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

While Lu Youqi was nearly driven mad, Zhu Wuyao stood in the courtyard.

The blindfold swayed gently in the wind.

"got windy."

Shen Anzhi's voice came from behind. His eyes were dark and unfathomable, as if there was a swirling mist inside. He looked up at the blue sky, but if you looked closely at his pupils, they seemed empty.

“BOOM—!”

In an instant, dark clouds surged in, covering the sky above Changxiao Town, with muffled thunder rumbling, ready to strike.

This strange celestial phenomenon caused Zhu Wuyao to frown slightly.

"what happened?"

She sensed a subtle change in the world, as if a black scorpion had raised its stinger, ready to stab at her brow at any moment, yet she couldn't discern the source of this sense of crisis.

Shen Anzhi's path of cultivation is deeply connected with the Dao of Heaven.

He could see clearly the changes that others could not perceive. It was the way of Heaven that was driving the arrival of the Great Tribulation, opening up... another way to rise to a higher position and gain power.

But that was all Shen Anzhi could perceive.

He also did not know who this person, born to face calamity, was, or whether Heaven would protect this person.

Upon hearing Zhu Wuyao's question, Shen Anzhi smiled and said:

"Since you have closed your eyes and want to live in seclusion, what do the changes in the world have to do with you?"

Before Zhu Wuyao could reply, Shen Anzhi turned around and looked in the direction of Mingzhu's house. Seemingly sensing something, he asked:

"Her fate has taken a slight turn; did you do something about it?"

The celestial phenomena were unpredictable, and Zhu Wuyao felt slightly uneasy.

Today is the day when the cause and effect she set will change. That stone in the forest will cause a schoolteacher's carriage to get stuck, and when he goes out with a bright candle, he will meet his good teacher.

But then dark clouds and rumbling thunder appeared, and it seems that a downpour will soon follow.

She could use the power of "a corner of the Heavenly Dao" to arrange cause and effect, but she just happened to run into a real change in the Heavenly Dao.

These two events happened at the same time... Zhu Wuyao had no time to pay attention to the changing world situation; she was more worried about what danger Mingzhu might encounter.

Upon hearing Shen Anzhi's question, Zhu Wuyao gave a perfunctory reply:

"It's just a minor skill, nothing more than a debt owed." With that, he turned and walked towards the door.

She can now use the Endless Forms and arrange cause and effect with the Spirit Brush almost without paying a price, but Zhu Wuyao is extremely restrained and only uses it for trivial matters. Her past experiences always make her suspicious that abusing it will eventually come at a price.

The courtyard gate suddenly slammed shut.

Shen Anzhi's annoying voice rang in my ears again:

“Junior Sister Zhu, why don’t you just wait and see? You’re already offering her an umbrella to protect her during a downpour. If she steals again in the future, are you going to use your status as a cultivator to stand up for her?”

The umbrella in his hand shot off at the sound.

May the uninvited voice grow ever colder:

"Just tell me I shouldn't interfere too much in her affairs; too much talk just annoys people."

The umbrella hangs gently an inch in front of me.

Shen Anzhi reached out and grasped the umbrella, placing it at his side, and said, "A storm is brewing; let's wait and see."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Mingzhu sat on a stone not far from the doorway.

On the open ground in front, grains were drying. Only she and her younger sister were at home; her mother and brother had gone out.

Seeing the sudden change in the sky, Mingzhu felt a little worried, but estimating the time, he figured his family should be in Xiaozhen Town and it wasn't time for them to head home yet, so they shouldn't get caught in the rain on the way.

This may be a rainstorm that comes and goes quickly.

Perhaps this is the last rain before winter arrives, after which comes a long, cold season.

Mingzhu ran back and forth inside and outside the house, collecting the dried grain in winnowing baskets and carrying it inside to prevent it from getting wet. He made several trips back and forth, and fortunately, he managed to bring all the grain inside before the downpour started.

Because of the thunder outside, my three- or four-year-old sister was crying and calling for her mother. Perhaps because she was hungry, even her cries sounded weak.

Mingzhu suppressed her worries about her family and hugged her younger sister with her small body, as if they were seeking comfort from each other.

The younger sister's voice gradually softened as she cried herself to sleep.

Mingzhu brought warm clothes from home and built a nest for her, revealing that the two sides were raised to cover her ears.

As the sound of the rain grew louder, her panic intensified.

I ran to the door several times to look out.

She longed to see her mother and brother, yet she also feared seeing those two figures returning in the rain.

Just then, she suddenly noticed some movement in the woods not far away. Thunder and rain mingled together, and Mingzhu couldn't hear clearly, but she could vaguely see figures.

Her mind went blank.

There are few people here, and my mother's eyesight is poor, so she can't see the road clearly.

Mingzhu always stood at the door looking into the distance. On such stormy days, she was always afraid that her family members had an accident outside and would be carried back by others.

He glanced back at his sleeping sister, then braved the torrential rain and ran back the path he had come from.

Zhu Wuyao, sitting at home, sensed all of this with his divine sense and said:

"She is too young and weak; this downpour will make her sick."

“Before this, her family had been completely drained to buy medicine for her eldest brother and to pay back the money I owed her.”

Shen Anzhi remained silent.

As Zhu Wuyao had predicted, Mingzhu met the scholar, but it wasn't the script she had written beforehand—on a sunny autumn day, a poor farm girl from the countryside, curiously observing him, used her rural wisdom to lend a helping hand, and gained the appreciation of the scholar on the carriage.

They met in a raging storm, unwittingly implicating the innocent scholar.

A bolt of lightning struck.

Mingzhu stared blankly at the person in front of her, who was soaked to the bone, feeling somewhat lost and helpless. The scholar in the carriage was trying to open his umbrella and awkwardly clutching the book in his arms.

"Quickly, find a house nearby and hold an umbrella over it... Quickly, cover the books with the umbrella, where's the rain cover?"

The scholar's surname was Cui. She barely managed to open her umbrella, and the book in her arms fell into the mud. She quickly squatted down to pick it up, her hair wet and sticking to her face, dripping water.

The oil-paper umbrella was useless; it was about to be blown apart by the wind, and the rain was drifting in at an angle.

When I looked up, I suddenly saw a little girl standing in the downpour.

They were dressed in thin clothes and shivering.

In the moment of her surprise, she saw the little girl rush forward, take the book that was about to fall from her hand, and shout:

"Don't use your umbrella, run quickly! My house is just ahead, you can take shelter from the rain there!"

As he spoke, he protected the book in his hand with one hand and grabbed the young woman holding the umbrella with the other, pulling her forward forcefully.

The young woman surnamed Cui quickly said, "I have an umbrella here, so don't get wet and catch a cold."

The sudden downpour made people feel irritable.

She shook off the umbrella offered by someone else; such useless protection was a burden in the downpour.

Her shoes were filled with rainwater, her clothes were soaked, her hair was plastered to her face and dripping wet, and rainwater would get in when she opened her mouth to speak. Mingzhu was very anxious and shouted loudly:

"An umbrella is useless in a downpour! We have to break through!"

After saying that, he took the lead and ran home through the torrential rain.

Shen Anzhi said:

"Those who can brave the storm may not be the ones holding the umbrella."

"Once the game is set up, even the player cannot calculate all the variables. Whether or not a path can be found sometimes depends on the pieces themselves."

"You're not the one holding an umbrella in the downpour, so why can't you stand seeing others without one?"