What This Is
A concealed harm among the closest kin. 子 (water) and 未 (earth) form one of the six branch harms, also called the 六穿. A 害 is neither the open collision of a 冲 nor the binding of a 合 — it is hidden damage, what the classics call 暗损, harm that works quietly and most often among the people nearest to a person. 子未 specifically is earth harming water, the earth of 未 conquering the water of 子.
Its register is the closest one: 恩中招怨, resentment arising out of kindness, the near ones grinding on each other unseen.
When It Fires
It fires when both 子 and 未 are present in the chart and the harm is structurally live rather than dormant. Like all 六害, it operates in concealment, working under the surface of relationships rather than in open events.
What It Changes
It surfaces hidden strain among intimates. The harm reads as kin who do not get along, a quiet draining between people who are close, kindness that somehow turns to grievance. The water of 子 is harmed by the earth of 未, and the lived expression is the slow, concealed wearing of a near bond — the family tie or close relationship that erodes without a visible break.
The damage is quiet and entangled, harder to name than a clash precisely because it never declares itself.
How To Read It
Read it by whether the harm is live and by the chart's balance. A confirmed, active 子未害 surfaces the concealed-kin-friction register; dormant, it remains a latent feature. The texture is consistent — hidden, intimate, slow — and the depth turns on whether the harm lands on points the chart depends on.
It is read with care, never as open catastrophe: the 六害 is subtle and lingering, less visible than a clash but harder to resolve once it sets in. The reading is the harm against the chart's resilience and the closeness of the ties it touches.
Where This Shows Up
A harm of this kind is felt among the nearest relationships — kin who quietly do not get along, a draining tension with someone close, a goodwill that curdled into resentment without an obvious cause. It works in the register of family and intimates rather than public life, and it wears slowly rather than breaking openly.
Because it is concealed, the stretch it touches asks for attention to the quiet frictions among the close — the small grievances and erosions that a 子未 harm surfaces beneath the surface of kinship. Where the chart is balanced these stay minor; where the harm lands on a relied-upon point, they linger. The texture is hidden and intimate: a slow erosion among the nearest, not an open clash.