**Heroic Mountain, Firecloud Temple**
“Little Yao’er, your master’s time is almost up. Soon, I won’t be able to protect you anymore. You’ve always had a big appetite, and I’m afraid you might starve once you climb down the mountain.”
“I recall your Uncle Qingyun in the capital is doing fairly well. I’ve written this letter for you. When you find him, hand it to him. Out of our shared past, he’ll surely take care of you.”
In the backyard of the Taoist temple, inside a small side room, an elderly Taoist priest with a pale face was speaking earnestly to a little girl in front of him.
The old priest’s voice was weak, and he could only speak in short, broken sentences due to his frailty.
“No, Master! I don’t want you to die! I don’t want to!”
The little girl, nicknamed “Yao Yao,” had tears streaming down her face. She was wearing an oversized, patched-up gray Taoist robe. Despite their poverty—so severe she only had five meals a day, sometimes entirely vegetarian—this old priest was the only family she had ever known.
She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Ever since she could remember, she had been by his side.
As her round, chubby face began to collapse into sobs, large tears fell like beads of pearls.
“Yao’er, don’t cry. Life and death are part of the cycle of nature. As cultivators, we should understand this better than anyone.”
The old priest trembled as he reached out to wipe the little girl’s tears. His voice was gentler than ever, perhaps because he knew his time was running out.
From instructions on how to handle the temple to reminders for Yao’er to listen to her uncle once she found him, the priest left no detail unsaid. He even reminded her not to eat too much, as her large appetite might make others dislike her.
Yao’er nodded obediently, pretending to agree to comfort him, but her little face clouded over when she heard this part. She muttered under her breath, “Uncle probably isn’t doing that well in the capital if he can’t even afford five vegetarian meals.”
The priest couldn’t know her thoughts. As he lay facing the heavens, a hint of fear flickered in his eyes—fear of facing his ancestors in the afterlife.
The Firecloud sect had dwindled to almost nothing in his generation.
With his eldest brother traveling the world, and his own end approaching, only Yao’er remained.
He glanced at the small girl barely tall enough to reach the bed. Though her origins were unclear, her talent for Taoist arts was terrifyingly exceptional. Despite her young age, few ordinary cultivators could match her.
When he first found her, he had been overjoyed, thinking that the heavens had sent him a disciple with unparalleled potential to revive the sect.
But as he raised her, he realized her mischievous nature made her ill-suited for great responsibilities.
Perhaps it was his lingering obsession. Holding her tiny hand, the priest gave his final instruction:
“If you ever have the chance, remember to make the Firecloud sect flourish again. Should that day come, burn a paper offering for me so I can face our ancestors with pride.”
“I promise!”
Yao’er nodded firmly. Though she was too young to fully understand what “revive the sect” meant, she had heard her master repeat it so often that she roughly understood it to mean attracting many worshippers—and, in turn, more donations.
“Good, good!”
The old priest sighed in relief. With her promise, his obsession faded, and his vitality ebbed like a receding tide.
“Master!”
Yao’er called out softly, but this time, the priest didn’t reply with his usual warm smile.
Tears welled up in her big, round eyes and began to fall, one by one, like shining pearls.
—
**Two Days Later, Outside Firecloud Temple**
After burying her master, Yao’er was ready to leave the mountain.
She carried a small bundle filled with the dozen flatbreads her master had made before passing, along with a few basic utensils. The bundle bulged with its contents.
Before leaving, Yao’er kowtowed three times to the ancestral tablets inside the temple.
She didn’t close the temple gates because she had already taken all the valuables.
The path down the mountain was unfamiliar. She had always followed her master before, but this time, she had to navigate on her own. After several wrong turns, she finally found her way.
At last, she reached the foot of the mountain!
Looking at the bustling road, Yao’er’s chubby face lit up with a rare smile.
She had always heard visitors talk about how exciting life was down the mountain, and now, she could finally see it for herself. With no one to stop her, she was free to go anywhere.
But first, she needed to find Uncle Qingyun.
After all, her master’s flatbreads wouldn’t last more than a couple of days.
She pulled a talisman from her bag and began calculating his location using his birth chart.
This was a basic Taoist method for finding someone. Each person’s birth chart corresponded to celestial patterns, connecting their life line to their earthly existence.
Despite her age, Yao’er’s skill in Taoist arts was unmatched, which is why her master had entrusted her to make this journey alone.
She slapped the talisman onto herself and recited:
“May mountains flatten and lands shrink. By the decree of the Nine Lords, hasten to obey!”
A yellow glow enveloped her, and with a few quick steps, she crossed dozens of kilometers, arriving just outside the capital.
She stopped short of entering, wary of startling people with her sudden appearance. The talisman dimmed slightly after the journey, and she carefully put it away.
As she prepared to enter the city, a commotion erupted ahead.
“Help! There’s been an accident—please save my wife!”
A woman’s panicked voice cut through the noise, followed by the chaotic sounds of a crowd.
—
**An Accident?**
Yao’er’s expression shifted as she stepped forward. Her small size allowed her to easily weave through the crowd.
Soon, she reached the scene.
The accident had occurred at a busy intersection, a common site for crashes. This time, two cars—one black and one white—had collided at a blind corner, leaving both vehicles’ fronts badly damaged.
Near the white car, a well-dressed man with a bloodied head and a young woman were tending to an older woman in her forties.
The older woman looked pale and was cradling a visibly injured ankle, likely fractured.
Yao’er initially had no intention of getting involved.
She turned to leave but froze when her nose caught a delicious scent. She had a weakness for good food and couldn’t resist investigating further.
Her sharp eyes quickly locked onto the source: the injured older woman.
“Madam, don’t worry. The ambulance is on its way,” the young man reassured.
Gān Xiǎoyíng was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan.
She had been shouting for help for a long time, and while the crowd around them grew larger, not a single person stepped forward to help. This made her even more panicked.
If anything were to happen to her lady under her care, given the temperaments of the young masters and their father, she could kiss her life goodbye.
The woman, however, was gentle-natured. Despite her pain, she comforted Gān Xiǎoyíng, “Xiǎoyíng, don’t panic. Keep your composure and don’t lose your head.”
Before she could say another word, a small child walked over, holding a two-finger-wide tree branch.
“Little girl, what are you…”
The woman, bewildered, looked at the unusually vibrant and adorable little girl in front of her. The child crouched down and seriously examined her… leg?
Having a household full of sons, the woman especially adored little girls. Though unsure of what the child intended to do, her gaze remained soft.
But before she could finish her sentence, the little girl’s hands moved like lightning—so fast that she couldn’t even register what happened.
A sharp, intense pain surged through her leg, and she let out a muffled groan.
“Madam!” Gān Xiǎoyíng was horrified. She yelled, “Where did this wild child come from? Don’t you dare harm my lady!”
This little girl had actually dared to touch the woman’s injury. Gān Xiǎoyíng accused her of malicious intent and reached out to push the child away.
Unfortunately, she was too slow.
Yāoyāo raised her hand, lightly hitting Gān Xiǎoyíng’s arm. “Smack!” With an audible sound, Gān Xiǎoyíng couldn’t withstand the force from such a tiny hand and fell flat on her backside.
The male bodyguard, standing protectively nearby, immediately prepared to intervene.
However, the injured woman quickly intervened. “Xiao Zhao, stand down!”
“Yes, Madam.”
Though Bodyguard Zhao didn’t understand why, as a bodyguard, he had to follow his employer’s orders unconditionally.
The woman had stopped him not out of kindness but because she felt the sharp pain in her leg subside. Considering what had just happened, it wasn’t hard to deduce that her dislocated bone had been set back in place.
But how was that possible?
This little girl couldn’t be more than four years old. A child this young knowing how to set bones? No one would believe it!
Yet, the facts spoke for themselves.
The woman wanted to ask something, but Yāoyāo quickly finished securing her leg with the tree branch.
In her crisp, childish voice, she said, “I’ve set your bone for now, but don’t move around too much until a doctor looks at it.”
“Set my bone… just like that?”
Gān Xiǎoyíng, who had just gotten up, froze upon hearing this.
“Oh, thank you so much, little girl! I didn’t expect you to have such skill at such a young age.”
The woman responded more quickly, smiling warmly as she prepared to pull out some money to thank her.
But before she could do anything, Yāoyāo’s next words made her scalp tingle.
“I only helped set the bone. Nothing much. But don’t thank me just yet—your troubles aren’t over.”
“What… what do you mean?”
The woman looked at Yāoyāo in confusion.
Yāoyāo’s large, dark eyes were fixed on the thick shadow of yin energy shrouding the woman’s midsection.
So fragrant!
Yāoyāo unconsciously swallowed and then revealed two sharp little canine teeth as she spoke.
“Because you’re about to die!”
Her soft, milky voice delivered words that left the three adults present completely dumbfounded.
—
“You… you’re spouting nonsense! My lady is blessed and destined for a long life. There’s no way she’ll… she’ll…”
Gān Xiǎoyíng faltered, unable to utter the ominous word. She glared at the little girl like a hedgehog with its quills raised.
“Don’t think that just because you’re a child, I won’t dare to teach you a lesson!”
Yāoyāo ignored her and extended her chubby little hand, lightly touching the woman’s forehead.
Although it was just a soft, small hand, the woman felt a chill shoot straight to her crown.
“Your midsection is clouded, and your life star is obscured!”
“The bridge of your nose bears a line—calamity has entered your health palace.”
This tiny girl was babbling strange words like some kind of mystic.
The woman, lost in her explanation, asked hesitantly, “Is there any significance to what you’re saying?”
Yāoyāo didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her small finger shifted, touching the bridge of the woman’s nose.
“The bridge of your nose represents strength, yet it’s marred by a break. Foul energy has drawn in misfortune. My master used to say, ‘Where there’s life, there’s luck; where there’s death, there’s foul energy.’”
“You carry the foul energy of death. That’s why I said you’re going to die.”
Yāoyāo tilted her little head, her tone sincere and serious. “But your spouse’s palace is intact, and your children’s palace is full—your fate is one of blessings and fortune.”
“Darkness has overwhelmed light, which points to… possession by an evil spirit!”
People’s destinies are typically set at birth and rarely undergo significant changes unless a major calamity occurs.
One of Daoism’s five arts—Appearance—is about determining a person’s fate through their facial features, predicting fortune or disaster.
An unofficial saying in the field is, “Disasters never come singly.”
This means that when misfortune strikes, it often comes in waves. Individuals marked by ill fortune bring trouble not only to themselves but also to their spouses and children.
But this woman was different—her fortune didn’t match that of someone plagued by misfortune.
Adding the intense yin energy around her brows, Yāoyāo concluded it must be the work of a vengeful spirit!
And vengeful spirits are delicious!
Yāoyāo had initially been uninterested, but the prospect of this delicacy changed her mind.
“You’re spouting nonsense! I’ve seen plenty of frauds, but you’re the youngest con artist yet!”
Gān Xiǎoyíng, frustrated by the little girl’s cryptic chatter, was skeptical. Her words reminded her of shady fortune tellers claiming someone’s life was in grave danger.
Still, the woman hesitated. Despite her doubts, she couldn’t ignore how this child had set her dislocated joint. This wasn’t something just anyone could do.
Seeing the woman’s hesitation, Yāoyāo pulled a yellow talisman from her bag. With her chubby hands, she folded it into a triangle and placed it in the woman’s hand.
“My master said that every meeting is fate. Take this talisman as my gift—it’ll protect you from one disaster.”
“The talisman only works once. When it’s used, come find me, okay?”
“I’ll be at… hmm… I’ll be at the overpass up ahead.”
The overpass was the endpoint of her fate line, where she believed her uncle-master Qīngyún would be.
Vengeful spirits are rare delicacies, so Yāoyāo took her instructions very seriously.
“An overpass?”
Was this really a scam?
The woman tightened her grip on the talisman, inexplicably feeling that it might actually save her life.
As for Yāoyāo’s claim of fate, the woman didn’t believe it. What she noticed instead was the way the little girl’s eyes sparkled as she looked at her—like a predator eyeing prey—and how she kept swallowing her saliva!
Though the girl tried to hide it, her childish face betrayed her true thoughts.
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