Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Early the next morning, Liu Xiong informed me that the other Feng Shui Masters were ready at the ancestral grave.

I packed my gear and followed Liu Xiong out, only to find a helicopter trailing us in the sky.

Liu Xiong looked thoroughly ashamed.

“It’s just a bunch of paparazzi making up news. Please don’t mind them, Master Qiao.”

I nodded, not particularly bothered. If they wanted to film, let them. I’d washed my hair today, so they could film all they wanted.

The helicopter followed us all the way to Liu Xiong’s ancestral grave, located at Yuanzhao Cemetery on Xinghai Ridge. This was the most expensive cemetery in Hong Kong, the final resting place for many of the wealthy and famous.

Liu Xiong’s ancestral plot was situated near the very top of the hill, spanning a vast area. When we arrived, a large crowd had already gathered. To my surprise, there were also reporters on the scene, microphones in hand and cameras rolling.

Chen Zhen was standing among the crowd. Seeing us arrive, he jogged over, his face pale with anxiety as he tried to explain.

“Sect Master, things have gone south!”

It turned out that after yesterday’s entertainment news broke, the video of me at the airport saying Hong Kong’s Feng Shui had declined had also gone viral. In Hong Kong, Feng Shui Masters had always been honored guests of the wealthy, treated with the utmost respect. They weren’t about to take this lying down.

They had immediately decided to invite members of the Feng Shui Association to join them and were now broadcasting live to an audience. They were demanding that I, a Feng Shui practitioner from the mainland, apologize to the Hong Kong Feng Shui Masters for my ignorance and provocation.

“Liu, is this your girlfriend? Heh, she’s young, but she certainly has a big mouth. I’ll put it plainly: if she doesn’t apologize today, not a single person in all of Hong Kong will ever look at the Liu family’s Feng Shui again.”

The crowd parted to reveal an old man with a long white beard wearing a Tang suit.

At the sight of him, Liu Xiong’s expression changed instantly.

He walked over and politely shook the old man’s hand.

“President Xu, those are very harsh words. Is there some kind of misunderstanding here?”

Liu Xiong knew nothing about the airport video, so he naturally had no idea how I had somehow managed to offend these masters.

“Heh, whether it’s a misunderstanding or not, you’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

President Xu leaned on his cane as he walked up to me, letting out a cold snort.

“Was it you who said that Hong Kong’s Feng Shui has declined?”

I looked at the group of glaring old men and nodded.

“Yeah, so?”