Day 1 was about making room for improvement. Day 2 is about taking on the necessary challenges.
To walk the path of an authentic Feng Shui master, one must do more than just study theory. You must be willing to leave the comfort of home, brave uncertain terrain, and most importantly—know how to navigate foreign lands, not just geographically, but socially.
Today’s lesson centers around one of the most important metaphysical assets: Nobleman Connection (貴人). As the elders would say,
“出外靠朋友” — "When you go out into the world, you can only rely on your friends."
This phrase isn't just poetic—it’s practical. It reminds us that when you're far from home, your success depends on your ability to build connections.
You may not have all the resources or answers yourself, but someone out there does. And the key is this:
What do you bring to the table in exchange?
The ability to offer something of value, to contribute meaningfully, is the foundation of both noble friendships and real-world progress.
True nobility, in the metaphysical sense, isn't about status—it's about responsibility. It's about returning from your journey with wisdom, success, and stories—and then using those gifts to uplift your community and ensure your people grow with you.
In Feng Shui, this is beautifully symbolized by the Wood Mountain, which represents legacy, family values, and the desire to leave behind a respected name for future generations.
So today, we reflected not just on who we are becoming, but who we can uplift along the way—and what kind of legacy we’re building through our journey.









This stop was truly something extraordinary—a hidden temple nestled deep within a traditional Malay settlement. For those unfamiliar, this setting is quite unique, as Malay communities follow a completely different religious path from Chinese temple traditions. And yet, here stood a place of deep spiritual resonance and harmony, bridging not just landforms but cultural worlds.
The temple itself sits in perfect alignment with a Wood “Greedy Wolf” Mountain, an incredibly auspicious formation in classical Feng Shui—one known to amplify talent, charisma, and destiny. But what made this visit unforgettable was not just the landform... it was the people.
Because the road was too narrow for a bus, the entire temple exco team personally arranged transport—picking us up one by one in private cars, just so we could access the site. And when we arrived, they welcomed us like family, complete with a small celebration featuring barbecued meat, fried prawns, and homemade soya drinks.
And then came the moment I’ll never forget:
The temple caretaker looked me in the eye and said,
“We’ve waited 23 years for your arrival—just as foretold in our ancient records.”
That’s not something you hear every day.
Special thanks to Daniel, who made this encounter possible. It was through his connection and sincerity that we were introduced to this remarkable team. Daniel himself is now on his own path—walking the road to become a true Feng Shui master. I couldn’t be prouder of him.
This visit wasn’t just about landform—it was about destiny, hospitality, and the quiet magic of alignment. A powerful reminder that when the time is right, the road opens—even if the bus can’t get through.



Another stop that deserves special mention is a temple tucked within the heart of Bukit Mertajam town—yes, the very same Greedy Wolf Mountain alignment we encountered earlier. There's something powerful about how this mountain keeps appearing, as if reaffirming its significance through each site we visit.
This particular temple has a story of resilience. Not long ago, it was devastated by a fire. But what happened next was truly inspiring: donations came flooding in, from townspeople near and far. Some had moved away, others were long-time locals—but they all felt a connection strong enough to help rebuild the temple into what we see today.
Of course, with changing times, rules have shifted—no more incense burning inside the main hall. A small change, perhaps, but also a sign that human beings grow, adapt, and learn from past mistakes.
The lesson here? Legacy matters.
When something goes wrong—when disaster strikes or your journey takes a wrong turn—it’s your name, your conduct, and your contribution to others that determines how the world responds. This temple’s revival wasn’t just about faith—it was a reflection of the trust it had built over generations.
So yes, it’s okay to fall. It’s okay to get lost. But if your values are clear, if your intentions are noble, then even in your lowest moments, people will rise to meet you. They’ll conspire—not against you—but for your success.









Did I mention it’s durian season in Penang? Not just any season—but the peak of the peak, where the King of Fruits rules the land… and even the crowd. We had to compete with durian lovers from China and Singapore, who’ve been flocking to Penang just for a taste of its prized harvest.
Things have gotten so serious that the Penang state government now uses QR codes and even DNA tagging to ensure the authenticity of its durians. Yes—you heard that right. We’re no longer just eating fruit—we’re scanning it!
We had the chance to try a wide variety of durians, and it was an eye-opening experience for many. Most people only know the few commercial varieties commonly sold in town—the high-margin, popular ones. But on the farm, the real flavors came alive. At first, some were a bit hesitant... but after a few bites, they discovered their true durian soulmate.
To make the experience even more memorable, I invited the third-generation owner of the farm to introduce the different durians and share a bit of their history. The family is of Hakka origin, and their ancestors were granted a small piece of land three generations ago. Instead of going the usual farming route, they decided to take a gamble on durians—and the rest is pungent, creamy history.
Fun fact? The farm got a bit of unexpected fame because durian kept falling on customers' cars. Not exactly the five-star review you want… unless you’re trying to prove the fruit is really fresh!
We even wrapped up the visit with a “Durian Exam”—yes, a lighthearted test to see how much everyone remembered. And I’m happy to report: everyone passed with flying colors (and sticky fingers).