Chapter 93 - 92: You...

Chapter 93: Chapter 92: You...

The first card depicted a great tree with deep roots spreading beneath its branches.

The second showed a river flowing between green hills, and the third portrayed a white flower blooming beneath an open sky.

The old woman studied them quietly before nodding.

"Deep roots, a clear river, and a flower beneath the heavens."

"These are fortunate signs. Your life will be long, and though you will encounter difficulties along the way, your foundations will remain firm."

"You possess the strength to overcome adversity, and your beauty will bring you admiration throughout your life."

She paused, her wrinkled fingers resting upon the edge of the table.

"Your path may not always be peaceful, but it is a good fate, Your Highness. One that many would envy."

Zhao Linger leaned forward to inspect the cards. "That sounds pretty good to me."

"It does," Zhao Xinya agreed, withdrawing her hand.

She rose from the stool and gestured toward her younger sister. "There. Your turn."

Zhao Linger immediately took her place.

"Now, what about me?"

The old woman held out her hand.

"Your palm, young lady."

Zhao Linger placed her hand in the woman’s grasp.

The old woman’s fingers were cold against her skin, but Zhao Linger thought little of it as she watched the woman examine her palm beneath the flickering lamplight.

The old woman traced the lines carefully, then reached for the cards.

She selected three and arranged them in a row.

The first card depicted a winding road disappearing into a distant fog.

The second showed a pale moon hanging above a dark sea.

The third was entirely black, save for a thin white line running across its center.

The old woman turned over the first card, and her expression remained unchanged.

She turned over the second.

The hand holding Zhao Linger’s palm suddenly went still.

Then came the third, and almost immediately, the old woman froze.

Her cloudy eyes stared at the black card, and the faint smile that had rested upon her face throughout the previous reading gradually disappeared.

Zhao Linger tilted her head.

"Grandma?"

The old woman did not answer. Instead, she turned Zhao Linger’s palm toward the light and examined it, moving her fingers along the lines again.

Her breathing grew shallow, and the skin around her eyes tightened. Clearly, she was struggling to understand something that contradicted everything she had ever known.

"You..."

The word escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

Zhao Linger blinked. "Me?"

The old woman lifted her gaze, and Zhao Linger saw genuine fear in her eyes.

"You are..."

Her voice faltered.

At that moment, Zhao Linger felt a strange sensation spread from the palm the old woman held.

The plaza around her faded.

The laughter of children, the calls of merchants, and the music of the performers all disappeared at once, leaving behind a silence so complete that she could hear the faint sound of her own breathing.

Then she saw it.

An ocean of blood stretched beneath a sky without stars. Its surface rolled in slow, heavy waves, carrying broken weapons and countless indistinct shapes toward a horizon she could not see.

Far away, the silhouettes of mountains stood shattered against the darkness, their peaks reduced to jagged ruins.

Something pale emerged from the blood.

A hand.

It was enormous, its skin ashen and bloodless, with fingers reaching desperately toward the empty sky.

The hand trembled as though it were trying to grasp something beyond its reach, and beneath it, the ocean continued to churn around a body that remained hidden below.

For one terrible instant, Zhao Linger felt that the hand was reaching for her. Then, somewhere beyond the blood-soaked horizon, a pair of eyes opened.

She could not see what they belonged to.

The vision vanished.

The sounds of the plaza returned all at once, and Zhao Linger found herself sitting before the old woman, her fingers curled around the woman’s hand.

She drew in a sharp breath, staring at the cards in fear.

Her heart was beating unusually fast.

"What was that?" she whispered.

The old woman looked even worse than before.

Her wrinkled fingers had begun to tremble around Zhao Linger’s hand, and a thin sheen of sweat had appeared along her forehead.

"You..." she murmured again.

"You are something..."

She swallowed, glancing at the cards before returning her gaze to Zhao Linger.

"No. That cannot be..."

"W-what?"

Zhao Linger panicked, her pupils trembling. The old woman’s grip tightened around her hand, but then she seemed to realize what she was doing and immediately loosened it.

"It’s as if you’re standing at the center of something enormous," she whispered. "Something that will..."

She stopped.

Her breathing ceased, and her lips moved soundlessly, as though she were trying to force the remaining words out. But whatever she had glimpsed seemed to have left her too frightened to speak.

Zhao Linger felt a chill travel down her back.

Before Zhao Linger could ask another question, Zhao Xinya stepped forward and took her younger sister by the wrist.

"That’s enough. We’re leaving."

"But, Sister—"

"Now, Linger."

Zhao Xinya pulled her away from the table, her expression firm. She turned toward the old woman, her earlier amusement replaced by displeasure.

"Whatever tricks you use to frighten people, keep them to yourself. My sister has no reason to be disturbed by your nonsense."

The old woman did not protest.

She remained seated behind her table, her gaze fixed on Zhao Linger as the princess was led away.

The cards lay scattered before her, and the oil lamp flickered in the breeze, casting shifting shadows across her deeply wrinkled face.

Zhao Linger allowed her sister to pull her into the crowd, but she could not stop herself from looking back.

The old woman was still staring at her.

Her hands rested motionlessly on the table, her face pale and her lips pressed tightly together.

Zhao Linger’s steps slowed, and she thought she saw the old woman’s fingers curl against the cloth, as though she were trying to keep them from trembling.

Then a passing pedestrian obscured the stall, and Zhao Linger could no longer see her.

"Stop looking back," Zhao Xinya said. "You shouldn’t believe everything a stranger tells you, especially someone who makes a living from fortune-telling."

Zhao Linger turned forward, forcing a small smile.

"Of course, Sister."

She tried to convince herself that the vision had been nothing more than an elaborate trick, perhaps some unusual method of inducing hallucinations.

She had heard stories of cultivators who could manipulate the senses, after all, and there was no reason to assume that an old woman with a deck of cards possessed any genuine knowledge of fate.

Zhao Linger tightened her fingers around the little pouch hanging from her sash and continued walking beside her sister, smiling whenever Zhao Xinya glanced at her.

She did not mention what she had seen. Somehow, she suspected that her sister would only laugh at her.

Zhao Lianyu and the guard said nothing, but they had certainly been paying close attention to the old woman from the start.

As they continued walking, Zhao Xinya led the group through the crowd, occasionally glancing back to ensure Zhao Linger was keeping up.

At first, she assumed her little sister was simply distracted by the fortune-teller’s strange words, but after some time, she began to notice that Zhao Linger’s expression was amiss.

Had she grown unusually quiet?

The girl who had spent the entire time stopping at every interesting stall now walked beside her without so much as glancing at the surrounding shops.

Her fingers occasionally brushed against the bracelet on her wrist.

Although she still wore a small smile whenever Zhao Xinya looked at her, the expression never quite reached her eyes.

Zhao Xinya slowed her pace and took Zhao Linger’s right hand.

"Linger, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing..."

"Then why do you look as though someone stole all your sweets?"

Zhao Xinya teased her, and Zhao Linger blinked before letting out a small laugh.

"I don’t..."

"You do." Zhao Xinya pulled her close. "And you haven’t complained about anything for several minutes. Should I be worried?"

"That’s because I’m tired of hearing you complain about my complaining..."

Zhao Linger smiled as she looked toward the stone pavement beneath them, her toes curling.

"Oh? So you still have enough energy to argue with me..."

Zhao Xinya gave her sister’s forehead a light tap with one finger, careful to avoid the small bump. Zhao Linger covered it with both hands and shot her an aggrieved look.

"Why do you keep hitting my head today?"

"Because my little sister is so cute that I can’t help wanting to pinch her puffy cheeks..."

"Don’t!"

Zhao Linger puffed her cheeks in return, and her familiar expression returned. Zhao Xinya watched her closely, hoping the little exchange had distracted her from whatever was troubling her.

She noticed that the girl still looked pale, and even now, there was a lingering uneasiness in her eyes that she could not hide.

Zhao Xinya considered asking again, but in the end, she decided against it.

She turned her gaze and noticed a small crowd gathered near the far side of the plaza.

A wooden stage had been set up beneath a row of lanterns, and behind its painted screen, the silhouettes of several puppets moved to the accompaniment of lively music.

At the same time, a high-pitched voice rang out from behind the stage, followed by the laughter of children gathered near the front.

Zhao Xinya paused, then turned toward Zhao Linger with a smile appearing on her face.

"Linger, look over there."

Zhao Linger followed her finger.

"A puppet show..."

"Yes. Do you remember how much you loved these when we were little?"

The question caught her off guard as memories surfaced from a time when they had been much younger.

Back then, Zhao Xinya and her brothers would take her by the hand and lead her through the streets during their rare outings.

They had watched puppet shows together more times than she could remember.

They had always followed the same theme: demons versus humans.

She had even cried when one of the performances ended with the hero sacrificing himself, and her siblings had teased her about it for weeks.

"I remember..." Zhao Linger replied, her voice a little softer.