The Almighty Mystic Just Wants A Quiet Life - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The mountain rain was misty. As the silk-like threads fell, the wind followed, rustling through the bamboo.

Bo Nan looked out, and as his qi-field expanded, he gradually gained control over everything in the mountain. He naturally knew he had struck two people—if it weren’t for the qi-field he had left behind last time acting as a trigger, the energy wouldn’t have attacked on sight.

His eyes drooped, raindrops clinging to his eyelashes, trembling slightly as he blinked, hanging there without falling.

With the Yin-Yang Fish and the Jade-Core Bamboo as bargaining chips, the weight is sufficient. The insects behind this person should be sticking their heads out now…

Bo Nan deftly flipped up the cliff from the platform and walked into the bamboo forest. The mountain now had a master; it no longer rejected Bo Nan’s qi-field. His energy rippled outward, roaming through the forest with pleasure, touching everything within range and echoing back, feeding information to Bo Nan.

Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat. It felt as if something had broken through the soil—a tiny, tender green tip extending a soft tentacle that lightly brushed against the strings of his soul.

Found it.

Bo Nan glided over the scattered bamboo leaves, tracing the source of the scent. As he delved deeper, the sea of bamboo swallowed him whole. Sparse sunlight filtered through the canopy, creating dazzling spots of light on the dark, emerald, and lime greens, swaying gently with the breeze.

He pushed aside dense branches, and the view suddenly opened up. The surrounding bamboo seemed to be blocked by an invisible wall, revealing a circular clearing. Heavenly light poured down, enveloping the center where several translucent white bamboo shoots had poked their heads out, only the size of a knuckle. Beside them grew two or three stalks of jade bamboo, less than a meter tall; even before he drew close, his mind felt refreshed.

Before Bo Nan could react, the jade stalks shot upward at an incredible speed, defying all common logic. In the blink of an eye, they grew half a meter. At this rate, they would burst into bamboo flowers within three minutes.

When bamboo flowers, it dies.

Treasures of heaven and earth wait for the fated person; if the timing is missed, the fate is gone.

The qi-field of this Jade-Core Bamboo was clear and stable, like a seal or a talisman. Compared to the ones he had seen in his past life, it was like heaven and earth.

Bo Nan immediately stepped forward and pressed his hand against the base of a stalk. He let out a muffled grunt as the sharp bamboo tip instantly pierced his palm. Had he not reacted correctly, his hand would have been skewered through.

He began to feel grateful he had claimed this mountain peak. With that process complete, the dynamic between him and the Jade-Core Bamboo had shifted. Previously, obtaining it would have meant fighting the entire mountain’s qi plus the power of the Yin Fish; now, he and the mountain were working together to subdue the bamboo. The difficulty had plummeted.

But at the exact moment Bo Nan intended to use his qi to suppress them, the Jade-Core Bamboo stopped growing. Fresh blood was sucked into the stalks, forming small red marks. His expression shifted as the qi-field suddenly flared. The originally clear energy now carried a trace of killing intent (sha qi). Before he could examine it closely, the energy retracted, wrapping around Bo Nan’s palm and settling quietly and obediently in his hand.

Bo Nan was stunned. It’s done?

This is basically a freebie.

He had never heard of a natural treasure being “blood-bound” to a master. This world was mystical, but not that mystical. Yet, the cluster of Jade-Core Bamboo sat obediently in his hands.

With a gentle tug, he pulled the stalks and the shoots out of the ground. By any measure, they were now his.

He leaned down to inspect them. The stalk stained with blood had a qi-field that was now cryptic and difficult to discern—he’d set that aside for now. The other stalks and shoots remained unchanged.

Not bad. Still usable.

He crushed some soil in his hand and brushed it away, seeing a few more specks of jade-white. If nurtured for a while longer, new Jade-Core Bamboo would likely grow.

Bo Nan buried the soil as it was. The feng shui here was excellent; adding a small layout would be superfluous, and he didn’t have the materials for a grand one. He chuckled to himself—nothing is perfect.

Fine, let it be.

A poor man has his ways. Before leaving, Bo Nan also harvested a bundle of ordinary bamboo surrounding the Jade-Core stalks. In the past, with plenty of Jade-Core Bamboo available, he would have used low-quality pieces as bedding to extract essence for other artifacts. Now, he couldn’t be so picky.

A handful of bamboo infused with the spiritual aura of the Jade-Core would suffice for a substitute.

Since the mountain was sealed and people were moving about, Bo Nan didn’t linger. He headed straight down and went home.

As he entered the door, Auntie Li jumped in surprise. “Second Young Master? Why are you back? Didn’t you say you were staying at Little Green Mountain for a while?”

“Too many bugs up there,” Bo Nan greeted her with a smile. “Where’s my dad?”

“The Master went to the office.” Auntie Li paused, then asked, “Coming back at this hour, have you eaten? Want some snacks?”

Bo Nan waved her off. “No need. I’m going up to shower. I have things to do in a bit. Auntie Li, tell everyone to clear out the back garden. No one is allowed in there for a while.”

Halfway up the stairs, he stopped. “Is there any boiled pork? If not, make a plate, sliced. Also a chicken and a duck—both plain boiled, no seasoning. And some pastries and fruit.”

“Yes, Second Young Master.” Auntie Li looked at him with confusion. This menu sounded like an ancestral offering for Tomb Sweeping Day or New Year, but she didn’t ask questions and went to inform the others.

Before entering his room, Bo Nan raided his father’s closet and grabbed a Tai Chi training suit that his father had bought for show but never worn. He took his shower very seriously, soaking for over an hour until his skin wrinkled. Putting on the training suit and grabbing the paper money, incense, and candles he’d bought on the way home, he headed to the garden.

Auntie Li saw him and prepared to follow with the food. Bo Nan took the food box himself. “I can go alone. You go rest.”

“Young Master, you’re…” Auntie Li started, seeing him laden with bags.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about me.”

Bo Nan entered the garden and scanned the area. Seeing no one, he nodded in satisfaction. He set up a proper altar. Without the “Large Three Sacrifices” (pig, cow, sheep), the “Small Three Sacrifices” (pork, chicken, duck) would do. He lit two large red candles, took three sticks of incense, and recited a formal passage in classical prose. He performed three prostrations and nine kowtows, paying his respects to Heaven and Earth.

Then he took the paper money to the back gate. Instead of drawing a circle on the ground as is common, he burned the paper right there, letting the wind swirl the ashes—respecting the ghosts and gods.

The King of Hell is easy to meet; it’s the little ghosts that are troublesome. This paper money was a bribe for the wandering souls.

Usually, he wouldn’t bother with these rituals, but for a home feng shui layout, he didn’t ask for divine assistance—he just asked for no interference.

When he returned to the garden, the candles were down to their last drops of wax. Bo Nan waited quietly for them to go out naturally before clearing the table. The work officially began.

He placed the locust lightning-struck wood to one side. Though it was wood, it had been transformed by heavenly lightning; it sat outside the Five Elements, a union of hard and soft, Yin and Yang.

The Taihu stone was already in position. This represented the Mountain, belonging to Earth.

The Jade-Core Bamboo: Jade is Water, Bamboo is Wood. Water and Wood coexisting.

The Five Elements still lacked Metal and Fire. Bo Nan intentionally left these out. His father, Bo Weiping, had a destiny belonging to Fire; his brother, Bo Yizhen, belonged to Metal. As long as these two lived in this house, the Five Elements would be complete.

With Yin-Yang and the Five Elements present, this was a “Two-Instrument Layout” Liang Yi Ju.

It sounds simple, but the simpler it is, the harder it is to master. A normal Two-Instrument Layout just harmonizes qi and extends life, but by adding the Five Elements and using people to complete the cycle, it meant the three elements (Earth, Wood, Water) would nourish the two (Metal, Fire). The Yin-Yang essence would be pushed directly onto his father and brother.

Bo Weiping had retired, leaving the power to Bo Yizhen. Therefore, Bo Yizhen was the pillar of the house. With the others nourishing him, and Metal governing sharpness and wealth, he would be unstoppable. The Taihu stone would be as stable as a mountain—meaning he had a strong backing. The Jade-Core Bamboo governed wealth and steady rising, while also warding off evil and preventing harm from “little people” (schemers).

The reason the lightning-struck wood was so perfect was its locust wood base. Locust is an extremely Yin wood. Although the lightning’s Yang energy suppressed it, the fact that the wood survived meant the Yin remained, balanced perfectly with the lightning.

If a schemer tried to act against them, the Yin would instantly overwhelm the Yang. The Five Elements would reverse, and the Metal would become a blade—a strike to the head that only a miracle could survive.

Bo Nan did not include himself because, like his father, his destiny was Fire. If he were added, the Fire would be too strong and melt the Metal, potentially harming his brother.

Of course, once the array was set, he would move out soon. He couldn’t live here long-term, though occasional visits were fine. He needed his own “home,” and that home could not be here.

Little Green Mountain was perfect. It had treasures, great feng shui, and few people, making his actions easier.

Bo Nan felt no regret. He was a feng shui master; he could change the layout whenever better materials came along. If he got lazy, he’d just move the whole family to a new house and set up a new layout there.

Having money and skills means being that willful.

He stood with eyes closed, sensing the breath of heaven and earth.

The Taihu stone he had placed before was like a mountain, wrapping the home in a peaceful, steady qi-field. Now he had to reclaim dominance over it, which required effort.

To create, one must first destroy. Bo Nan activated his qi, casually whipping the surrounding wind into a mess.

The breeze circling the garden gathered around him, clinging to him.

The open bag of glutinous rice nearby rustled in the wind. He thought he heard someone gasp, followed by hurried footsteps and the sound of fabric rubbing—Auntie Li and the others were rushing to bring in the laundry.

A grain of rice moved, then was knocked by another, sounding like raindrops. Bo Nan opened his eyes and looked. A white ribbon of rice flew out of the bag. The wind surged, howling as it swept the rice upward. Each grain became like weightless snow, forming a hazy white whirlwind around him.

This was the move to re-set the xue while the Taihu stone was caught off guard.

Bo Nan pressed a hand down. The whirlwind paused, but the rice didn’t fall; it hung in mid-air. By now, the Taihu stone’s qi-field had reacted, fighting back fiercely to stop Bo Nan from fixing the new point.

Bo Nan’s brow furrowed. This Taihu stone was indeed an artifact that had absorbed most of the Yin-Yang Fish’s energy; for a moment, even he couldn’t overcome it. He could only wear it down slowly, a test of will.

Time passed. The Taihu stone’s qi grew stronger while Bo Nan’s seemed to weaken. Using its “home field” advantage, the stone was actually holding its own against him.

Bo Nan, having planned this, wasn’t about to let it win. His eyes swept over the offering table. A flash of inspiration hit him. He grabbed the meter-long, blood-stained Jade-Core Bamboo stalk. It hadn’t grown leaves yet—just a long, thin rod of perfect thickness. In his hand, it felt like a longsword.

Holding it, Bo Nan struck downward. A surge of sharp, metallic qi erupted, forcefully shattering the Taihu stone’s resistance. The rice hanging in the air suddenly slammed to the ground, creating a sound like a torrential downpour.

Inside the house, everyone froze at the sound. They instinctively looked out the window. The sky was clear; there was no rain.

Where did that sound of heavy rain come from?

Bo Nan gave a low huff, his expression showing a hint of exhaustion.

The ground was covered in glutinous rice. The grains seemed sparse but followed a pattern, perfectly distributed on each floor tile. With the “sword” behind his back, he took a few leisurely steps, finally stopping by the pond.

This pond was where his father kept his expensive koi. His father had gone through great trouble to pipe in fresh running water. Now, rice floated on the surface, but not a single koi was in sight.

Bo Nan’s shadow fell over the water. The startled koi finally poked their heads up and began frantically devouring the rice on the surface.

A good omen.

Bo Nan narrowed his eyes and walked into the center of the pond. He didn’t need to look; with his years of experience, even the koi eating the rice wouldn’t distract him. After a few steps, he stopped in the exact center.

In the middle of the pond was a Taihu stone rising from the water. Bo Nan found the angle and tapped it with the bamboo sword. The stone exploded softly, revealing a cavity perfectly sized for the lightning-struck wood.

The moment the wood was placed, the layout was finalized.

The other two parts were already correct: the Taihu stone’s position didn’t need changing, and the Jade-Core Bamboo was planted in the northeast corner—the Gen position, representing Earth. Earth produces Wood; it was perfect.

But the layout wasn’t complete yet. It lacked the two main people.

He picked up the phone and called his brother. “Hey, Bro. You and Dad need to come home right now. It’s an emergency.”

Before Bo Yizhen could speak, his father’s voice roared from the other end: “You little brat! Don’t you tell me you messed with my fish! Uncle Ding said you’re throwing explosives into my pond—is that true?! I’m telling you, if it is, even your mother coming back today won’t save you!”

Bo Nan: