Fellow Daoist! That scoundrel has written a new book again.

The group fell silent, exchanging glances without saying a word.

Ye Xiaozhou tossed a coin first and said, "I can't do it. Apart from matters concerning myself, I can only use coins to judge things."

The group then turned their gaze to Zhang Zhihan, but before he could say anything, they all looked away and turned to Shen Anzhi.

Shen Anzhi coughed twice, silently wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and demonstrated with his actions that he was incapable.

He then took out a stack of playing cards, a calligraphy brush, and paper, and handed them to Zhu Wuyao without saying a word.

He was still at the inn, carrying these things with him. The situation was urgent, and he forgot to put them down when he got home. Now they just happen to come in handy.

Zhu Wuyao was taken aback for a moment, then asked with his eyes: Are you serious?

Zhang Zhihan nodded and asked in return, "Or should I do it?"

Zhu Wuyao firmly accepted the paper and pen.

She knew that the old woman just wanted some comfort and to ease her son's sadness.

Even so, she carefully laid out the cards, not skipping a single step.

This is the first time Zhu Wuyao has been so devout and nervous since he started setting up his stall.

She feared she wouldn't draw a good card, and wouldn't be able to predict a good afterlife.

They flipped over the three cards one by one.

Zhu Wuyao fell silent. She didn't look at Shen Anzhi, nor did she ask whether the divination was accurate.

Those who commit evil deeds will encounter hardship today, and in the next life... they will suffer and endure torment.

She gripped the calligraphy brush tightly, looking at the ink Shen Anzhi offered, but instead of dipping her brush in it, she recalled the prophecy—

Shen Anzhi once said that the opportunity for her to draw qi into her body came from a fortune-telling matter.

And now... the perfect combination of timing, location, and people has been achieved.

Zhu Wuyao even had a premonition that as long as he wrote down the divination truthfully, he could overcome that obstacle.

That path is the insurmountable chasm between mortals and immortals.

If she successfully draws qi into her body, she will have a greater chance of entering the Star-Picking Tower and embarking on the path of cultivation.

But she didn't put pen to paper.

She heard the old woman's words of advice to her son, urging him to wear more clothes in the cold and not to be upset. She heard the innkeeper's voice, trembling with tears, as he repeated these words over and over again—

"Mom, I know."

Zhu Wuyao suddenly felt relieved.

That's it.

She refused to believe that her fate was in her own hands, not in the heavens, and that if she missed this opportunity, she would never be able to draw qi into her body again.

The path of cultivating immortality is inherently defying the heavens. If one can only accept one's fate, what is the point of cultivating this path?

If even the timing of drawing qi into the body is entirely at the mercy of fate, then what's the point?

Having figured this out, she picked up her pen and wrote down the divination text.

"Rain falls from the branches today, and the beautiful flowers bloom again in spring."

Just as he put down his pen, several people gathered around, and even the innkeeper looked over.

Upon seeing the fortune slip, Zhang Zhihan nodded, seemingly in agreement. Ye Xiaozhou, however, tossed a coin aside, scoffed, and said nothing.

Zhu Wuyao slowly let out a sigh of relief.

My body was completely calm, without any changes, and I didn't sense any spiritual energy from heaven and earth.

As expected... lying doesn't work.

Although there are some regrets, I have no regrets about writing this.

Thinking this, she picked up the document and was about to turn around and show it to the old woman when she suddenly heard a mournful cry:

"mother--!"

Zhang Zhihan had already sensed it, but before he could stop it, the old woman's right hand transformed back into a ghostly claw, piercing through his chest.

She closed her eyes with a smile.

The right hand returned to normal.

It is the hand of a loving mother who threads a needle for her child, the hand that lightly painted her eyebrows and adorned herself in her youth, the hand that shook a rattle drum in her childhood—the hand that belongs to humankind.

Zhu Wuyao slowly turned around, looking at the blood gushing from the old woman's chest, somewhat at a loss.

Her fingers slowly tightened until the divination text was crumpled beyond recognition and her fingertips pinched her palm painfully, before she belatedly released her grip.

That "blessing" seemed to have nowhere to land, drifting to the ground and being forgotten by everyone.

Hearing the innkeeper's mournful cries, the four of them didn't know what to say, so they could only leave in silence, giving the two of them some space.

After leaving the inn.

Zhu Wuyao looked back and saw that the "Longevity Inn" signboard was still hanging in the same place.

"Longevity Inn..."

Hearing this soft sigh, Zhang Zhihan felt a pang of emotion and said:

"To become a ghost, one must have suffered greatly in life and have a strong obsession in order for the soul to remain in the body like a living person. It is extremely rare for someone to remain conscious for so many years."

I wonder what this old woman went through to become this inhuman, ghost-like state.

If he were harmed by villains, Zhang Zhihan swore that he would make them pay with their blood!

Ye Xiaozhou ignored him, walked over to Zhu Wuyao, and asked curiously:

"What should the signed statement have looked like?"

Upon hearing this, Shen Anzhi looked up, somewhat puzzled:

"Miss Zhu, did you not write down the true message?"

Zhu Wuyao nodded and truthfully recounted the momentary opportunity and feelings he had just experienced. Shen Anzhi listened with a mixture of emotion and helplessness.

He couldn't say whether his choice was right or wrong.

However, as Miss Zhu said, perhaps it wouldn't matter if we missed this opportunity?

"I wish you a kind heart, but it's a pity this time."

Ye Xiaozhou, however, insisted on getting to the bottom of it:

"That old woman didn't see the prayer you wrote, and because of that, you missed a golden opportunity to draw qi into your body. Don't you regret it?"

Zhu Wuyao was about to shake his head when he suddenly caught his breath and stopped in his tracks.

She heard a sound as clear as the beating of drums—

"Boom!"

The sound seemed to travel directly into her mind, making her ears ring and her chest ache. It was as if a huge net had enveloped her, isolating her from the outside world and rendering her numb.

"Wishing you no invitation, wishing you no invitation—"

A buzzing sound filled her ears, and Ye Xiaozhou's voice calling her name came through a muffled, distorted sound, as if through a membrane.

Zhu Wuyao couldn't see anything clearly, as if she had fallen into an endless abyss. She could even hear her own heartbeat. Then, she realized what that muffled thud had been.

"Boom!"

There was another sound, but this one seemed to be made with all its might.

Zhu Wuyao's chest heaved violently as he looked up at the three people surrounding him, who were filled with surprise and uncertainty.

She said slowly and with certainty:

"I heard it, the last heartbeat before a person dies."

After saying this nonsensical sentence, she suddenly turned around and looked back. The Longevity Inn had returned to tranquility, as if everything she had just experienced was just an illusion.

The innkeeper's cries could no longer be heard.

She suddenly realized something.

When the group returned to the inn, it was already late. The innkeeper was nestled beside his mother, sleeping soundly.

The signed document was carefully flattened, with some bloodstains on the edges.

But those two lines of poetry are completely clean and simple.

"Rain falls from the branches today, and the beautiful flowers bloom again in spring."

Zhu Wuyao stared at the scene before him, remaining silent for a long time.

Finally, she whispered:

“Brother Shen, I can sense the spiritual energy of heaven and earth; it is a net.”