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Chapter 114: Another Really Bad Draw

"But since yesterday morning, my connection with Lord Shuilin has been severed. No matter how I call out, it doesn't respond!"

"I'm afraid I can't help you," the old man said, returning the divination sticks to He Lingchuan. "Besides, these two sticks are designated as 'sealed' sticks for a reason. Lord Shuilin often says that some heavenly secrets can only be observed, not spoken."

He Lingchuan shook the two sticks and asked, "The old turtle specially made two new sticks for me. Didn't it make any requests?"

"Lord Shuilin said to let nature take its course."

Everyone let out a long breath. He Yue patted his elder brother's shoulder and said, "Don't be disheartened. According to what Shuilin said, even though you drew the worst omen, it might not be truly bad."

"No, no, Lord Shuilin's divination is very accurate, right eight out of ten times." Old Man Liu, who used to interpret the omens, was overly honest. "The worst omens in this container are rare; only five have been drawn in the past ten years. However, they invariably predict great misfortune! Besides the two you hold, the first two people who drew them both died—one was beheaded by bandits, and the other drowned in a great flood. It is said they both suffered immensely before their deaths!"

The ancestral hall suddenly fell silent, like a graveyard.

"It gave me the worst omens, two at once, and then wouldn't interpret them!" He Lingchuan's eyes blazed. "What is the meaning of this?!"

He sneered at Old Man Liu, "Could it be that the old turtle isn't dead at all, just hiding somewhere making fun of us?"

Old Man Liu said dryly, "I don't know about that. I'm just a caretaker of the shrine, and I don't know what's happening in the lake."

He was a human, not a fish; how could he know what had truly happened to Shuilin?

"However, Lord Shuilin did say that those who draw the worst omens should be cautious, prepare for the worst, and perhaps there might still be a glimmer of hope."

He Lingchuan found it comical: "If it's so accurate, how could it not foresee its own ultimate fate?"

Someone outside interjected, "What ultimate fate?"

Everyone turned around to see He Chunhua approaching, followed by two guards.

He Yue asked in surprise, "Why are you out too? The outside is full of rumors and surrounded by vicious bandits; why is our whole family treating this like an outing?"

"This is the liveliest place in the entire east village. How could I not come and see?" He walked out and asked. The patrol guard had told him all his family members were there. "What happened?"

"Big brother drew two omens here, and they both turned out to be the worst," He Yue explained articulately in a few words. "None of the rest of us drew anything so unlucky. The interpreter said these were specifically left for Big Brother by Shuilin."

"The worst omens? Let me see."

He Chunhua took the two sticks and examined them, frowning deeply, but then burst into laughter. "You actually believe this?"

Old Man Liu immediately said, "My lord, you don't understand..."

He Chunhua waved his hand dismissively. "You're the one who doesn't understand. My son was raised under the guidance of the Great Shaman Zhaomandu. He long ago prophesied that Chuan'er would be blessed with both fortune and wealth, possess the ambition to soar, and become a great general of good luck. Your worst omen is completely mistaken, completely mistaken!"

He gazed at He Lingchuan. "Do you believe the Great Shaman Zhaomandu, or the words of a mountain demon?"

He Lingchuan always felt his father's gaze was exceptionally sharp.

"The Great Shaman." (He thought, "As if.")

"That's my good son!" He Chunhua patted his shoulder. "Besides, the Shuilin tablet is already broken. The turtle demon is dead; can its divinations still count?"

Upon hearing this, Madam Ying looked at the stick in her hand. "Ah, it's rare that I drew the best omen." So it doesn't count after all?

He Chunhua took her stick, looked at it, and smiled. "There's no need to draw an omen; I already know your fortune will be splendid."

"Oh, my lord!" Madam Ying blossomed into a smile. "Would you like to try drawing one too?"

The words slipped out naturally, and she immediately realized her gaffe.

He Chunhua wasn't angry but refused very firmly: "No! They don't count anyway."

Maotao then asked Old Man Liu, "By the way, you said five worst omens were drawn in total, and we know what happened to four of them. What about the fifth one?"

He Lingchuan had two himself, and the recipients of the other two had already died.

"That was a stranger who left the day after seeking an omen. I don't know what happened to him in the end." Old Man Liu scratched the back of his head. "Several months ago, two strangers came, an old man and a young one, saying they wanted to see the place where the High Ancestor began his uprising. The younger one even came to the Shuilin Shrine to seek an omen, but the older one said it was useless. His exact words were something like, 'Your fate is not determined by heaven.' But the next day, the young man secretly came back by himself and pushed many offerings into the lake. I told him Shuilin had already sealed the divinations, but he didn't believe me. After that, no matter how he shook it, no stick fell out of the divination bucket."

"The young man muttered to himself, 'So it really isn't determined by heaven,' and left disappointed. Who knew that after he left, just as I was about to put the divination bucket back up high, a red stick suddenly fell out? I just assumed he had drawn it."

He Lingchuan turned around and asked, "Where is that stick?" The old man had previously said that every worst omen drawn had to be taken out and kept separately.

"It's here, it's here." Old Man Liu went into the small, low room to the west, rummaging around.

Soon, he returned with a red stick.

Everyone looked at the stick, which bore a line of small characters:

"Vast stretches of yellow sand, grand ambitions unfulfilled, body perishing before..."

Maotao's eyes widened, and she voiced everyone's unspoken question: "What's the last character?"

What the hell, why was part of the stick burned off?

The last character was burned away.

Old Man Liu said sheepishly, "Oh dear, last time when I was burning firewood, it fell into the woodpile and almost burned up completely."

"Do you remember what character was burned off?"

"N-no, I don't remember," Old Man Liu said with a wry smile. "There are one or two hundred sticks here; how could I possibly remember all of them?"

He Lingchuan suddenly asked, "What was this young visitor's surname?"

"Uh, that..." Old Man Liu thought for a long time. "It's been several months. But his surname wasn't very common."

"Was it 'Nian'?"

"Ah, yes, yes, yes!" Old Man Liu suddenly recalled. "It was Nian! The 'Nian' from 'niangao' (rice cake)!"

Seeing her husband's displeased expression, Madam Ying quickly gave the old man a few copper coins. "Alright, that's enough for today. You should go back and rest."

He Lingchuan quietly walked out of the Shuilin Shrine and suddenly punched a small tree heavily.

"Crack!" The small tree snapped in response.

He Chunhua followed closely and earnestly told his eldest son, "Calm down! Chuan'er, sometimes things happen by coincidence, but they are just coincidences!"

He Lingchuan remained silent, his expression grim.

There was no doubt that Nian Songyu had drawn that worst omen. So that young man had been here too!

"Vast stretches of yellow sand" corresponded to the Panlong Desert.

"Grand ambitions unfulfilled"—indeed, the Nian family father and son certainly harbored rebellious ambitions.

As for the last three characters, He Lingchuan thought of the "heavenly deity" that had descended upon Nian Songyu; it seemed quite fitting.

It seemed, at least regarding this divination, the old turtle demon hadn't been wrong!

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