After yesterday’s incident, Principal Yi had a good impression of Luo Yingbai and greeted him with a smile: “Yingbai is here, please come in. We’ll trouble you today.”
Luo Yingbai looked at the man behind Principal Yi and gave a dry laugh, saying, “Principal, don’t be too polite.”
He mustered up the courage to turn to the man and said in what he thought was his most obedient voice: “Teacher Yi… you, don’t be too polite either…”
Mona Lisa Yi, whose real name is Yi Yong, is their class’s professional course teacher, known for being extremely strict.
He got this nickname because students discovered his ability – no matter where you sit in class or from what angle you look up, you’ll feel like he’s staring at you. This function can be said to be quite terrifying.
Yi Yong involuntarily pressed his chest, his face revealing a hint of surprise – he hadn’t felt this comfortable at home for many days.
He was puzzled, looking at the sweet dad and the mystical student, feeling he was the only sane person present while realizing he was feeling more comfortable.
Yi Yong was engaged in an ideological struggle in his mind, following the two people.
Luo Yingbai glanced at the sofa facing away from the window and said, “Besides the flowers, this sofa should also be repositioned, preferably with its back against the wall.”
He paused and explained, “For good feng shui, the first principle is ‘mountains surrounding water’, which doesn’t necessarily refer only to outdoor site selection. Even in a small room, the seat must have a backing to avoid an empty feeling. Moreover, doors and windows are the qi openings of a house. Sitting here, with vital energy and killing energy mixed, of course, it’s easy to get sick.”
Yi Yong couldn’t help but say, “This sofa is mainly used by my parents; I rarely sit here watching TV.”
Luo Yingbai smiled, “Teacher, your brow is concentrated, your spirit clear, and your condition is indeed better than Principal Yi’s. At least your nighttime sleep shouldn’t be terrible with complete insomnia, and you won’t feel body-wide pain. But chest tightness and shortness of breath are unavoidable, right?”
Yi Yong and Principal Yi were stunned simultaneously, exchanging a glance. Recently, everyone in the family had been feeling unwell, but with different manifestations: the child and mother felt bodily pain, Principal Yi’s couple had insomnia, and Yi Yong had breathing difficulties. Luo Yingbai was right.
The disapproving expression on Yi Yong’s face gradually faded, and his gaze toward Luo Yingbai became more serious. He slowly said, “You’re right.”
Luo Yingbai said, “But these are minor issues. If I’m not mistaken…”
He turned his head toward the second floor, “The root of the problem should be up there.”
The three went upstairs. Yi Yong had always been proud of his calligraphic works and antiques, but when his student stopped before the paintings, he felt inexplicably nervous.
Yi Yong proactively asked, “Is there… a problem here?”
Luo Yingbai smiled at him, “Teacher, your treasures are truly numerous.”
These two pieces by Mi Fu and Cai Xiang are actually genuine. I’m truly enlightened.”
Yi Yong was stunned, his expression softening, “You’re quite young, but your eye is quite keen.”
“I once audited your elective course on appreciating calligraphy and paintings,” Luo Yingbai replied, his gaze fixed on another calligraphy piece – Su Dongpo’s “江上帖” (River Pavilion Note).
Luo Yingbai first offered a word of comfort, then turned the teapot to show the two: “Principal, teacher, you must remember in the ‘Taiping Preview’ section about the Feather Clan, there was an introduction to something that said: ‘In the East, there is a person seven zhang tall, wearing a chicken on the head, swallowing 3,000 evil spirits in the morning and 300 in the evening. Named Huang Fu, also called Shi Xie, eating ghosts as food and mist as drink.’ Please look, does this teapot’s shape resemble Shi Xie?”
Principal Yi had bought the teapot for its antique look and low price. Previously, when the body was dark-colored, he thought it was just some large flowers.
Now, with Luo Yingbai’s cleaning and reminder, he realized how bizarre the object was, nearly vomiting. Yi Yong’s expression was equally unpleasant.
Luo Yingbai understood his feelings but knew not how to comfort him, so he continued: “Shi Xie feeds on evil spirits and is inherently ‘containing yin and evil’. Using such a teapot would definitely affect the body’s yang energy, and moreover…”
He opened the lid and looked inside: “The tea leaves are first-day buds, right? First-day buds are a type of white tea, cool in nature. Constantly brewed in this pot, it generates and kills, gives and takes, causing yang energy to leak, harming the heart, lungs, and brain.”
The Yi family’s faces changed. Principal Yi asked, “What… what should we do?”
Luo Yingbai examined the teapot from various angles: “Oh, you should drink more oolong or pu-erh, red teas that are better for older people’s health.”
Luo Yingbai laughed and said, “The teapot is fine, I’m here, aren’t I? The purple clay surface that sealed the yin energy has been removed. Just bury it, and the symptoms will gradually disappear as long as you don’t use it for drinking water.”
He walked to the window, pulled out a carbon pen, opened the window, and casually threw it outside: “This spot captures wind and water, connected to tree veins. After burying it for a year, the teapot will naturally disperse its bad energy and return to soil.”
Just check regularly to prevent others from digging it up.”
Yi Yong, wearing high-prescription glasses, clearly saw the carbon pen shoot out like an arrow, precisely landing in the not-soft soil beneath a large tree at the building’s base.
He stared at the pen, then looked back at Luo Yingbai, remembering how he had slapped Luo’s head twice just days ago, suddenly feeling his hand hurt.
Principal Yi, having seen many strange people and things over the years, quickly calmed down. He had bought the teapot casually from a roadside antique stall and didn’t believe anyone intended harm—just an unfortunate coincidence that nearly caused a disaster.
Fortunately, his grandson had met Luo Yingbai at that store. Thinking this, Principal Yi felt relieved.
Without pulling rank, he sincerely thanked Luo Yingbai: “Thank you this time. If Didi hadn’t happened to meet you crying outside, our whole family might have died without knowing how. We can’t let you come for nothing. Young people shouldn’t carry too much money on the road. I’ll have your teacher transfer your compensation.”
As Luo Yingbai was about to speak, Principal Yi waved his hand, smiling kindly: “I won’t take advantage of the younger generation. Don’t refuse. Come, sit and have some tea.”
Luo Yingbai: “…”
Yi Yong looked at the teapot and weakly said: “Let’s have a drink.”
At least for a year, he didn’t want to drink tea again.
Luo Yingbai reminded: “Besides the teapot, that calligraphy scroll is also tainted. It’s fake anyway, so just burn it.”
“Oh, fake?” Yi Yong became interested. “Tell me why.”
His tone was more curious than challenging, and even Principal Yi looked at Luo Yingbai with interest.
Luo Yingbai smiled: “Su Shi’s calligraphy is clean and smooth, natural and elegant. This scroll is too wild, deliberately affected. It must be a later imitation.”
He spoke casually and confidently. Yi Yong openly admired him, while Principal Yi looked at the calligraphy and smiled, saying: “Everyone says Su Dongpo was wild in nature, writing poetry and calligraphy unconventionally. How can you be sure he didn’t intentionally do this?”
Luo Yingbai calmly responded, explaining his perspective on Su Shi’s artistic style and interpretation, ultimately impressing the two scholars with his unique insights.
