People Say I Studied Architecture and It's Just Easy to Read Feng Shui.

Chen Ye, 20 years old, a college student majoring in architecture, has three things to do every day: sleep in class, cook in the cafeteria, and lie flat in the dormitory. He also has a hidden identity - a folk Feng Shui master and a Taoist priest who has been passed down from his ancestors for five generations. Usually I am too lazy to take orders until someone slaps a wad of cash on the milk tea table. The Nanhu Red Building construction site collapsed, and the "orthodox masters" from Longhu Mountain were helpless. Chen Ye carried an old canvas bag that had been washed white and wore slippers to the scene, and casually broke the decapitated dragon vein. The ancestral compass was activated for the first time, and a line of bloody words appeared on Grandpa's handwritten notes: "There is something at the bottom of the South Lake..." What is pressed underneath is not a corpse, but a mass of unconscious negative energy - "earth fetus". It is waking up, and Jiangcheng's largest real estate developer is also pursuing its plans. A genius who was too lazy to move was picked up by life, only to realize that he was stepping on the lifeblood of a city. Dao does not distinguish between high and low, and Qi does not recognize money. This time, he couldn't win lying down.