Realm of the Night God

Chapter 3: Theres Something Wrong with Your Toilet!

Under Guanhai's guidance, Yang Haoran arrived at the home of his friend, who had been waiting for him. His friend, surnamed Liu, was already at home, having taken the day off immediately upon receiving Guanhai's call.

Mr. Liu was a round-faced man with a bald head, sparse strands of hair stubbornly clinging to the sides. Despite his efforts to style his hair in a way to conceal his baldness, it was futile. Perhaps due to sentimental attachment or the desire to cling onto what little hair remained, Mr. Liu persisted with his chosen hairstyle, hoping to mask his baldness. However, it was an exercise in futility, akin to denying the inevitable reality. Despite his efforts, he would have been better off shaving his head entirely.

Perhaps owing to his baldness, Mr. Liu harbored a peculiar sentimentality towards his hair, preferring to maintain what little he had left rather than shave it all off. After all, the unattainable always stirs desire; the more one cannot have something, the more they desire it. Many people fall victim to this weakness.

After a brief conversation, Yang Haoran gained some understanding of Mr. Liu. At thirty-one years old, Mr. Liu was only a year older than Yang Haoran, yet he appeared ten years older, likely due to stress and late nights.

Though these details had little relevance to today's visit, Yang Haoran sought to understand them nonetheless, for there was a reason behind everything.

Following the conversation, Yang Haoran wandered around Mr. Liu's house with an air of superiority, hands clasped behind his back, inspecting every room with a discerning eye.

Guanhai and Mr. Liu followed Yang Haoran silently. While Yang Haoran remained silent, Guanhai continuously praised Mr. Liu's house layout and exquisite decorations, subtly implying that Mr. Liu had made a wise investment.

Like most people, Mr. Liu enjoyed receiving compliments. Far from being a saint, he reveled in Guanhai's flattery, praising Guanhai for his youthful insight and wisdom, acknowledging his astute observations and articulate speech.

Listening to the mutual flattery behind him, Yang Haoran remained impassive, secretly disdainful of both men.

The house consisted of three bedrooms and a living room. Yang Haoran toured the house quickly, feeling no inexplicable chilliness—a sign of relative cleanliness.

However, now was not the time to tell Mr. Liu about this. If he didn't gain some benefit from today's visit, it would all be for naught. Yang Haoran had professional ethics to uphold.

Returning to the living room, Mr. Liu approached Yang Haoran, hoping to discern his thoughts. Seeing Yang Haoran's serious expression and silence, Mr. Liu smiled outwardly but felt a sense of unease in his eyes.

"Master Yang, what do you think of my house?" Mr. Liu asked tentatively.

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Yang Haoran didn't reply immediately, instead furrowing his brows and maintaining silence. His reaction sparked a sense of foreboding in Mr. Liu, who grew anxious.

"Master Yang, is there... is there something wrong with my house?" Mr. Liu inquired.

Yang Haoran glanced at Guanhai before fixing his gaze on Mr. Liu's anxious face, breaking his silence at last.

"Since you're Guanhai's friend and a year older than me, I'll address you as Brother Liu," Yang Haoran replied with solemnity.

Mr. Liu felt the urgency mounting within him. He wanted to know if there was a problem with his house, not exchange pleasantries with Yang Haoran. But Mr. Liu had lived thirty-one years, enough to understand that though Yang Haoran's words seemed frivolous, he dare not dismiss them outright. Instead, he politely declined.

"No need for formalities, Master Yang. You are a respected figure, and you addressing me as Brother Liu... I couldn't bear it," Mr. Liu protested.

Yang Haoran waved his hand, displaying a masterful demeanor, and continued, "It's just a form of address, Brother Liu. Let's focus on discussing your house."

Mr. Liu had initially intended to refuse, but as soon as Yang Haoran mentioned the house, he abandoned the topic of formalities and hastily asked, "What's wrong with my new house?"

Yang Haoran pointed to the toilet and said to Mr. Liu, "Brother Liu, do you see if there's any issue with your toilet?"

Upon hearing this, Mr. Liu hurried to the toilet and carefully inspected it, but found nothing amiss. Nevertheless, he tentatively asked, "Is it because I installed a squat toilet instead of a flush toilet? Do I need to change it?"

This remark nearly caused Yang Haoran to burst into laughter, but he managed to restrain himself. Instead of laughing, he maintained his serious demeanor, while Guanhai behind him couldn't help but grin, revealing his white teeth.

Under Mr. Liu's gaze, Yang Haoran shook his head, feigned profundity as he took a few steps towards the door, then pointed at the entrance, sighed softly, and explained, "Alas, Brother Liu, having the toilet directly facing the front door is not a good sign—it's a Feng Shui taboo."

Mr. Liu's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Feng Shui taboos; the term itself was daunting. Anxious, he tried to say something, but Yang Haoran gestured to stop him.

Seeing Mr. Liu's puzzled expression, Yang Haoran continued, "The toilet is a place of filth and negative energy. Having it directly facing the front door affects the luck and health of everyone in the house. May I ask, Brother Liu, and your family, have you been experiencing smooth work and good health recently?"

Without hesitation, Mr. Liu replied, "Everything is fine. My luck is okay, and there are no issues with my family."

A flicker of amusement crossed Yang Haoran's lips, but he quickly resumed his neutral expression. His inquiry to Mr. Liu was merely a setup.

Having conversed with Mr. Liu previously, Yang Haoran knew a bit about his situation. Knowing that Mr. Liu's parents were alive and in their fifties or older, it was normal for them to have some health issues at their age.

Moreover, luck was ephemeral. No one's luck remained good indefinitely; there were always some problems. Even if Mr. Liu's luck had been fine recently, what about his family? It was improbable that everyone's luck was perfect.

With these thoughts in mind, Yang Haoran's questions to Mr. Liu were calculated traps. However, what he didn't expect was Mr. Liu's response—a slap in the face, figuratively speaking. It stung.

However, Yang Haoran wasn't one to back down. If he couldn't handle such a minor issue, then he had no place in this business. Perhaps it was time for a career change.

Maintaining his composure, his face devoid of smiles, Yang Haoran nodded subtly after hearing Mr. Liu's response. Then, he spoke solemnly, "It seems the situation isn't as dire as I thought. You should count yourself lucky. Since you've recently moved in, the negative effects haven't affected you and your family yet. That's a good thing. But if left unaddressed, it may pose problems in the future."

Mr. Liu quickly asked, "So, what should I do?"

"Well, it's not too troublesome to fix," Yang Haoran said, deliberately slowing his speech.

Seeing this, Mr. Liu immediately understood. With a flattering smile, he took out a red envelope from his pocket and cheerfully stuffed it into Yang Haoran's bag.

Yang Haoran's brows furrowed slightly, but inwardly, he felt a sense of satisfaction. He didn't show any hint of a smile on his face, but instead deliberately blocked Mr. Liu's attempts, feigning surprise and rejecting the envelope. However, his resistance was half-hearted, and the envelope was successfully "forced" into Yang Haoran's bag by Mr. Liu.

The moment of receiving the envelope was crucial. Showing any sign of pleasure at this moment would ruin the image he had worked so hard to build.

Seeing Yang Haoran's "resistance," Mr. Liu began to wonder if his envelope was too small. But upon reflection, he realized it wasn't the case. Throughout Yang Haoran's rejection, he hadn't glanced at the envelope once, nor had he touched it during their interaction. In theory, Yang Haoran couldn't possibly know how much money was inside the envelope, so how could he complain about its size?

Just as Mr. Liu was feeling both embarrassed and puzzled, Guanhai spoke up.

"Yang, you know, Brother Liu is my friend. Although we've only known each other for two days, I really like Brother Liu's straightforwardness. We're all straightforward people here, so there's no need to beat around the bush."

Guanhai's words were well-phrased, diffusing Mr. Liu's embarrassment while subtly reminding Yang Haoran that Mr. Liu was just a new acquaintance and not worth the trouble. As long as Yang Haoran didn't go too far, everyone could get along just fine.

Yang Haoran understood Guanhai's meaning and knew that his intervention was to spare Mr. Liu embarrassment. However, Yang Haoran was confident in his abilities. Even without Guanhai's intervention, he could ensure the smooth continuation of this charade without making Mr. Liu feel uncomfortable or losing his air of superiority.

As for Mr. Liu, upon hearing Guanhai's straightforward words at this moment, he couldn't help but feel touched. He believed he had chosen his friends wisely and immediately gave Guanhai a grateful look, pounding his chest with his fist and saying emotionally, "Good brother, I haven't misjudged you. In the future, just say the word whenever you need anything!"