Lu Zhao can see Qi. Birth, prosperity, decline, death—people's hearts and family fortunes have no place to hide in his eyes.
At his grandfather's funeral, he saw a black aura lingering between his uncle's brows, which was the aura of the dead.
Pursuing all the way, he dug up an old property seizure case from thirty years ago, and also dug up his own life experience:
His surname was not Lu at all, he was the child of the family that was taken away from him in that old case.
And the Lu family had raised him for twenty-eight years, just to use his destiny to calm their own dying days.
