The Feng Shui Master of the Nine Netherworlds

“Place cinnabar on the acupoint, bury the corpse at the hour of the Tiger, seal the coffin with Xu earth. Wherever the Zi-Wu meridian is shifted by three inches, blood fiends will arise.”

On the yellowed rice paper, the characters my grandfather had written in cinnabar bled a rusty dark red.

I traced the crack along the edge of the bronze compass. Beneath it lay a book titled The Record of Geomancy in the Nine Hells. At midnight last night, the book, which should have been buried with my grandfather, appeared at my bedside. Two of the nine talismans sealing yin energy had been torn from its cover, revealing a line of blood-red writing inside:

**“The Book of Life and Death is torn, yin and yang run in reverse. Chang'an, you cannot escape.”**

A sinister wind suddenly rose outside the window. The compass needle spun wildly, pointing straight to the Kun position in the southwest.

There stood the most notorious haunted house in Jiangcheng: the Qingwu Mansion.