Chapter 115 

Baily’s eyes flickered with intrigue as Winnie stepped forward, stealing furtive glances at the officers nearby. 

Edging over to a cameraman still shouldering his equipment, Baily winked conspicuously, urging him to take action. 

Initially befuddled, the cameraman caught on as Baily’s urgent gesticulations neared the point of spasms. With the coast clear, he stealthily turned on the camera. 

Though the live broadcast was off and the show faced cancellation, they couldn’t afford to miss any potential footage before the final axe fell. 

Together, they discreetly set up the camera, aiming the lens directly at Winnie. 

Winnie, unfazed, locked her gaze on the elderly woman before her, her voice steady and cool, “You claim the father altered the blueprints because of a child’s untimely death, turning this house into a mausoleum. But the truth is, the child was already gone when the foundation was laid. This house was designed from the start to trap the soul of the kid!” 

The old lady bristled at Winnie’s words, her anger palpable, “You impudent girl, watch your tongue! What do you know? This is about our family’s child! You dared to desecrate the child’s ‘grave‘; you’re courting a curse!” 

Winnie stood her ground against the elderly woman’s accusations, her expression unyielding. “Someone will indeed face retribution, but it won’t be me. It’ll be the entire Smith family, including you.” 

“How dare you!!” 

“No need for denial. If what you say is true, why would you linger near this house, if not to keep watch over it?” 

e elderly 

The revelation that woman had been guarding the house shifted the atmosphere among the crew and guests, especially Kane. He had seen the old woman looming on the garden balcony, an ominous figure shadowing their every move. He had thought her merely averse to strangers near her property, but her true role was far more sinister. 

“Winnie, what in the world is going on here?” Kane demanded, unable to contain his curiosity. Without further engaging the elderly woman, Winnie turned to the group, explaining, “If I’m not mistaken, this is what’s known as a Fortune Pillar.” 

The term left everyone, including the nearby officers, baffled. The concept of a Fortune Pillar was as alien to them as it could be, far beyond their realm of understanding. 

While the crowd was clueless, Mervin paled at the mention. His face darkened further upon glimpsing the child’s remains buried in the concrete, anger mingling with his realization. 

“What’s a Fortune Pillar?” Candace whispered, her usually boisterous demeanor replaced by 

1/3 

10:52 

caution. 

Mervin inhaled deeply before explaining. “A Fortune Pillar is a dark art from the Mystical Sects, akin to a Life Driving Pillar. The latter is often used to ensure stability and protect descendants, but a Fortune Pillar is solely for amassing wealth and quaranteeing unending prosperity for a family.” 

He e paused, his voice heavy with disdain. “Unlike a Life Driving Pillar, the ‘pillar for gathering wealth must be the flesh and blood of its creator.. 

As Mervin’s grim explanation set in, the crowd collectively shuddered. The notion of sacrificing a living person was heinous enough, let alone one’s own flesh and blood. 

The group was initially incredulous, but as they pondered the old woman’s earlier mention of Eaton’s “illegitimate child,” a chilling possibility dawned on them. 

Before they could voice their suspicions, Winnie spoke sharply, revealing the harrowing truth. “This child was always intended to be the foundation of Eaton’s Fortune Pillar. Unwilling to sacrifice his legitimate offspring, he fathered a child with another woman. When the time was right, he killed the child, embedding its essence within the house to harness the spirit’s resentment and the property’s natural energy flow to attract wealth.” 

The practice resembles the Thai Kumarn Tong, where unborn children are used as spiritual guardians due to their potent anguish, similar to the Ghost Baby. A Kumarn Tong crafted from one’s own kin is far more potent; such is the power of blood ties. 

Unlike the Kumarn Tong, which requires blood offerings, the Fortune Pillar needs no sustenance, endlessly drawing wealth on its own. 

“To have built such a mansion for wealth generation two decades ago, the Smith family must have been no strangers to opulence. Only those who’ve tasted true wealth can’t bear the thought of poverty.” Winnie continued, “I suspect Eaton’s ancestors were wealthy merchants who fell upon hard times. Unable to recover, they sought the help of a geomancer, who devised this insidious scheme to rejuvenate their fortunes. 

The method must have initially succeeded, with the Smith family amassing a fortune through the child’s sacrifice. But what they didn’t know was that once the spirit could no longer sustain the family’s luck, it would begin to claim the lives of their own children to compensate. The children of Eaton you mentioned probably met with early graves, didn’t they?” 

As Winnie’s chilling words filled the air, the old lady’s face turned ashen, her wrinkled features blanching with the weight of undeniable truth. 

Winnie scrutinized the woman’s features, tracing the invisible bonds of kinship that seemed to connect her to the spirit of a child. A realization dawned on her, piercing through the haze of uncertainty. 

“Your grandson… he’s gone too, isn’t he?” Winnie ventured. 

10 52 

Her words hit like a freight train, causing the elderly lady’s pupils to dilate in shock, her body trembling uncontrollably.  Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Her grandson… 

It was strange because her family wasn’t directly related to the Smith family by blood. Yet, in that fateful year, whenever a child from the Smith clan passed away, one of her grandsons seemed destined to follow in death’s footsteps. It was a grim pattern, born from a marriage long ago to Eaton’s brother, entwining the two families in a shared fate they could not unravel. 

It was only later that Mr. Eaton realized the gravity of the situation and hastily sold the house. But even this drastic measure couldn’t lift the curse–like shadow that loomed over the family, and one by one, the grandchildren were lost until none remained. Mr. Eaton, alone with his vast fortune, found that no amount of wealth could bring back a single child’s laughter. 

Mr. Eaton had once resolved to destroy the cursed estate, but even the slightest demolition would cause his amassed wealth–acquired at the expense of his descendants–to suffer significant losses. 

With no children left and unwilling to forfeit his only remaining treasure, Mr. Eaton had not choice but to restore the house to its former state. 

And so, to ensure that future owners wouldn’t dare alter the house’s structure, he stipulated in the contract that no one could change the layout or the decorations. Furthermore, he invested in another property nearby, a grand villa, where he stationed the old lady to keep a watchful eye on the estate… 

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