I'm a feng shui master. My teacher says there are three great taboos in this line of work: never look at the road outside a door, never look into the life or death of another person, and never look at ancestral graves.
One night this winter, my childhood friend Shunzi came to me and asked me to inspect the feng shui of his old house.
When we arrived, a funeral was underway.
A body lay in the middle of the main room. According to local custom, it was covered with a yellow quilt and a red blanket, with a sheet of white paper laid on top.
A gust of wind blew in and lifted the paper, revealing a pale, bluish face.
I happened to glance at it, and the hairs on my body stood on end.
The person lying inside was… me!
