Chapter 43: The Eighteenth Level

Hearing Master Xu’s words, I quickly acknowledged and hung up the phone, then started pressing the elevator button in haste.

Whether the elevator was deliberately working against me or my luck had simply run out, I couldn’t tell. I was now on the top floor of the building, and both elevators were descending, stopping repeatedly along the way.

With over twenty floors, running down the stairs wasn’t the best option. I anxiously pressed the elevator button, hoping it would come faster!

Master Xu had told me to leave, and even to run. That meant things had grown dire.

It must be that I had inadvertently triggered something within that Nine Heavens Thunder Array; otherwise, Master Xu would not have sounded so urgent.

Finally, with a chime, the elevator doors opened. I rushed inside and frantically pressed the close button.

The elevator began to descend. My eyes were fixed on the floor indicator. Whether it was my impatience or a problem with the elevator itself, it felt agonizingly slow.

When the indicator changed to “17+,” the elevator stopped.

17+—what was that?

Ah… wasn’t that the eighteenth floor?

In our culture, countless ancient myths and folk taboos have always existed. The number eighteen, its homonym meaning “prosperous,” is considered auspicious—many people choose it for license plates and phone numbers, hoping for good fortune.

But when it comes to floors, many instinctively avoid numbers like 4, 14, and 18. Four and fourteen are avoided for obvious homonym reasons.

Yet eighteen, usually seen as lucky, becomes a taboo when tied to the word “floor.” Because of the legend of the eighteen levels of hell, the eighteenth floor is particularly sensitive in the feng shui of tall buildings.

I am, after all, a feng shui master.

In my studies, the eighteenth floor isn’t particularly ominous. In fact, its feng shui is fairly decent. When choosing a floor, one must first examine the room’s space and surroundings, paying special attention to the flow of wind. The ideal is gentle breezes and harmonious energies. Too strong a wind disperses fortune, so even if the room is otherwise auspicious, it’s best avoided.

The best wind should be mild and refreshing, a gentle breeze stirring pleasant feelings.

The reason the eighteenth floor becomes taboo is simple—from a feng shui perspective, it’s prone to “Words of Misfortune.”

Words of Misfortune!

Previously, Gu Xiaogang’s family suffered from this curse due to their burial plot. When they built their house, they filled a pit in the foundation with sand and stone, then constructed the house atop it. People said, “Their house is built in a pit,” or, “It’s built above a pit.” Thus, the curse of Words of Misfortune formed. To counteract such curses, a radish is often tossed into the pit first.

This curse isn’t very harmful by itself, but combined with other feng shui issues, it can turn vicious, as in Gu Xiaogang’s case.

The eighteenth floor is similar. If someone says, “They live on the eighteenth level of hell,” or, “Their house is on the eighteenth level of hell,” the curse forms. If other issues arise alongside it, the situation can escalate into something far more dangerous.

To avoid these taboos, many real estate developers use creative solutions, replacing numbers with letters like D, E, F, or expressing the eighteenth floor as “17+.”

It’s a clever way to dodge the curse. “They live in 17+, such-and-such number”—no curse is formed.

Now, the elevator had stopped at 17+, and my heart sank.

Trouble, as expected.

Damn it, what you fear most always comes to pass!

When the elevator doors opened, not a soul was outside.

An empty hallway—nothing particularly frightening. But the doors refused to close again, which was unsettling.

Most would assume the elevator was malfunctioning. I thought otherwise, for I sensed a thick, sinister energy saturating the air.

Clearly, someone—or something—was keeping me from leaving.

It would be a lie to say I wasn’t nervous.

“By urgent command! Presence!” I swiftly slapped a Binding Talisman onto myself. Immediately, a refreshing sensation surged through my mind, sharpening my focus and easing my anxiety.

“Stop hiding! Show yourself!” I stepped out of the elevator and shouted loudly.

I hadn’t seen my adversary yet, nor did I know if they were human or ghost. I dared not remain in the elevator, whose doors wouldn’t close—what if they caused it to plummet from eighteen floors? That would be no joke.

I had already retrieved a Heavenly Whirlwind Talisman from the jade box, one of the highest-grade talismans I possessed.

Holding the compass, I channeled my spiritual energy into it, ready to activate the talisman at any moment.

Yet, after I stepped out, silence enveloped the surroundings—utter, deathly quiet.

“Show yourself! Or I won’t hold back!” I shouted again.

So far, I’d found nothing. My shouting was mostly to bolster my own courage.

A faint click sounded behind me. I spun around—the elevator doors had finally closed.

Then came a series of strange, shuffling noises.

I hastily stepped back, ignoring the now descending elevator. Pressing my back to the wall, I gripped the talisman tightly and concentrated.

Drip, drip, drip…

I heard a faint sound, like water droplets falling.

I listened closely and edged along the wall toward the source.

Rounding a corner, I peered down both sides of the corridor.

The hallway was short, with doors at either end, all shut tight.

I had already opened my spiritual sight and the Listening Palace. Whether human or ghost, I should have been able to see them.

But the corridor was empty.

Drip, drip, drip…

The water droplets continued. I frowned and approached the spot where the sound originated.

Soon, I saw some liquid dripping from the ceiling.

I sniffed, recoiling two steps. I immediately realized it wasn’t ordinary water, but liquid saturated with sinister, malevolent energy.

I couldn’t say why such water was dripping from the ceiling, but I knew for certain I must not let it touch me.

I retreated several steps, cautiously scanning my surroundings.

Then I noticed the area had grown dim, as if dusk had fallen.

It was morning, and the hallway had windows—there was no reason for it to be so dark.

“Who’s playing tricks? Come out if you dare! I’m not afraid of you! Hiding in the shadows—what kind of coward are you?” I shouted again.

Of course, my own voice betrayed my lack of confidence.

Anyone who could plunge the surroundings into such darkness was no ordinary opponent. I certainly couldn’t achieve such a feat.

“Are you looking for me?” Suddenly, a voice sounded right beside me.

I was startled, spinning around to see a small figure standing less than a meter away.

“Mother of mercy!” I cried out, stumbling backward in fright.

The person had appeared so suddenly, silently, and at such close range.