Chapter 3: The Haunting of the Earthly Fiend

Yang Rui nodded, withholding his opinion for the moment. He opened his kit and withdrew an ancestral bronze compass. The archaic copper disc cast a faint, eerie glow in the dim light. Holding his breath, he steadied the compass on his palm.

As he approached the newly installed floor-to-ceiling windows of the west wing, the magnetic needle in the center basin shuddered violently, then began to swing erratically, unable to find a stable heading. As Yang Rui moved, the oscillation intensified, descending into a chaotic, irregular spin. When he reached the edge of the newly excavated foundation pit in the back garden—where damp soil and gravel lay exposed—the needle went mad, whirling at high speed and emitting a faint, shrill, buzzing vibration.

"What... what is happening?" Chen Bojun asked, his face draining of color.

"A magnetic field! There is an incredibly powerful and disordered magnetic interference here!" Yang Rui said in a low, grave voice. He set the compass down and pulled a palm-sized instrument with an LCD screen from his bag—a Gauss meter. He switched it on and set it to measure static and pulsed magnetic fields.

The readings began to jump wildly near the new windows, far exceeding ambient background levels. When he pointed the probe toward the old wall foundation beneath the windows and the center of the new pit, the numbers on the screen surged instantly. The static magnetic field intensity reached staggering levels of several dozen to over a hundred microteslas, far beyond safety thresholds. Even more bizarrely, the values were not stable; they pulsed with intense, intermittent spikes. Simultaneously, Yang Rui activated a more specialized device: a low-frequency vibration and infrasound detector.

The instrument’s spectrum analyzer clearly captured a series of abnormal signals in the 16-20 Hertz range. This was the scientifically recognized "ghost frequency," known to induce deep physical discomfort and auditory hallucinations in humans.

Yang Rui’s expression darkened. He packed away his instruments and looked sharply at Chen Bojun. "Mr. Chen, I have found the root of the problem. It lies in this renovation! You have disturbed the 'geological energy' foundation of this mansion—or more accurately, you have dismantled a 'warding' layout that was meticulously, if perhaps imperfectly, constructed by your predecessors."

"Warding? Malignant energy?" Chen Bojun’s voice trembled.

"In modern terms," Yang Rui said, pointing to the residual peak data on his device, "this old mansion likely sits atop a unique, highly magnetic geological structure. Whether due to geological faults or abnormal groundwater movement, it naturally produces a powerful, chaotic magnetic field and low-frequency vibrations. Ancient practitioners had limited knowledge of these natural forces and collectively termed them 'earthly miasma' or 'dark, malevolent energy.' The feng shui master who built this house for the Chen family was a true expert. He didn't try to suppress these forces by force; he used a more sophisticated method of 'channeling and dissipation'."

He walked to the site of the demolished wall and pointed toward the back garden’s filled-in lotus pond. "Look at the layout! The old wall you tore down was exceptionally thick; it likely contained magnetite powder or iron ore slag. It wasn't just a wall—it functioned as a massive magnetic shield and a guiding barrier. It constrained the chaotic energy rising from the ground and channeled it in one direction—likely toward that old lotus pond in the back garden. Water is 'yin' and connects to the earth's energy, making it the perfect 'drain' for malevolent forces. Water absorbs and dissipates energy, while aquatic plants provide a buffer for the bio-field. That predecessor used the architecture itself, combined with 'warding objects' buried at specific nodes—like custom-forged pig iron, copper-coin swords containing special alloys, or magnetite arrays—to construct a subtle 'energy-diverting formation.' It was essentially an invisible drainage pipe for the restless energy beneath the earth."

"Then... why did things go wrong?" Chen Bojun asked urgently.

"The problem is," Yang Rui sighed, gesturing to the new foundation pit, "the master who set up the formation either underestimated the strength of the source or there were slight deviations in the path or the placement of the buried objects. This meant the 'drainage pipe' was never perfectly secure; it existed in a delicate, fragile state of equilibrium. Your renovation cut through the critical guiding path by tearing down that wall. Filling in the pond blocked the only exit for the dissipated energy. Excavating the new foundation likely disturbed or destroyed the buried 'warding objects' and destabilized the entire magnetic structure. You essentially ruptured a pipe that was already under pressure."

"The consequence," Yang Rui said heavily, "is that the 'earthly miasma,' constrained for over a century, has erupted. It has lost its direction and is now rampaging through the house. The strong magnetic field interferes directly with human neurological systems and bio-electric signals—causing the severe dizziness, loss of orientation, metallic auditory hallucinations, and muscle spasms experienced by the matriarch and your second son. The abnormal infrasound is highly penetrative, acting directly on internal organs and deep brain structures—triggering nausea, inexplicable primal fear, low-frequency humming, and physiological dysfunction. These phenomena are the physical manifestations of these runaway energy fields. This isn't ghosts; it’s uncontrolled natural physical forces wreaking havoc."

Chen Bojun listened, dumbfounded, cold sweat dripping down his back. Yang Rui’s analysis was seamless, and the instrument data provided ironclad proof. Just as he was about to place his full trust in Yang Rui and beg for a solution, a cool, distinctly displeased female voice rang out from the doorway:

"Uncle Chen, how can you believe in such baseless, unscientific speculation? 'Earthly miasma'? 'Drainage pipes'? This is pure nonsense—it’s nothing but superstitious charlatanry!"

The group turned to look. A woman of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight walked in. She stood tall, dressed in a sharp, tailored beige suit. Her makeup was impeccable, and she wore rimless glasses, behind which her eyes were sharp as blades, carrying the scrutiny and detachment typical of an academic elite. She was followed by two young assistants carrying silver metal instrument cases bearing the logo of a prestigious university and the words "Environmental Monitoring Center." They looked significantly more professional and high-end than Yang Rui’s equipment.

"Xiaojin! You're here!" Chen Bojun looked as if he had found another lifeline. Looking slightly awkward, he quickly introduced them: "Master Yang, this is Dr. Su Jin, the daughter of my old friend Su Zhengyang. She is a senior researcher at the National Institute of Environmental Sciences, specializing in urban environmental physical fields and their impact on health. With the trouble I’ve been having, I reached out to have her come and take a look. Dr. Su, this is Master Yang, a local feng shui... uh... environmental consultant." He chose his words carefully.