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

During the conversation, Zhu Wuyao inquired about Shen Anzhi's purpose in coming out of seclusion. He had assumed that Shen Anzhi was looking for a new batch of disciples for the Star-Picking Pavilion, but it turned out to be just a routine inspection.

I wonder if the Star-Picking Tower is deserted now.

They actually sent Shen An down the mountain.

Isn't this just offering yourself up only to get scammed?

Zhu Wuyao put a piece of food in his mouth, then felt that he was meddling in other people's business. As a mere mortal, how could he worry about the safety of cultivators?

She should be more worried about whether the borrowed tables and chairs will be taken away.

"Master Shen..."

“Miss Zhu, please just call me by my name.” Shen Anzhi seemed extremely uncomfortable with the title “Immortal Master”.

Zhu Wuyao didn't insist any further and readily agreed, saying, "Brother Shen, how do you intend to find your junior sister?"

Upon hearing this question, a look of worry appeared on Shen Anzhi's face.

"Yes...how do we find it?"

Zhu Wuyao found this strange. Shouldn't cultivators have some kind of communication talisman? How come it's missing in a small city like Beixuan?

Hearing Zhu Wuyao's question, Shen Anzhi became even more melancholy.

“Miss Zhu doesn’t know that my junior sister is free-spirited and dislikes being restrained. After she went down the mountain, she deliberately hid her whereabouts, which made me search for her in great difficulty.”

This translates to: My junior sister has gone off to have some fun somewhere.

So… Zhu Wuyao glanced at Shen Anzhi and said:

"Brother Shen, since you can't find her, why don't you let her come to you on her own?"

"Today I borrowed the name of Zhaixinglou, and with this commotion, I estimate that many people in Beixuan City will know about it."

"If your junior sister hears this, she will definitely be unable to resist her curiosity and want to find out what's going on."

Shen Anzhi's eyes lit up, but then he said with a hint of helplessness:

"This method is excellent, but... what if my junior sister clearly sees me but doesn't come forward to acknowledge me? What should I do then?"

Zhu Wuyao was also somewhat helpless.

Why does Brother Shen's junior sister sound so rebellious?

She hesitated for a moment and said, "Brother Shen, are you in such a hurry to find your junior sister because you are worried about her safety?"

"exactly."

"Then why don't you show your face tomorrow, Brother Shen? If she runs into trouble, at least she'll know where to look for you?"

Shen Anzhi sighed deeply and said helplessly:

"That's all we can do. We'll have to trouble Miss Zhu again tomorrow."

Zhu Wuyao waved his hand repeatedly and said, "Of course."

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.

Early the next morning.

Zhu Wuyao set up his stall again, and after yesterday's ordeal, the name "Master Wuyan" is even more renowned.

Not only did no one steal the tables and chairs that remained in place, but some people even came early in the morning to keep watch, hoping to get a divination.

Although she loved money, she didn't dare to give unsolicited advice.

They would only pick a few characters whose personalities they could discern and write a few lines about them. They wouldn't ask for much money; after deducting the cost of meals and lodging at the inn, they could earn a dozen or so coins.

During this time, Shen Anzhi sat to the side, smiling gently as he watched the people who came to have their fortunes told.

Zhu Wuyao strongly doubted that he could see people clearly at all.

It's interesting.

Because he couldn't tell whether it was coarse cloth or fine silk, or whether it was cunning or honest, Shen Anzhi treated everyone the same.

He never offered any advice; he just sat there and listened to Zhu Wuyao's fabrications.

Before her stood a couple with their sick child; all three looked pale and thin, which pained Zhu Wuyao.

They wanted to ask if the disease could be cured, and if it was truly beyond saving, they wouldn't spend any more money.

Human life is a matter of life and death, and Zhu Wuyao dared not make a hasty decision.

But they were also afraid that if they said "we're not meant to be," they would dash all the family's hopes.

She turned to look at Shen Anzhi and asked, "Brother Shen?"

Shen Anzhi's gaze cleared somewhat as he looked at the family of three before him, then said to Zhu Wuyao:

"It is not my destiny."

Zhu Wuyao frowned. Shen Anzhi didn't intend to interfere, and she herself didn't dare to speak rashly.

After hesitating for a moment, he avoided everyone's gaze, took out some money, and placed it in the couple's hands, saying only:

"Life and death cannot be discussed openly."

There are countless hardships in the world, and it's impossible to save everyone you see. If I had met this couple yesterday, I wouldn't have been able to afford food myself, let alone generously give them money.

She's made more money today, so this fake Taoist priest doesn't mind doing some real good deeds.

The couple looked down at the money in their hands, clutching it tightly, their eyes filled with gratitude.

The Taoist priest, being kind-hearted, gave them money for the treatment, which meant the illness could definitely be cured and their child could be saved...

The three thanked Zhu Wuyao repeatedly, and the child tried even harder to smile:

"Thank you, Sister Daoist."

Those pure eyes were like a clear spring that could be seen to its bottom, and Zhu Wuyao suddenly felt a sharp pain in her heart as if it had been clenched.

After everyone left, she felt inexplicably depressed.

He finally spoke up and asked, "Brother Shen, did I do the right thing?"

Shen Anzhi sighed softly and remained silent for a long time. Only when Zhu Wuyao thought he wouldn't speak did Shen Anzhi say with a slight sigh:

“Miss Zhu, you did the right thing.”

"That amount of money was just enough to buy a simple coffin."

Zhu Wuyao was stunned for a moment.

She recalled the couple's gratitude for the renewed hope, the child's smile before leaving, and Shen Anzhi's words, "It's not my destiny."

Could it be that her connection with this family was merely a thin coffin for her soul to rest in?

What kind of fate is this...?

She suddenly stood up and asked, "Brother Shen, fate can be created by human effort, right?"

Zhu Wuyao recalled the clinic she had visited a few days ago. The old woman there could even tell about cultivation practices, so she was sure she could save a mortal.

"Yes... Miss Zhu, you must..."

Zhu Wuyao first clasped his hands in apology to everyone, then turned to walk around the stall to catch up with the one in front.

It's rare for her to do charity work out of her own pocket, so if this is the only outcome, it's too unfair.

However, at that moment, a commotion arose ahead—

"It's dead!!!"

The crowd hurriedly made way, but Zhu Wuyao's heart skipped a beat. Instead of retreating, he stepped forward and looked ahead.

Sure enough, there was that family of three ahead.

The child had already stopped breathing. The couple collapsed to their knees, unable to believe it.

The man's hands trembled as he opened his palm, his lips quivering as he spoke:

"Impossible, impossible! Just now, Master Wuyan said 'Life and death cannot be fully explained,' but she gave me money for medical treatment. Doesn't that mean we should go find a doctor to continue treatment?"

"My child can still be saved... there's still hope!"

Those around remained silent, unsure of what to say, only a few sighs could be heard.

Until a butcher hesitated before speaking:

“The coffin shop on East Street, a thin coffin for a child costs… three qian and four wen.”

The man who was holding the silver coins, trying to show them to everyone as if grasping at a last straw, was struck dumb upon hearing this.

After a long while, a heart-wrenching cry was heard.

Until it's utterly heartbreaking.

Zhu Wuyao watched the scene unfold in silence, as if she had glimpsed the malice of fate. She turned to Shen Anzhi and asked softly:

What will happen if I don't pay?

Hearing the wails around him, Shen Anzhi's eyes showed a hint of pity as he said:

"That child will die tonight, and even if we borrow from all the neighbors, we won't be able to afford a coffin."

"Why did I get the money earlier than expected after I paid...?"

Upon hearing this barely audible question, Shen Anzhi did not answer, but instead turned his gaze to the crowd.

Amidst the heart-wrenching sobs, some whispers could be heard—

"Master Wuyan is truly skilled."

"Yes, yes, they even predicted the child's death date and gave us the money to buy a coffin."

"She also said that life and death are indescribable, which clearly means she can calculate life and death with her fingers!"

……

The second day of opening the stall.

A thin coffin costs three or four coins; may you rise to fame without being invited.