"Why does my head hurt so much? What is this thing running wild inside my brain?"
At the Armed Police General Hospital in Quancheng City, Chen Yi, who had been unconscious for an entire day and night, finally regained some semblance of awareness. The searing headache and the sensation of a foreign object in his head made him forget everything that had happened before he passed out.
He struggled desperately to open his eyes, but it was futile. His body felt alien to him, unresponsive no matter how hard he tried. Even the simplest act of opening his eyes was beyond his reach.
Beep, beep, beep.
The sound of an unknown machine echoed in his ears, growing increasingly urgent and heightening his panic.
"Doctor! Doctor! The heart monitor is changing!"
A familiar voice broke through the haze—Aunt Liu from the orphanage.
Liu Aijiao had rushed over as soon as she heard about Chen Yi's condition and had been keeping vigil by his bedside for an entire day and night without resting.
Though Chen Yi was an orphan, in Liu Aijiao's eyes, he was no different from her own child.
"Chen Yi, Chen Yi, can you hear me?"
Another voice, this time filled with urgency, reached his ears. It was Luo Yan.
When Chen Yi had been knocked unconscious by Thief San, Luo Yan had immediately called for an ambulance, contacted the doctors on the way, and stayed by his side ever since.
"Doctor, what's wrong with Chen Yi? Will he wake up?"
Aunt Liu clutched the doctor's arm tightly, her eyes brimming with hope and fear, dreading bad news.
"Don't worry. He's showing signs of responding to external stimuli, so he should wake up soon. For now, let's not disturb him. Let him regain consciousness naturally. We'll need to conduct further tests to determine the size and location of the blood clot in his brain before proceeding with surgery. Rest assured, he's a citizen personally commended by the city's Public Security Bureau leadership. We'll do everything we can to save him."
"Doctor, will there be any lasting aftereffects?" Luo Yan hesitated before voicing her concern.
Chen Yi's injury was to his head, and it was severe. If he woke up with irreversible complications, it would be a catastrophe.
Luo Yan would be haunted by guilt for the rest of her life. After all, it was her negligence that had led to this.
If she and her team had kept a closer watch on Thief San, none of this would have happened.
Who could have foreseen that Thief San possessed such extraordinary skills, slipping out of handcuffs with ease?
"It's hard to say. We'll need to observe him further once he wakes up. The brain is the most complex and sensitive part of the body, and predicting the outcome is nearly impossible. However, the patient is currently showing signs of improvement, which is a positive development."
The doctor's words allowed Liu Aijiao and Luo Yan to breathe a sigh of relief, though the weight on their hearts was only partially lifted.
Pain. Excruciating pain.
Chen Yi had never experienced such agony before. It felt as though a swarm of tiny snakes was gnawing at his brain, devouring his marrow, his essence—everything.
Comfort. Unprecedented comfort.
A paradoxical sensation. While his head throbbed with unbearable pain, his body felt as though it were submerged in warm water, enveloped in an almost unbelievable sense of relief.
Yet the physical comfort was no match for the torment in his head. His entire focus was consumed by the boundless pain.
If someone handed him a knife at that moment, he wouldn't hesitate to sever his own head, not even for a second.
He couldn't bear this torment for even half a moment longer.
"Is he still not awake?"
An indeterminate amount of time passed before a man's voice broke the silence.
"It's all my fault. If I hadn't carelessly lost that money, Gousheng wouldn't be in this state."
The man's voice was filled with endless regret.
The speaker was Li Haoran. Chen Yi could recognize his voice, even hearing the heavy breaths he took.
His senses—hearing, touch, smell—had all become far more acute than before, amplifying his suffering.
The pain in his brain was magnified countless times, tormenting him to the point where he wished for death.
How he longed to slip back into unconsciousness and escape this hellish torment. But fate was cruel. Not only was unconsciousness an unattainable luxury, but his awareness seemed to grow sharper.
"Could this be because of nerve damage in my brain?"
Chen Yi could only speculate in his mind, unable to voice his thoughts.
Another day and night passed. The pain in Chen Yi's head gradually subsided, replaced by an itch so intense it made him want to moan.
It was a warm, healing itch, like the sensation of a wound rapidly closing.
When Chen Yi finally emerged from the endless darkness and managed to open his eyes, the first thing he saw was Liu Aijiao's weary face, etched with the marks of time.
She sat there in a daze, lost in thought.
"Ah! Chen Yi, you're awake?"
Liu Aijiao, startled by his awakening, leapt to her feet in excitement.
"Aunt Liu..."
"Chen Yi, you scared me to death! Don't you ever do something so dangerous again..."
Liu Aijiao's emotions, suppressed to their limit, finally burst forth.
"What is this? What are these black mists?"
Chen Yi's gaze followed Liu Aijiao's movements, and he noticed that the room was filled with wisps of black mist.
These mists were peculiar, moving along irregular paths, unaffected by human actions, even passing through walls.
"Black mist? What black mist?"
The joy on Liu Aijiao's face was instantly replaced by worry. Could Chen Yi have suffered lasting complications?
"Aunt, can't you see it? The room is full of black mist!" Chen Yi asked hoarsely.
"Chen Yi, don't scare me. There's no black mist. Tell me you're mistaken," Liu Aijiao pleaded, tears streaming down her face.
This well-behaved, obedient boy—could he truly be ruined like this?
"What's going on? Is something wrong?"
A tall, graceful nurse with delicate features entered the room. "The patient is awake? I'll call the doctor!"
The young nurse, seeing that Chen Yi had regained consciousness, quickly ran out to fetch the doctor.
Moments later, a doctor in his fifties entered the room, accompanied by the nurse, and began examining Chen Yi.
"Golden light? What's going on here?"
Chen Yi noticed that the nurse was surrounded by a faint golden glow, entirely different from the black mist. The golden light radiated warmth and serenity, in stark contrast to the cold, restless black mist.
The nurse, who had initially found this patient rather likable—handsome, well-built, with a rugged charm distinct from the polished allure of television stars—now felt utterly disgusted.
Since entering the room, the young man's gaze had been fixed on her chest, unmoving.
Even though she had encountered her fair share of "lecherous patients," she couldn't help but blush. If not for her professional demeanor, she might have slapped him on the spot.
But the nurse had misunderstood. Chen Yi wasn't staring out of lust; his focus was on the golden light emanating from her chest.
"Is that pendant of yours from a temple?"
Chen Yi had a theory. The "phenomena" he was witnessing weren't hallucinations but the result of his cultivation of the Yulong Scripture advancing to a new level—the Divine Insight stage.
To confirm his hypothesis, he set aside decorum and asked directly.
"Huh? How did you know? My mother got it from Qianfo Mountain," the nurse replied, momentarily forgetting her annoyance.
The day before, she had overheard visiting officers mention that this patient was a feng shui master who had helped solve several major cases.
She had even joked with her colleagues about asking him to read her love fortune.
Chen Yi's expression remained calm, but a storm raged within him.
It wasn't a coincidence—it was real!
When he was sixteen, after leaving the orphanage with no education, no skills, and no strength, he had been forced to scavenge at a waste site to survive.
And it was there, amidst the refuse, that he stumbled upon his destiny—a dilapidated compass that seemed neither stone nor jade.
That compass had opened the door to his life as a feng shui practitioner.