Chapter 27: Master, have you spotted the problem?

Su Chen crunched into his deep-fried dough stick and slowly spooned a mouthful of pot-side paste into his mouth before curiously studying the middle-aged man.

"Uncle, what is it you want me to divine for you?"

The middle-aged man had already reached out, grabbing Su Chen’s right hand—the one holding the dough stick—and shaking it vigorously before letting go. "Master, you simply must help me!"

Old Zhang perked up his ears, listening intently.

"For some time now, I’ve been waking up from nightmares every single night. The moment I wake, I hear rustling sounds all over the house. I thought it was rats, but I’ve searched everywhere and found nothing. Occasionally, there are these chilling cries... they sound like ghosts!"

The man gestured to the dark circles under his eyes. "Master, look at these eyes. I haven’t slept in three days and three nights. As soon as I close my eyes, those sounds start up again!"

"My younger sister visited yesterday and told me you helped my niece avoid a calamity through your divination, which is why I came to find you. Please, Master, calculate for me if I’ve accidentally offended some spirit. Help me plead on my behalf; I truly didn't mean it! I'll burn spirit money if that will help!"

Su Chen chuckled upon hearing this. This was a classic case of a desperate person clutching at straws. Usually, people would seek out a professional exorcist for such matters, not a fortune teller. He examined the man more closely and sought to reassure him.

"Uncle, setting everything else aside, if you really did offend someone, it certainly wasn't anyone from the underworld."

The man was stunned. "W-what does that mean?"

Old Zhang caught the implication. "It means you haven't provoked any spirits. Could it be that you're just being paranoid?"

"Impossible! Why would I be like this for no reason?"

A customer at the stall, having overheard the conversation, chimed in, "Big brother, could it be that you're under a lot of work pressure, or perhaps you're suffering from headaches due to unpaid wages?"

Recently, many factories in Cuicheng had been struggling, and there were frequent reports of delayed or withheld wages, with some businesses even on the verge of bankruptcy.

The middle-aged man waved his hands repeatedly. "That’s not it at all. I’m a civil servant."

Old Zhang nodded subconsciously. "Well, that’s certainly a stress-free position."

From the memories of the original owner of his body, Su Chen knew that in this era, being a civil servant wasn't just a "secure iron rice bowl"; when visiting villages on official business, they were wined and dined, often returning home with gifts. There was typically little stress or trouble to be found there.

The young man who had asked the question was also puzzled. "Then, big brother, why are you having nightmares?"

"That’s exactly why! I must have been hexed. Master, you clearly have real abilities; you have to help me." The man continued, "It must have been something I picked up while working in the villages. We’ve had a heavy workload lately and have been to at least a dozen different villages. I have no idea which one I might have picked it up in!"

Su Chen held back a sigh and offered a polite smile. "Uncle, there is truly no trace of yin energy on you."

He had already entered the path of cultivation. Although his practice was still shallow and required him to be close to sense such energy, he was certainly capable of distinguishing between its presence and absence. It simply wasn't there.

"Then... then what on earth is going on?" The middle-aged man looked frantic.

Old Zhang suggested, "Maybe it really is just rats or something. Why don't you try moving to a new place?"

"Would... would that really work?" The middle-aged man actually began to consider it.

Su Chen narrowed his eyes, studying the man’s face. He set down his dough stick, pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his hands, and finally spoke. "Give me your hand."

The man hesitated for a moment but complied, extending his arm. Su Chen rolled up the man's sleeve and pressed three fingers against his pulse. He pressed, released, pressed, and released again, repeating this five or six times before withdrawing his hand.

"Uncle, your complexion suggests some issues with your spleen, stomach, and brain, but after taking your pulse, the problems don't seem to be severe."

Old Zhang was surprised. "Young man, you know how to take a pulse? Are you trained in traditional medicine?"

"Yes, medicine and the Way are not separate. This is Taoist medicine; I know a thing or two." Su Chen turned back to the man. "Uncle, tell me carefully: when did you first wake up from a nightmare? Do you remember what happened that day?"

"Who could possibly remember that?" The man scratched his head in frustration.

"Then, what have you been eating and drinking lately? You must remember what you consume every day, surely?"

"I... I go out to the villages for work every day and eat and drink there. The only thing I have at home is a bowl of mushroom and pork rib soup my wife makes for me every night..." The man’s eyes widened suddenly. "Master, are you suggesting my wife is poisoning me?"

At this, the other customers immediately became interested.

"Uncle, could it be your wife has a lover and is trying to torture you to death?"

"It’s definitely for life insurance money; they do that in the movies all the time!"

"Did you have a falling out recently? Is she holding a grudge?"

The middle-aged man blinked blankly at these suggestions. "I... I don't know."

Su Chen finished the last of his pot-side paste and stood up. "Whether or not you know, I’ll likely have the answer once I visit your home. Old Zhang, collect the money."

"Coming right up! That’ll be eighty cents."

The man paid the bill and, looking somewhat unsettled, led Su Chen toward the street corner. "Master, do you think my wife is really trying to harm me? Even though our marriage was arranged, we’ve rarely argued since we wed. It doesn't seem right."

Su Chen patted his shoulder. "Don't overthink it. We'll see when we get to your house."

"Oh, right, okay."

At the street corner, Su Chen waved his hand, and a red taxi slowed to a stop.

Su Chen gestured to the driver, "Brother, we aren't—"

Ridiculous! A taxi ride starts at five yuan. It’s too expensive; who would pay that? But before he could finish, a familiar face popped out of the window. "Brother, it’s me! Ah Wei, a friend of Brother Biao."

"Where are you headed?"

Su Chen: "..."

Well, it was hard to refuse such hospitality. Fine, he’d just get in.

Zhang Wei was quite talkative. Once they were in the car, he asked, "Brother, where to?"

The middle-aged man gave the address, and Zhang Wei stepped on the gas. Before they arrived, he asked Su Chen, "Brother, I heard Uncle Ye went along yesterday. What happened? Did you fail to stop him, or did he commit suicide?"

"No, Uncle Ye just wasn't in good health and was too heartbroken."

Zhang Wei understood. "I thought so. Brother Biao had promised me, so I assumed..."

"Sigh, I heard he opened that shop over a decade ago just to earn money while waiting for his son to return."

Su Chen nodded.

"If he had met you sooner, he wouldn't have had to wait so long. People used to smuggle themselves out from that old ferry crossing all the time, and I’d never heard of any accidents there, though the police did raid it a few times. Who would have guessed Brother Ah Wang was buried right there?"

The middle-aged man looked confused and quickly asked about the old ferry crossing and who Ah Wang was. Zhang Wei immediately filled him in on yesterday’s events. The middle-aged man slapped his thigh. "The Master truly has real, remarkable abilities! To find someone at such a desolate, overgrown old ferry crossing after all these years—my situation today is surely resolved."

Zhang Wei asked curiously, "What’s your situation, big brother?"

The middle-aged man launched into his tale of woe once more. By the time he finished, they had arrived at the Xiawei district. The man insisted on paying the fare and enthusiastically led Su Chen into his home.

Xiawei was near the city outskirts. The man’s home was a two-story brick house. As Su Chen stepped inside, he noticed Zhang Wei following close behind.

Zhang Wei acted as if he were an old acquaintance. "Big brother, I’d like to have a look, you don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all, come in, come in! Have some tea."

The middle-aged man brought over a kettle of boiling water, fished some tea leaves out of an iron canister, and prepared a simple brew for them. Meanwhile, Su Chen had already walked through the entire ground floor, looking around.

"Master, have you spotted the problem?"

Su Chen nodded.

The man was delighted and was about to ask what it was when Su Chen said, "The feng shui is quite good."

The middle-aged man: "???"

Zhang Wei: "???"