oh… I’m still a student.” Fu Sang replied.
“Which school?” The old man continued asking.
“Jingda University.”
“Oh, a good school. What year are you in?”
“Second year of my master’s.”
“What are you studying?”
“History.”
“Wonderful…” The old man nodded: “A top student!”
“It’s average.” Fu Sang habitually replied in that indifferent tone.
There seemed to be a moment of silence at the table. Someone choked on their red wine and couldn’t help coughing. The atmosphere turned a bit subtle, but Fu Sang himself didn’t notice, and the old man didn’t mind either. Instead, he smiled and said:
“I just heard that you and the kid Ah Jian brought are from the same family? Does your whole family do this kind of work?”
“We’re not from the same family. I’m out on my own. Their family really is a bunch of charlatans.”
“Oh… it must be a big family, right? But I haven’t really looked into it. Is it because your family keeps a low profile and doesn’t come out much, or…?”
For some reason, the old man, probably because he was in high spirits, kept pestering Fu Sang with questions.
“The feng shui industry got muddied up early on, with all kinds of fish and dragons mixed together. Even now, only half-baked practitioners and con artists can make money. His family is too proud to bother with such things.”
Fu Sang felt he was telling the truth, but everyone else at the table seemed to react a bit strangely.
He didn’t pay much attention anyway. The old man looked to be in a good mood, chuckling “hehehe” before continuing on his own:
“Many years ago, Dalong also told me that this industry is deep waters, full of con artists and half-baked practitioners. There are very few with real skill. But then again, only someone with real skill could say that so openly. You’re an odd-tempered brat, but you suit my taste!”
Apart from the old man’s lecturing, the topic of this dinner revolved around the Da Shuangxi family chatting about their business. Fu Sang didn’t understand and couldn’t be bothered to listen. After dealing with the old man, he focused on devouring the expensive dishes on the table according to Da Shuangxi’s quote. Once the family banquet finally ended, he followed Da Shuangxi and let her arrange his accommodations.
The hotel Da Shuangxi booked for him was just downstairs, a large suite with an L-shaped floor-to-ceiling window offering a direct view of Shanghai’s nightscape.
Fu Sang took a shower and lay in a massage recliner, staring out at the window, his mind drifting as he idly speculated and calculated whether his current savings could buy even a single floor tile here.
Someone knocked at the door. Fu Sang got up to check, expecting it to be the room service Da Shuangxi mentioned for late-night snacks and drinks, but when he pulled the door open, Zhuge Buyi was standing behind it.
“Little Martial Uncle.”
Before Fu Sang could even speak, Zhuge Buyi quickly greeted him as soon as he raised an eyebrow.
Fu Sang glanced at him and said, “You have better manners than your brother.”
With that, he stepped aside and graciously let Zhuge Buyi in for a visit.
“Martial Uncle knows my brother?” Zhuge Buyi cautiously shuffled in.
“Mm.” Fu Sang replied casually.
“It’s late. There’s no time for pleasantries and buildup. Say what you need to say.”
“Oh, well…” Zhuge Buyi, perhaps a little embarrassed by Fu Sang’s bluntness, turned red in the ears, lowered his head and pushed up his glasses:
“I wanted to ask, why did you take on the Guan family’s job, Martial Uncle?”
“?” Fu Sang found the question strange.
“Because it covers the flight and hotel, plus a big payout of ten thousand.”
As he spoke, seeing Zhuge Buyi looking a bit dazed, Fu Sang raised an eyebrow.
“What, did your little friend not offer you that price?”
“No, no…” Zhuge Buyi quickly shook his head, “I didn’t charge anything…”
“Wow.” Fu Sang said flatly, giving him a thumbs-up.
“Treating money like dirt…what a noble character. I thought your family had finally taken off Kong Yiji’s long gown, but it turns out it’s still just me judging a gentleman’s heart with my petty standards.”
**Kong Yiji is a poor, elderly scholar from Lu Xun’s 1922 short story. He has no degree, lives in poverty, steals to survive, but still wears his tattered scholar’s gown and quotes classic texts to prove he’s better than common folk. “Kong Yiji” is now used as a cultural reference for someone who clings to pride, status, or scholarly pretensions despite living in poverty, or someone overly obsessed with formalities and impractical knowledge.
“No…”
Zhuge Buyi had heard of his martial uncle’s reputation and had witnessed his brother’s furious rants about him. He knew that his uncle was famously ill-tempered and eccentric, but even after having made thorough preparations for the visit, he still underestimated how hard it was to deal with this person.
Blindsided by a few retorts, his mind went blank. At that moment, only one thought remained; the seniors were not lying.
“So, do you need something? If not, I’m going to sleep.” Fu Sang leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.
“Uh…” Zhuge Buyi didn’t know how to begin.
Originally, he had prepared a whole speech in his head, but now it was all in disarray. He was trying to reorganize his thoughts when Fu Sang issued his eviction notice before he could even start.
He hadn’t even made it past the entrance. Hearing Fu Sang show him out, he turned back around and slowly shuffled out into the hallway.
Fu Sang thought this kid was a bit odd. He came over and didn’t say anything, as if he just wanted to breathe the air in his room.
…Or maybe Zhuge Buyi had sensed something, like the scent and traces of Qi Changying on him?
The thought flashed through his mind for a moment before he tossed it into the trash.
That kid didn’t have that kind of skill. Showing up tonight for a moment…either he was idle or just bored.
He was too lazy to dig deeper.
Just as he was about to close the door, Zhuge Buyi seemed to have made up his mind. At the last second before the door shut, he reached out to hold it, locking eyes with Fu Sang, and spoke rapidly:
“I know the Zhuge family forbids disciples, especially direct-line disciples, from doing this kind of work. The reason I agreed to help Lin Jian with this is because I noticed he seems to be carrying a murky aura suspected to be a curse. This curse isn’t just targeting him alone, I suspect it covers the bloodline of their entire family. I want to investigate this matter, but I don’t have full confidence on my own. So, I’d like to ask for Martial Uncle’s help.”
“Oh…” Fu Sang drew out the syllable in mock realization, then changed the subject:
“I thought it was basic courtesy to offer something in return when asking for help.”
“Ah? Well…” Zhuge Buyi grew embarrassed again.
“I’m still studying, I don’t have much savings, and I can’t easily touch the family’s money…”
“Then what are you bargaining with me for?”
“But this curse affects so many people…”
“None of my business.”
He coldly threw out four words, and with a “bang,” Zhuge Buyi was shut out completely.
A job with no pay.
Only an idiot would take it.
Fu Sang yawned and stopped paying attention to the kid outside the door.
Although he told Zhuge Buyi he was going to sleep, Fu Sang actually just lay in bed playing on his phone. He was used to staying up late, sleeping at three or four in the morning was normal, and going to bed too early meant he couldn’t fall asleep anyway.
The hotel bed was two meters wide, with a warm yellow nightlight on the nightstand. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, Shanghai’s dazzling sea of lights mingled with moonlight, dividing the room into two tones, warm yellow and pale blue.
Qi Changying had been lying on the bench at the foot of the bed. After a while, he quietly got up and walked over to sit by the floor-to-ceiling window.
Fu Sang’s gaze soon shifted from the phone screen to his back.
After watching for a while, he spoke:
“What are you looking at?”
“I’ve never been to such a high place.”
Qi Changying didn’t turn around, almost pressing himself against the glass.
“This is more than what you can see from the highest mountain outside the capital of Dali. And it’s more beautiful.”
“There’s a lot you haven’t seen.”
“Yes,” Qi Changying seemed somewhat sentimental, “For humans, eighty is already a long life, but even a life that long is far from enough to see… what the world looks like a thousand years later.”
“And yours was especially short.” Fu Sang jabbed mercilessly.
“Yes.”
Qi Changying replied gently, then chuckled softly:
“So, thank you, Fu Sang, for showing me all this.”
“…”
There was nothing he could say to that.
Fu Sang tossed down his phone, ran his hand through his hair, and turned over:
“I’m going to sleep.”
“Alright.”
Qi Changying left the glass and walked back to him, sitting by the bedside as he always did. “I’ll be quiet.”
Fu Sang was silent for a moment.
Hearing no sound from the bedside, he finally spoke coldly, “You can go back to the window and keep looking, but if you make any noise and wake me up, I’ll hang you upside down from the ceiling light.”
“Alright, but I’d rather stay by your side. Your scent puts me at ease.”
“…Do whatever you want.”
As it turned out, someone accustomed to staying up late can’t fall asleep just by closing their eyes early.
Fu Sang tossed and turned in bed for a while, his mind buzzing with all sorts of scattered thoughts, clear and restless, unable to settle down and focus on sleep.
After a while, something crossed his mind. He opened his eyes, grabbed his phone, squinted, and tapped on Huo Wei’s chat window.
Wood: [Someone’s little brother is doing feng shui gigs on the side behind his back. Have Zhuge Buhuo guess who.]
Huo Wei had gone to Yongfu for a trip a few days ago and ran into Zhuge Buhuo there.
She learned that Zhuge Buhuo had taken a posting from the Mountain Residence and, out of curiosity, insisted on tagging along to see what kind of mission could stir the legendary Shaosi from the Mountain Residence into action.
But it seemed Fu Sang’s dear nephew wasn’t much of a travel or mission companion, because over the past few days, Fu Sang received complaints from Huo Wei every hour on average. Either his nephew got lost, missed a bus, stole meat from her bowl, or even flicked a booger in secret, all of which she had to report to him.
Fu Sang really didn’t want to know the details of Zhuge Buhuo flicking boogers, so he’d set Huo Wei’s messages to mute early on and couldn’t be bothered to read whatever she sent. Now, having stumbled upon some fresh gossip that could make Zhuge Buhuo furious, he generously opened Huo Wei’s chat to share it with her.
After all, the Zhuge family was notorious for their aloofness. Though they’d study basic feng shui and divination as part of their training, they prided themselves on being nether path spirit masters and would never degrade that noble profession by lumping it together with feng shui fortune-telling charlatans for the same money. So they strictly forbade their disciples, especially the direct-line children, from using the family name to earn such side income.
Fu Sang remembered that Zhuge Buhuo was very proud of his genius little brother. Letting this news reach him would definitely make him frantic.
After sharing this little handle, Fu Sang exited the chat and really prepared to sleep. But just before pressing the lock button, something crossed his mind, and he paused subtly.
As if suddenly realizing something, Fu Sang tapped back into Huo Wei’s chat and scrolled up through the history.
The last thing Huo Wei had said to him was that Zhuge Buhuo had eaten three bowls of noodles half an hour ago and was hungry again, as if he was a reincarnated starving ghost. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that the message was from noon.
It was now 1 AM.
Huo Wei hadn’t sent a single message in thirteen hours.
For a chatterbox who’d even talk about a companion flicking a booger, thirteen hours of complete silence was extremely abnormal.
Unless, in those thirteen hours, Zhuge Buhuo had turned over a new leaf and behaved exactly as Huo Wei wished, stripping her of all desire to complain or share.
But the likelihood of that was infinitely close to zero.
Instinct told Fu Sang something was off.
So at 1 AM, he called Huo Wei directly.
After a long wait, a cold female voice from the earpiece told him:
The number is temporarily unavailable.
