They call me the “Mad Feng Shui Master.”
Because I trust apps, not compasses, and use QR codes to ward off evil instead of peachwood swords.
They say I defy tradition, yet line up to ask me to change their luck.
Until I took a job to change my own fate: to rid myself of that damned “Nine Yin Severed Meridians” condition.
From then on, the modern city became my feng shui compass.
Subway lines were dragon veins in motion, big data was divination that let me spy on Heaven, influencer livestreams gathered the power of belief, and every skyscraper was a “modern dragon-suppressing stake” pinning down fortune.
When ancient mystical arts meet a cyberpunk metropolis, and a century-old conspiracy rises from the depths of the data sea,
the powerful figures lurking in the shadows finally panic:
“Stop! You’re not changing fate, you’re changing the very structure of the world!”
I pushed up my sunglasses and grinned.
“Wrong. I’m reinstalling the system of this calcified ‘destiny.’”
