My name is Chen Xuan. I can transfer the backlash of feng shui and fatal curses to others... but every time I do, someone has to die...
On a stormy night, I rush into a back-alley clinic with a dying boy in my arms and slap down bloodstained money. "Save him!"
The old doctor lifts the boy's clothes, revealing a web of black marks caused by backlash.
He sneers. "I've seen these symptoms before, seven years ago."
"Back then, your master saved someone, but the backlash struck. His whole body rotted, and he died."
"The backlash on this boy... should be on you!"
I look down at my smooth arms. The deadly black marks are now writhing beneath the boy's skin.
The clinic door suddenly bursts open. The boy's father laughs maniacally, a gun in his hand. "I've waited seven years for you to transfer the backlash!"
"Kill my son and you'll live. Choose, feng shui master!"
