Chapter 7: Fortune-Stealing — Happy Birthday~

Li Jiayuan pushed herself up on her hands, rubbed her eyes, and looked around for someone familiar.

Liu Yingying rushed over to take her hand, expression tense: “Yuanyuan, how do you feel?”

Li Jiayuan said: “Hungry.”

Liu Yingying froze. Her face hazy and dazed, she grabbed the hem of whoever was beside her—not knowing whose—and said, voice trembling with feeling: “Do you know? Yuanyuan’s been with me for over two years, and this is the first time I’ve ever heard her say she’s hungry.”

She must have been too happy inside.

Lu You glanced down at his grabbed hem and echoed: “Truly good news.”

“The best news there is!” Liu Yingying dabbed her eyes: “Almost as good as when I was one step from getting into my doctorate!”

She left Yuanyuan at the shop and ran out to buy food. Qin Shuheng called after her from behind: “There’s a food shop right on this street—don’t go far!”

With the only familiar person gone, Li Jiayuan’s head drooped again, her face still that blank, dull expression, hardly talking.

Lu You grabbed a handful of the chocolate kept specially for offerings to the Huang Family Immortals, tore one piece open, and popped it into her mouth.

Li Jiayuan’s mouth moved; she crunched it and swallowed.

Lu You stuffed the rest into her coat pocket and asked gently: “What’s your name?”

Li Jiayuan’s eyes were like glass beads coated in dust, misty and blank; she ignored him.

Lu You asked again: “What’s your name?”

The black pupils finally stirred. Li Jiayuan’s moist red lips wriggled twice, and in a very small voice she said: “Yuanyuan.”

Lu You’s voice went soft: “Yuanyuan, how old are you this year?”

Li Jiayuan’s head seemed terribly heavy. She hung it low, her neck bending downward in a terrifying arc. The little girl still sat on the table, legs stretched straight, hands resting on her knees. As if to answer Lu You’s question, she bent her neck until her face pressed within five centimeters of her hands, and began counting on her fingers.

“One. Two. Three… ten. Eleven.” Li Jiayuan straightened up: “Eleven years old. Next month, twelve.”

Nearly twelve already, yet she looked like a child of six or seven who hadn’t yet had her growth spurt.

Lu You frowned: “Yuanyuan, when is your birthday?”

Li Jiayuan was silent a while before shaking her head: “Don’t know.”

Yang Yun sauntered over to the Altar Offering Table and made off with an apple—she’d deliberately picked the reddest one—rubbed it on her clothes and took a bite: “Lord Lu You, what do we do about the other little girl?”

Huang Kuaipao was standing on the Altar Offering Table, long used to her rob-first-ask-never ways. He only beckoned toward her shoulder and called out: “Cuihua.”

Huang Cuihua was the Scout Messenger Spirit Yang Yun’s Altar Hall had assigned her.

A small yellow fluffy head poked out, nimbly hopping to Huang Kuaipao’s side in a few leaps. The two Little Huangs happily chased each other in circles a few rounds, and Huang Kuaipao dug in his pocket, pulled out a drumstick, and handed it over: “For you!”

Huang Cuihua, her little dark face a mirror of his, was delighted: “Thank you!”

The two weasels were old playmates—cultivating on the same mountain back in the day, childhood sweethearts, innocent companions. Later they came down the mountain to catch disciples: one caught Lu You, one caught Yang Yun, and they’d been apart only a few years. Who’d have thought their two disciples would end up knowing each other, letting the two of them play together again.

As for the two disciples down here, Lu You was also mulling over Liu Yingying. He said: “It may not be easy.”

“Drop the ‘may,'” said Yang Yun. She polished off the apple in a few bites and was hunting for a trash bin when she turned and saw Yang Shengnan still smoking at the door, a carpet of cigarette butts already piled at her feet. She exploded instantly: “Yang Shengnan! Have you lost your mind! Smoking this much—do you plan on living tomorrow or not?”

Yang Shengnan’s cigarette hand jolted; she took another drag before stubbing it out, grinning back: “Done, done. Last one.”

Yang Yun had a fierce temper. She turned back to Lu You: “And you gave her a whole new pack?”

Lu You took the stray hit, innocent: “…Won’t happen again.”

“Don’t be so angry, girl. Getting angry wrinkles your face.” Yang Shengnan stepped inside and voluntarily handed the remaining half pack back to Lu You: “I didn’t smoke for nothing, you know. Just now I took a look at that young lady too.”

He Zhuchun asked: “Liu Yingying?”

“Right, her.” Yang Shengnan said: “The thing on that girl is no simple matter. Doesn’t look like an ordinary Yin Entity.”

Lu You thought for a moment, then retold the matter of Liu Yingying serving as the incense medium for the Soul Swap—the thing he and He Zhuchun had discussed at the apartment building entrance.

Qin Shuheng had brewed two pots of tea and set them on the table, and happened to catch an earful. He suddenly cut in:

“Speaking of Liu Yingying—haven’t you noticed something’s wrong with her Fate Chart?”

Yang Shengnan: “Shuheng has a theory?”

Qin Shuheng scratched his head: “When Master went to fetch you all just now, it was only me, Yuanyuan, and Liu Yingying in the shop. She was bored and asked me to read her Eight Characters of Birth.”

Lu You asked: “And you read it?”

Qin Shuheng nodded: “I did. But it was all wrong… or rather, aside from the past events, everything else came out wrong.”

Lu You’s eyes changed.

Qin Shuheng’s own Fate Chart was special—Partial Seal extraordinarily strong, a chart of great talent in Metaphysics, never mind the unclaimed spirit-affinity he carried, or how early his eye apertures had opened. Though the shop mostly used Eight Characters of Birth and Zi Wei Dou Shu arts to divine matters now, his results were rarely wrong—even in poor condition he was nine for ten. How could he be wrong to this degree?

Yang Yun’s interest was piqued too: “Tell us in detail.”

Qin Shuheng glanced at Yang Yun, cheeks inexplicably flushing. He adjusted his sitting posture: “Reading her current Eight Characters of Birth, on academics alone her Seal Star is strong and transparent in the stems, meaning exceptional memory and comprehension. Especially with Officer and Seal Mutually Generative—a sign of thriving in academic systems and higher education, guaranteed to win teachers’ favor and the system’s nurturing.”

Yang Yun asked: “And the result?”

“The result is, she says she’s achieved nothing in her studies, her head’s foggy all day, and she can only cozy up to the professor for scraps of guidance, hoping he’ll grade her leniently. She even complained that despite all she’s done, the professor still treats her lukewarm.” Qin Shuheng’s tone was indignant:

“Then I read her future. This person’s Day Master is robust, seated on a Fortune God, with the Officer Star full of qi—Prosperity and Carriage in Same Palace. Look, look! With a chart that good, how could she have no money and no talent? But she tells me she just wants to keep studying, and if she can’t manage that she’ll find any old job, enough to get by—won’t even dare think of anything else.”

He Zhuchun asked: “That’s just what she thinks. It doesn’t mean the future definitely won’t happen, right?”

“If she doesn’t even dare think it, how could the future possibly happen!” It was the first time anyone had doubted his divination, and Qin Shuheng was furious: “You’re a layman, you wouldn’t get it—a person’s thoughts carry energy.”

“Taken to the extreme, we could even regard a person as a lump of energy. Every movement, every action, every thought carries energy within it. Whatever a person believes in gains the power of vows. Whatever a person thinks about is what gets drawn to them. That’s why there’s a term: the Ominous Prophecy.”

“I’ve heard of that.” He Zhuchun nodded: “Speak of something and it comes, right?”

Qin Shuheng: “Exactly! So with her lack of drive, her future is guaranteed to amount to nothing!”

“I don’t think you can blame her.” Yang Yun had wandered back to the Altar Offering Table and plucked a small bunch of grapes to hold in her hand.

Qin Shuheng instantly wiped the indignation off his face and asked earnestly: “How so, Sister Yang Yun?”

Lu You, long used to watching his face-flips, drank his tea undisturbed.

Yang Yun said: “This girl didn’t become negative-minded on her own. The main cause of how things stand now is that someone stole her fortune.”

Qin Shuheng was thunderstruck: “What?!”

Yang Yun waved a hand: “Don’t believe me? Ask your Master.”

Qin Shuheng turned to Lu You.

Lu You said flatly: “Not just her. I’d guess every student under that professor has had fortune stolen.”

Now it was He Zhuchun’s face that filled with shock and doubt.

Lu You turned the question back on him: “Remember what you told me before Liu Yingying arrived?”

He Zhuchun glanced at the door—Liu Yingying still hadn’t returned. He nodded.

Lu You: “You said plenty of students wanted to join your professor’s cohort for the exam, more with better scores and prettier résumés than you two—yet he chose you two, and you couldn’t figure out why.”

He Zhuchun’s mind worked fast: “The way you put it, I can figure it out—because of fortune.”

“Not only fortune, but Fate Chart too.” Lu You toyed with his teacup: “Later, on the back of the scooter, you also told me those senior martial brothers and sisters of yours—some dead by now, the rest down and out. Grad school graduates, under a professor famous throughout academia—how did they end up like that?”

He Zhuchun’s face immediately turned ugly.

Yang Yun looked at Lu You, then at He Zhuchun, then back at Lu You, and said: “But your friend here—his Fate Chart seems untouched, hmm?”

He Zhuchun looked at her: “Really?”

“Of course.” Yang Yun idly plucked a grape and popped it into her mouth, mumbling: “But I don’t think it was your professor being kind and letting you off. Everyone’s been hit, and only you came out clean. In a situation like this there are only two possibilities.”

Qin Shuheng: “Sister Yang Yun, why do you talk just like my Master, always summing things up in twos and threes?”

Yang Yun: “It’s clearer that way, you know. As you’re aware, in our line, explaining Metaphysics basics to Patron Clients is a required skill. Communication skills? Top notch.”

He Zhuchun pressed: “Which two?”

“So impatient,” Yang Yun said. “First: you’ve got something on you that keeps him from touching you.”

She spat the grape skin out into a tissue and continued: “Second: he’s keeping you around for some other purpose. Not that he won’t touch you—he just hasn’t reached the moment yet.”

A gust of cold wind carrying the smell of hot food slipped in through the door seam. The glass door was pushed open from outside, and Liu Yingying came in laden with bags, carrying meals enough for several people. Seeing everyone’s eyes on her as she entered, she gave an embarrassed smile:

“It’s so late and no one’s eaten yet, so I walked a bit farther and bought food for everyone. I didn’t know what you’d like, so I just bought a bit of everything—please don’t mind.”

Her hands were full of everything: hot congee, noodle soup, fried rice, and several baskets of steamed buns, meat and vegetarian all covered. She must have made a circuit of every nearby shop.

The people inside made room for her; the ones nearby took the bags from her hands. Qin Shuheng, quick-eyed and quick-handed, gathered up the small quilt on the table and carried it up to the second floor, and by the time he came back down the food was already laid out on the table.

Yang Yun nibbled a steamed bun as she sidled over, secretly poking Lu You.

She asked: “Will you help?”

Lu You said: “I’ll help.”

Yang Yun said: “I’ll help too.” She thought for a moment, then added as if to clarify: “Even if you didn’t help, I’d still help.”

“We’ve eaten her food—there’s no principle of not helping.”

Lu You only said: “Mm.”

Yang Yun laughed and slipped away.

Liu Yingying sat beside Li Jiayuan, spooning hot congee into the little girl’s mouth one spoonful at a time. All unknowing that her Fate Chart had, in a few exchanged sentences, already been claimed for recovery by two great masters in league.

The payment: today’s meal.

Tonight the moon was exceptionally bright, and the stars were many. Yang Yun stretched as she went out the door, waving at them with her back turned: “No need to see me off, no need! Everyone go on back!”

Qin Shuheng pressed his face to the car window: “Sister Yang Yun, drive carefully! It’s dark—be safe!”

He Zhuchun also called a ride-hailing car back to campus. He and Lu You stood beneath the shop’s LED display, positioned exactly under the only lit character on the screen: “Matters.”

When the ride-hailing car was still over a hundred meters out, he smiled: “Great Immortal, see you tomorrow.”

Lu You was taken aback—he hadn’t expected this man, exorcised, to wade right back into these muddy waters. He pulled out a smile too: “See you tomorrow.”

Yang Yun’s car had already driven off, and the ride-hailing car’s headlights shone in from far away. He Zhuchun first helped Liu Yingying carry the sleeping Li Jiayuan inside, waited until Liu Yingying had climbed into the back seat, and only then opened the front passenger door for himself.

He waved, and suddenly said: “Lu You, happy birthday!”

Lu You stood beneath the light, his long lashes casting a layer of shadow, his expression faint, his presence faint, yet you could see he was smiling, a pair of peach-blossom eyes glinting with light.

“Thank you. And happy birthday to you as well.”

“See you around.”

Bang—

The passenger door shut, and the car sped away.

Lu You drew a deep breath and, toward the far end of the road, said softly in return:

“See you around.”