**Chapter 32: The Supreme Feng Shui of Twin Oxen Plowing**
Li Chengfeng frowned. The agonized bellows of oxen echoed clearly in his ears, yet Wang Bin and the villagers seemed deaf to the sound. He pointed eastward. "The cries are coming from there. *Listen*."
Wang Bin tilted his head, hearing only chickens clucking and dogs barking. "You're imagining things," he chuckled. "Come on, let's—"
"No." Li Chengfeng cut him off. "It's real. And it's *terrified*."
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They trudged past fallow fields toward the village outskirts. The air thickened with each step, the phantom bellows growing louder. Yet when they reached the eastern edge, only two moss-crusted stone oxen greeted them—one adult, one calf, carved from bluish granite. Their mouths gaped toward the village, frozen mid-bellow.
Wang Bin snorted. "You're telling me *rocks* are screaming?"
Li Chengfeng pressed a palm to the larger ox. The stone vibrated faintly, its surface slick with oily residue. Black tendrils of *sha qi* seeped from its maw. "Not rocks. A **Shuāng Niú Huàn Gēng** formation—Twin Oxen Summoning the Harvest. A supreme feng shui array… corrupted."
A weathered voice rasped behind them: "Who taught you that name, boy?"
An elderly farmer leaned on his hoe, eyes sharp beneath a straw hat. Wang Bin gaped. "Uncle Six? You know about this?"
The old man spat tobacco, gesturing at the statues. "These guarded Shiniu Village for two centuries. Until *they* broke."
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