Li Chengfeng froze mid-step, anger simmering. *Since when do they dictate when guests leave?* He turned to glare at Ye Wushuang. "What? Planning to invite me for dinner instead?"
The aunt jabbed a manicured finger at his discarded slippers. "You contaminated these! They cost 200 yuan – pay up or don't think of leaving!"
Li Chengfeng's face darkened. *Losing money before earning any?*
"Enough, Aunt." Ye Mengyao intervened wearily. "Let him go."
Ye Wushuang scoffed. "Scram, conman! Next time we'll break your legs!"
Biting back retorts, Li Chengfeng vowed silently: *One day you'll beg me here on your knees.* As he turned to leave, a BMW glided into the compound.
The door opened to reveal a man in indigo scholar's robes – Hu Yansong, vice-president of Qingzhou's Metaphysical Arts Association. A minor celebrity known for TV appearances about feng shui.
Ye Wushuang's demeanor transformed instantly. "Master Hu! We're honored by your presence!" She practically curtsied as he approached.
**Cultural Note:**
- *Metaphysical Arts Association (玄术协会 Xuánshù Xiéhuì)*: Organizations certifying practitioners of traditional Chinese esoteric arts.
Observing the hypocrisy, Li Chengfeng seethed. Hu Yansong's polished leather shoes stepped directly onto the marble floor without removing them – yet Ye Wushuang gushed: "Your footsteps bless our home!"
**Contrast Treatment:**
Earlier:
*Li Chengfeng:* "Remove shoes – peasant!"
*Hu Yansong:* Shoes remain – "Divine privilege!"
Ye Mengyao paled realizing her aunt had secured a heavyweight practitioner. The two "masters" stood worlds apart – one in tailored silk, the other in thrift-store cotton.
Hu Yansong's gaze swept over Li Chengfeng, lip curling in silent mockery. *Ant.*
As tensions peaked, a frail voice interrupted: "Master Hu, forgive this old blind man's poor hospitality."
Ye Gucheng emerged, supported by a maid. Li Chengfeng's newly awakened **Celestial Eye** (天眼 Tiān Yǎn – clairvoyant vision attained through spiritual rites) flared.
**Vision Description:**
- Thick obsidian smoke coiled around the tycoon's eyes, neck, right leg, and chest – precisely over his lungs.
- The metaphysical diagnosis aligned with physical symptoms: blindness now, impending respiratory/circulatory collapse.
"Mr. Ye," Li Chengfeng blurted despite himself, "Within three days, your leg, neck, and lungs will—"
"**Silence!**" Ye Mengyao's slap rang across the foyer. "You curse my father after being exposed as a fraud?" .
Ye Wushuang advanced, jewels clattering. "Get out before I—"
"Mark my words." Li Chengfeng backed toward the gate, voice cold as winter steel. "When death comes knocking, don't beg for the 'peasant' you scorned today."
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