Chapter 25: Exploration
After leaving Granny Wan’s house, I pulled out my phone and searched for news about the Bai family’s cargo ship running aground. I hadn’t expected what I found—the incident had already become a trending topic, and all the legal risks were clearly laid out. If the Bai family couldn’t move the freighter within two days, they’d be facing astronomical compensation claims.
The reports were accompanied by various expert analyses, and every single specialist agreed: unless they waited for the full moon in half a month and leveraged the immense tidal forces, moving the ship was utterly impossible. In the meantime, the experts advised the courts to freeze the Bai family’s assets in advance, because no miracle was going to happen.
Beneath the articles, the comment section was filled with gloating netizens, their words vicious and mocking. Some even targeted Bai Xiaoli directly, saying that if the Bai family went bankrupt, they’d be willing to have her as a mistress, or other such despicable remarks.
Reading this torrent of online abuse infuriated me—so I could only imagine how Bai Xiaoli herself must feel. For the first time, I deeply felt the enormous pressure she was under, and I understood why she’d agreed to her father’s plan to marry off whoever could move the ship.
I gazed up at the waning moon in the night sky and thought of Bai Xiaoli’s sorrowful face today. Seeing the schadenfreude of those online, along with the so-called experts ready to kick someone when they’re down, I couldn’t help but clench my fists. “To all those who can’t wait to watch my wife’s misfortune, just wait till tomorrow—you’ll be astounded!”
To ensure everything would go smoothly the next day, I didn’t go straight back home after shutting off my phone. Instead, I followed the location given in the news to the spot where the Bai family’s cargo ship had run aground—the Longtou Canal.
The Longtou Canal was a grand project developed at great expense by Duhe City, opening up a new route from the Yellow River to the sea for inland cities, thus boosting the local economy tremendously. Just as famous as the canal itself were the mountains flanking it.
“The Yellow River flows far into the white clouds, a solitary city stands amidst a thousand ‘blades’ of mountain.”
The peaks on both sides of the “Longtou Canal” were uniquely shaped—each one soared skyward, resembling a sharp sword blade standing sentinel over the Yellow River, imbuing the area with a stern, forbidding aura, as if guarding this vital economic passage against demonic disturbances.
It was clear that when the canal’s location was chosen, Duhe City had consulted a feng shui team for evaluation. This stretch wasn’t the closest point where the Yellow River met the sea, but it was the most auspicious. Back when the site was selected, I remembered many netizens accusing Duhe City of taking the long way just to embezzle funds, and the city never bothered to explain. Now, standing here in person, I had to admit—knowledge determines one’s perception.
Though it was already midnight, the Longtou Canal was ablaze with lights. A massive freighter lay stuck across the canal, blocking both banks completely and halting hundreds of ships behind it. Dozens of excavators toiled on either side, trying to widen the channel. Yet, compared to the ten-thousand-ton freighter, these machines were as insignificant as ants. To think they could move the ship was more than wishful thinking—it was impossible.
After surveying the site’s feng shui, I could more or less conclude that the cause of the stranding wasn’t anything supernatural—evil spirits couldn’t even enter this place. Relieved that it wasn’t the work of demons, I relaxed. The ship was lodged firmly, heavily laden with cargo; to be honest, aside from myself, there was likely no other feng shui master in Duhe City capable of moving it.
Done with my investigation, I turned to head back. On the way, I ran into a few other feng shui masters who’d come early to scout the site, none of whom I recognized.
As I walked, something felt off. The position and angle where the ship had run aground seemed strange. The Longtou Canal was wide enough that, barring a major operational blunder, such a severe grounding shouldn’t have happened.
Could it be that someone had bribed the captain to deliberately cause the accident, using it as leverage against the Bai family?