After Old Master Zhao passed away, he was laid to rest in the auspicious plot of land he had carefully selected, as he had wished. Only outsiders didn't know, not even his own son, and Master Zhao himself was oblivious, that the site had already been compromised. His son was merely puzzled that the coffin lid his father had described as brown turned out to be black when the "Eight Great Vajras" (married men specifically tasked with interring the deceased—a tactic later favored by the half-immortal Wang) dug the grave. He muttered to himself, "Perhaps my father's eyes were failing him."

He certainly had no inkling that there were three more curses, as Old Master Zhao had not disclosed the full details to him. Thus, he remained optimistic, believing that with his father buried in a treasure ground, his own business would flourish, and his descendants would become increasingly prosperous.

Strangely, ever since Old Master Zhao was interred in that now-ruined auspicious location, fortune truly did shine upon the family; their business boomed, and things went swimmingly. Apart from that one severe rainstorm, the other two curses had remained dormant. What amazed the villagers most, as they carried Old Master Zhao's remains up the mountain, was finally seeing the legendary stone coffin; everyone marveled at it.

Some predicted the Zhao family would soon amass great wealth. Others suggested a Zhao descendant would become an official. There were even whispers of a central government cadre emerging from their line. Murmurs of envy, jealousy, and the agreeable chatter of onlookers filled the air. Regardless of the noise, it was Zhao's son who was inwardly ecstatic.

But the reality was far more complex than they imagined, for ever since Old Master Zhao's passing, the Zhao family seemed afflicted by a curse against women. However, everyone overlooked this problem due to their newfound wealth, thinking such things were common among the rich. Zhao's son, a year after his father’s death, leveraging his money, threw out his first wife and married a younger woman. Yet, this young woman suddenly died of a myocardial infarction exactly forty-nine days after their marriage. What about the son's son? He didn't banish his first wife like his father, but his wife also died of illness at the critical juncture of thirty-six. Then the "good fortune" passed to the third generation, Zhao Shan. His situation was far worse and defied all expectations: his wife not only failed to bear the Zhao line "dragon seeds" or "tiger cubs" but left him with three "bastards" before passing away. More critically, his business was not faring as well as his grandfather's generation; a distinct air of decline had settled over it.

Zhao Shan stood before his paternal grandfather's ancestral grave, gazing out at the surrounding rivers and mountains. He couldn't help but wonder aloud, "Even as a layman, I can sense this is indeed an auspicious location. Standing high, seeing far. It gathers the wind and conserves the qi, uniquely positioned at the summit. But why, by the third generation, has my wife died early, and why have I been left with three worthless 'prodigals'? Is this place not a true treasure ground after all?"

"Is it possible the Yin-Yang master back then was mistaken?"

"If it is true, then why did the business start to wane by the third generation?"

"It must be that my grandfather was mistaken and hired a fraudulent Yin-Yang master," Zhao Shan suspected.

"But if the tomb we buried him in is a fake stone coffin site, where is the real one? Could it still be undiscovered here on the Four Saints Ridge, or perhaps hidden somewhere else in Xiushan Village?" Despite his worries, he preferred to believe they had buried him in the genuine stone coffin site. He remembered some elders, half-understanding Feng Shui, saying that when Yin-Yang masters are involved, the positive and negative cycles intertwine; no matter in the world escapes this principle.

A blessed land can also be a cursed land. When Heaven assigns a great task to a person, even the Tang Monk endured eighty-one tribulations on his journey for the scriptures. Sima Qian was a great literary master, yet he was castrated by Emperor Wu of Han. King Goujian of Yue was a sovereign, yet he served as a mere beast of burden for ten years under his enemy's command. He consoled himself, "All this is temporary. If I marry again, I will surely father a tiger cub worthy of the general’s line."

"It must be so. Great fortune is always preceded by great hardship; look at all the great figures throughout history." Zhao Shan suddenly couldn't help but laugh. He turned and waved toward Butler Zhang, making a gesture to descend the mountain. But just as they decided to leave, they suddenly saw a person walking towards them from the opposite direction.

Just as Zhao Shan was about to head down the mountain, he unexpectedly encountered someone approaching their location. This person was none other than Zhang Enpu. Zhang Enpu was no longer the aloof old man he once was; thanks to the life-saving merits of eradicating the drought demon, subduing the spirit official, and eliminating the baleful qi, Zhang Enpu was revered like a deity by the villagers of both hamlets. Since arriving in Xiushan Village, he had sensed that the Feng Shui here was excellent, indicating a convergence of great dragons. Thus, driven by professional instinct, he couldn't resist tracking the spiritual (mai luo, ley lines) and lingqi (spiritual energy) to the Four Saints Ridge.

When he saw the location of the Zhao family ancestral grave, a smile of satisfaction first crossed his face, immediately followed by a look of utter dismay. "What a pity, what a shame! Which unscrupulous Yin-Yang master managed to deceive this family into burying their ancestor here after the site was already damaged? Alas! Such a superb treasure ground wasted, what a sin!"

He mumbled to himself while walking towards Zhao Shan and his party.

"May I ask who you are, sir, and why you have come here?" Zhao Shan noticed him.

Zhang Enpu smiled but did not answer directly, "Are you honoring your ancestors here?"

Zhao Shan replied, "Yes, it’s the Qingming Festival; we've come to visit our predecessors."

Zhang Enpu commented, "This location gathers the great mai (veins), arches toward the heavens and embraces the moon; the Feng Shui is exceptional. The descendants of this grave are certainly destined for extraordinary wealth and nobility."

Zhao Shan shook his head, "You are too kind; it's merely average, nothing as good as you say."

Zhang Enpu countered, "There's no need for modesty. The fortune for the first three generations is guaranteed. After the third generation? Well, that's harder to say."

Hearing this, Zhao Shan’s entire body jolted, feeling that Zhang Enpu had voiced the very thoughts he had harbored: "Is that so? How will it become unfavorable?"

Zhang Enpu stroked his beard, "To seek the divine lair only to be deceived; wealth scattered, descendants become fools. After three generations, this branch of your family will cease to have offspring and vanish from the family records."

Zhao Shan was shocked, nearly fainting, yet he managed to maintain his composure, wanting to test what kind of divine being this man was. "Heh, sir, who are you, to curse my entire family? Aren't you afraid I'll hire someone to beat you up?"

Zhang Enpu replied, "You don't need to know who I am; I only wish to tell you the truth. Bitter medicine tastes best, and honest advice is often hard to swallow."

Zhao Shan frowned, "On what grounds do you assert that this grave will lead to extinction in three generations? Didn't you just say this place has marvelous Feng Shui?"

Zhang Enpu affirmed, "Indeed, I said this location's Feng Shui is superb, but the pity is that someone has already damaged the site. Your ancestor was buried in a broken nexus. In a normally auspicious Feng Shui location, your line would likely have already coughed up blood and died out. Fortunately, this is a peerless treasure ground rarely seen in a millennium; although damaged, it has still preserved the wealth and prosperity of your three generations."

"Is that so? It sounds convincing, perhaps you read too many mythological novels. I never believed in Feng Shui; it’s all superstition. Let me tell you, I am doing very well now. My children are healthy, my business is growing larger every day, and I’m enjoying life immensely. Who are you trying to scare with your ghostly talk?"

Zhang Enpu was not angered, merely speaking slowly and deliberately, "What, you don't believe me? Then let me ask you, who is buried in this grave?"

Zhao Shan replied, "My paternal grandfather."

Zhang Enpu nodded, then performed a calculation with his fingers. "Hmm, you are exactly the third generation. Let me recount it for you and see if I am correct. I’ll start with your grandfather, the one buried here today: he was killed when a falling tree, struck by lightning, crushed him. This angered the stone coffin and incurred heavenly wrath—a celestial punishment."

"Next is your father. After your grandfather died, his business flourished, and he cast out his first wife, taking a young woman surnamed Zhao as his second wife. Sadly, this second wife died of illness on the forty-ninth day after their marriage. Then came your father; his business was even better than your grandfather's, and his household grew larger. But your grandmother died unexpectedly of illness when he was thirty-six. Now we come to you. Although your character has improved somewhat in your generation, the fact that the destiny's thread is cut cannot be changed. Your business is gradually declining, and your wife could not escape the fate of an early death, passing away when you turned forty. That would be manageable, but she gave birth to three useless sons. These three sons—one is simple-minded, one is volatile and flighty, and one is idle and lazy. They cause you trouble every day and never seem to care about the state of your household. Is that correct?"

Zhao Shan was stunned, almost wanting to prostrate himself before this living immortal. He had merely glanced at his ancestor's grave and had recounted the circumstances of three generations as if reading from a family ledger. He sighed, shaking his head with a bitter smile, "Sir is truly a master. Yes, as you say, my grandfather was killed by lightning. My grandfather, father, and my wife—none of the three escaped an early death. Most importantly, I truly have three useless sons, and business is getting worse. Alas, sir, you mentioned earlier that the place where my grandfather is buried is a broken nexus—what does that mean? As far as I know, my grandfather specifically consulted a Yin-Yang master about this site back then!"