After chatting with Meng Fan until 11 PM, I finally ended the voice call when my friend started slurring his words like a sleep-deprived hound. The adjacent room where Ling Xi rested remained silent - she seemed to have drifted into dreamland hours ago. Moving with the caution of a midnight thief, I completed my bedtime rituals in the bathroom before burrowing under the quilt.
But peace eluded me that night. Visions of blood-drenched grandfather and a grotesque boar-headed demon clutching my throat with cloven hooves tormented my sleep.
By 6 AM, I awoke drenched in cold sweat, my limbs stiff as winter river ice. Though normally blessed with sound sleep, these past days of spiritual affliction had left me as haggard as Meng Fan with his perpetual exhaustion.
Abandoning further rest, I dressed and descended to the kitchen. Among Ling Xi's provisions I found frozen dumplings and tangyuan - those sweet glutinous rice balls that symbolize family reunion. Though initially planning simple fare for myself, I reconsidered. After all, shouldn't the celestial master who sheltered me awaken to proper breakfast?
I prepared a modest breakfast spread with earnest care—simmering a pot of rice porridge, stir-frying two portions of pickled vegetables, steaming a dozen frozen pork dumplings, and frying two eggs. After finishing, I headed upstairs to brush my teeth and wash my face.
At 7:10 AM, the sound of Ling Xi freshening up drifted from downstairs. I called out "Master" and brought the meal to the tea table in the living room.
Ling Xi paused, her surprise evident. "Did you make all this?"
"Yep," I replied casually. "This is how we eat at home. Hope it suits your taste."
After completing her morning routine and applying light makeup, Ling Xi settled at the table with an intrigued smile. "This looks surprisingly decent."
"Want to try?" I handed her chopsticks.
"Mmm, still hot," she remarked, sipping daintily at the porridge and blowing softly. The sight sent ripples through my chest, gentle as lapping waves. A stunning woman was captivating enough, but Ling Xi's beauty transcended mere perfection.
"Why are you staring?" she asked, her luminous eyes flickering up.
I flushed crimson and buried my face in my bowl.
By breakfast's end, Tie Shan, our designated driver, arrived in the Mercedes business van.
"Take me to the Chen family headquarters," Ling Xi instructed, sliding into the passenger seat.
"Su Ning, you're heading to South Street."
"Wait—" I jolted upright in the backseat, bewildered. "Master, how did you know where I'm going today?"
For a heartbeat, I wondered if she'd eavesdropped on last night's call with Meng Fan. How else could she possibly—
Ling Xi cut me a sidelong glance, her tone crisp as autumn frost. "I don't snoop through others' privacy."
"Ah, no, I didn't mean—" Heat flooded my cheeks. "Of course nothing escapes your divine insight, Master."
A ghost of amusement curled her lips. "At breakfast, I noticed golden qi swirling in your Fate Palace—an auspicious sign of meeting friends. You sat facing west, yet your left foot pointed southward."
"In our craft," she continued, fastening her seatbelt, "the left foot marks departure, the right signifies return. Your path today lies south—hence South Street district."
"You're getting a new phone card," she added as Tie Shan started the engine. "But your Wealth Palace shows two financial outflows. Let me guess—you'll be footing the bill for lunch."
"Holy—" My jaw dropped.
Through the rearview mirror, Tie Shan's shoulders shook with silent laughter.
"Master, you…" I raised my thumb in awe. "You're sharper than the gods themselves."My words held no flattery—only raw astonishment.
Back in my village, our local fortune-teller mumbled incantations and burned incense for her. "spirit guides," demanding birth charts and home addresses before uttering a prediction. Yet Ling Xi had unraveled my entire day's agenda through facial readings alone, shattering everything I knew about divination.
"Face-reading is mere parlor tricks," Ling Xi demurred, shaking her headHardly godlike. Besides," she added, smoothing her sleeves, "if I couldn't master such basics, how could I bear the title of Celestial Spirit Master?"
Curiosity overrode my caution. "Master, what exactly is a Celestial Spirit Master? Isn't that just a fancy term for fortune-teller?"
Ling Xi massaged her temples as if explaining to a child. "Fortune-tellers predict futures. Celestial Spirit Masters…" Her voice took on ritualistic cadence, "We harmonize Feng Shui energies, purge malevolent forces, and rewrite destinies etched in the stars."
Seeing my bewilderment, she continued: "Spirit Masters have four ranks—Yellow Spirit Masters (Huanglingshi), Earth Spirit Masters (Dilingshi), Mystic Spirit Masters (Xuanlingshi), and Celestial Spirit Masters (Tianlingshi). The higher the tier, the deeper our mastery of cosmic laws."
"Take me as an example," Ling Xi declared, her voice carrying the weight of celestial authority.
"There are fewer than ten Celestial Spirit Masters (Tianlingshi) across the entire Chinese realm." A breeze tousled her raven hair as she added with quiet intensity, "And you'll find no second person in this land who when attained Tianlingshi status she mentioned at my age."
A hint of pride softened her jade-carved features Su Tongyuan. "You thought my sister paying a million yuan to bring me here was highway robbery?" She snorted delicately, arranging her silk sleeves. "That was friendship pricing. Had it been anyone else, three million yuan wouldn't have stirred me from my tea ceremonies."
Though I barely grasped the intricacies of spirit mastery, I understood this much: the apex of any craft belongs to heaven's chosen. How many practitioners competed in this ancient art across China's vast expanse? That Ling Xi ranked among those ten celestial-tier masters—and achieved it in her twenties—marked her as something beyond prodigious.
My throat tightened with conflicting emotions. Gratitude, that this living legend had descended to my rural village, saving me from certain death. Resentment, that her intervention stemmed not from destiny, but from the sister who'd forgotten me—the sister who, at ten years old, should have remembered her seven-year-old brother as clearly as I remembered her.
"I couldn't make sense of it, nor did I care to try. The more I dwelled, the more bitterness festered in my chest. Money solves many problems—her surreptitiously sending funds to my father might've been meant as penance for years of neglect. But some things currency can't purchase. Like family bonds."
The van hummed onward in heavy silence until Ling Xi, sensing my darkening mood, ventured softly: "I've known Su Tongyuan for years. No one matters to her more than you."
"At the very least," she added, "I've never seen her weep for anyone else."
I retorted coldly, "There's a term for that—crocodile tears."
Ling Xi scoffed, "Would someone stage crocodile tears at the cost of ten million yuan? Su Ning, do you truly think yourself worth that price?"
"What are you implying?" I demanded.