TGA Chapter 39

At the Tan family estate, a stretch limousine came to a steady stop at the entrance. Tan Muxing stepped out of the car under the twilight and, as he entered the courtyard, ran into Tan Qiyu, who was playing with a bird.

Tan Qiyu held a small stick in one hand, carefully adjusting the equipment inside the birdcage. When he looked up and saw the returning Tan Muxing, he asked curiously, “Xingxing, you’re coming back later and later these days.”

Tan Muxing found it hard to explain that he rode part of the way before taking a car and stammered, “Got delayed a little on the road. Grandpa, why are you coming down here?”

Tan Qiyu smiled and said, “Seizing the chance to take a stroll while no one’s around to bother me. Your grandma couldn’t even be bothered to come down with me.”

Tan Muxing nodded. He stayed by his grandfather’s side, watching the bird, and did not immediately head back inside.

“By the way, Master Xu Qian will be visiting our home in a while,” Tan Qiyu said as he sneaked a glance at Tan Muxing’s expression. “He mentioned it when he came down the mountain to say hello, saying that he won’t leave the mountain for the next few years.”

Master Xu Qian had always lived in the Taoist temple, though he occasionally came down for matters. Now that he said he wouldn’t leave the mountain for years, it meant he wouldn’t attend to any affairs either. People regularly delivered food and water to the mountain, so the Taoists wouldn’t face any difficulties without descending.

Tan Muxing nodded. “Alright.”

Tan Qiyu wanted to hint that this might be one of the last opportunities to meet the Taoist master, but Tan Muxing’s reaction was exceedingly calm. With a sigh, Tan Qiyu asked, “Still upset with the master?”

Tan Muxing softly replied, “I’ve never been upset with him.”

Tan Qiyu felt regretful. “Ah, that’s partly my fault. I didn’t expect you to be hiding behind the door back then, and you overheard something you shouldn’t have as a child… Forget it. If you want to see the master, let me know. If not, it’s fine too!”

Tan Muxing agreed honestly. He wasn’t planning to meet Master Xu Qian—he wouldn’t know what to say if they did meet, anyway.

After exchanging a few pleasantries with his grandfather, Tan Muxing slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked through the long corridor to his room.

The twilight was dim, and the plants and trees in the courtyard looked just as they had years ago. Every time he walked through the shadowy paths, he would recall memories from his childhood.

He had lived here since he could remember. During the day, he ran around the courtyard surrounded by adults, and at night, he slept under starlight on a large, old-fashioned bed. Occasionally, he would hide in the study and give his grandfather a scare. His parents had been busy with work at the time, so he lived with his elders, never stepping beyond the vast Tan family estate.

There were always Taoists visiting the estate, mostly young ones delivering vegetables or tea. However, one day, a Taoist master with a different appearance arrived.

Tan Qiyu respectfully invited Master Xu Qian into the house, and the two had a solemn discussion in the study.

Young Tan Muxing didn’t understand the reason for the Taoist master’s visit. As usual, he hid behind the secret door in the study, planning to jump out and startle his grandfather when he passed by.

However, his grandfather and the Taoist master were speaking seriously, leaving Tan Muxing hesitant to interrupt and unable to sneak out. He had no choice but to stay hidden, quietly observing the situation and waiting for the adults to finish.

But they seemed to be talking about him.

The Taoist master’s words were deeply obscure—entirely incomprehensible for a child. He mentioned phrases like “three generations of generals, taboo in Taoism,” “too much killing karma,” and “deep karmic burdens.”

Tan Muxing vaguely sensed that he might have done something wrong in the past. The master asked his grandfather to keep a close eye on him and prevent any further transgressions. He didn’t understand when this “past” was—they referred to it as “a certain life.”

After his grandfather and the Taoist master left, Tan Muxing quietly slipped out of the study and never mentioned the incident to anyone.

When his parents eventually returned from work, he left the estate and went to the city to live with them.

“Mom, what does ‘too much killing karma’ mean?”

“It probably means killing a lot of people. Did you hear about this in a drama with Grandma?”

“The bearded uncle from the mountain said I have too much killing karma…” Little Tan Muxing, with skin as white as porcelain, had reddened eyes and murmured, “Mom, am I a bad person?”

“What nonsense is that? What bearded uncle?” His mother, realizing something, quickly comforted him, “That’s just old superstition. Don’t take such talk seriously. Of course, you’re not a bad person!”

His mother patiently coaxed him for a long time until Tan Muxing finally felt at ease and gradually forgot the troubling memory of the study.

Because of this, Tan Muxing avoided returning to the Tan family estate for a time. Stepping through its gates brought back memories of the Taoist master and that dark episode buried deep in his heart.

Time helps people forget many things but never completely.

As Tan Muxing grew older, his visits to the estate became even less frequent. He started attending kindergarten and interacting with peers his age.

The summer winds in the capital were stifling, and children walked on the scorching ground. After brief outdoor activities, they had to return indoors.

Conflicts between children arose quickly, starting with a fight over toys and escalating into unexpected shoving.

That was when Tan Muxing first realized he was different.

He didn’t want to let go of the toy, but the other child tugged and pulled with all their might, unable to budge him. When Tan Muxing mimicked the act of pushing back, the other child fell hard onto the ground, their tender skin scraping against it and bleeding bright red.

Sand, blood, tears, and the frightened gazes of surrounding children.

Holding the toy tightly, Tan Muxing panicked and felt bewildered under everyone’s gaze, unable to understand what he had done wrong.

The teacher came and inspected the child’s wounds, sternly admonishing both parties, “No violence allowed.”

Tan Muxing wasn’t the one who started the fight, but his strength had hurt someone else. Even he couldn’t control the force he exerted.

Perhaps he had done something terrible in a past life. That instinct seemed innate—it required no practice.

The injured child was taken to the infirmary, and the others steered clear of Tan Muxing, as though they were afraid of him.

He looked down at the toy in his hands and suddenly found it meaningless. He placed it back in the toy bin.

At home, he had plenty of toys. His parents would buy him anything he wanted. It seemed that holding on or letting go didn’t matter—fighting or not fighting was all the same.

Maybe it wasn’t just superstition, but deep down, he didn’t want to believe it.

Avoiding violence should be enough.

Sitting at his desk, Tan Muxing shook his head vigorously, trying to shake off the past and focus on sketching a design.

Looking at his draft, he felt a bit distressed. Did his desk partner prefer gold?

He could borrow Chu Qianli’s homework, help her with small tasks, accompany her to record astrology videos or do fortune-telling, and even take long detours to bike home with her. He had never thought about anything else—he felt that things were perfect as they were.

Simple happiness was precious enough. He shouldn’t hope for more.

It’s better to be a fool than a general.

The school’s evening gala ended successfully. The classmates performed an ancient costume drama, and both Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing played minor roles, muddling through the event.

After the gala ended, the only thing left was the final exams, which made Chu Qianli feel very stressed.

Chu Qianli slumped dejectedly over her desk. She couldn’t focus on her books at all and mumbled, “Why haven’t any big-money clients come to me recently?”

Chu Qianli was currently studying the Red Crystal Tarot. She was still doing online readings for people but hadn’t come across any wealthy clients in a while.

She cast a woeful glance at Tan Muxing, her eyes full of grievance. “Am I out of fashion now?”

Tan Muxing’s eyes darted nervously. He hastily explained, “We haven’t encountered any suitable clients recently…”

Qiu Qingkong mainly handled their online client group, while Tan Muxing introduced wealthy business executives. Their approaches to expanding their network were different, but together they built a comprehensive client base.

In reality, Chu Qianli’s reputation had skyrocketed after Qi’s family banquet. Countless people were inquiring about her, all hearing about a young master astrologer in the capital.

Qi Chengliang didn’t want anyone from Qi Yan’s side to gain prominence and, not knowing Chu Qianli’s name, avoided mentioning it, keeping the curious at bay. Meanwhile, Qi Yan was still attending school and hadn’t formally entered social circles.

He Jianping had guessed that the young master astrologer was Chu Qianli. However, he didn’t dare to bypass Tan Muxing to make an introduction. Occasionally, he would inquire indirectly, hoping to learn about Chu Qianli’s availability through Tan Muxing.

There were plenty of wealthy businesspeople wanting to consult Chu Qianli, but Tan Muxing wasn’t taking any of these requests lately. The main reason was the looming final exams.

He knew very well that his deskmate wanted to use divination as an excuse to avoid studying. But failing the finals wouldn’t do either. Making money could wait a little longer—at least until she secured her diploma.

Tan Muxing gently advised, “Maybe people will come looking for you after finals. Everyone’s busy during this time.”

Chu Qianli sighed. “But I was hoping to make some big money before the holidays. Otherwise, there’ll be even fewer chances when I go back to the village.”

Tan Muxing was surprised. “You’re going back to the village for the break?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been back in a while. I need to tidy up the house at least.” Chu Qianli planned to use the Red Crystal Tarot to gather some insights. She also wanted to dig into her grandfather’s old books, hoping to figure out something new.

Tan Muxing fell silent. He realized that Chu Qianli also referred to the village as “home” and never avoided talking about her past.

“Sigh, maybe I should go cry poor to my ATM and squeeze out some money in advance…” Chu Qianli mumbled as she rested her head on the desk, looking pitifully at Tan Muxing. “Can’t we really find some rich, gullible person?”

Her face all but screamed, “Try harder! Think of something!”

“No, really, we can’t…” Tan Muxing firmly shook his head, fearing that her pleading gaze might sway him and delay her from preparing for finals.

After thinking for a moment, he decided to change the subject. “By the way, your birthday is coming up, and I’ve prepared two options for gifts. Which one do you prefer?”

Chu Qianli: “I want both!”

Tan Muxing was taken aback. “Huh? But what if you don’t like one of them?”

Chu Qianli declared decisively, “Don’t ask. I want both! If you’re worried I won’t like them, just give me more. There’ll always be something I like—more, more!”

Tan Muxing: “… Fine.”

Just as Tan Muxing managed to shift her focus to gifts and away from divination, Qiu Qingkong walked over and ruined his efforts with a single question.

“Hey, do you have any way to boost luck? I know eating crystal powder doesn’t work, but I heard film crews light incense at opening ceremonies. Is it something like that?”

Chu Qianli explained, “Oh, I don’t do rituals, and I don’t like studying that kind of technique. I prefer to follow natural laws. I’m a believer in Marxism, after all.”

Some people practice divination and also burn incense or pray. Chu Qianli didn’t have such beliefs, so she didn’t dabble in those areas. Her approach to astrology blended both Eastern and Western methods. To her, deciding which deity to believe in—Eastern or Western—would be a hassle.

Qiu Qingkong scratched her head helplessly. “Alright then, I’ll let my dad handle it. I thought this would be an easy gig for you, but who knows what scammer he’ll fall for this time…”

Hearing this, Chu Qianli’s eyes lit up. She suddenly perked up and exclaimed, “A fresh sucker—I mean, a new esteemed client! What’s the issue?”

“But you said you don’t do rituals?”

“There’s more than one way to solve a problem! What’s the matter at hand?”

“Our family runs a media company, and they’re planning to debut a boy band. Before they launch, they want to hold some sort of ceremony, like how film crews do at opening events. You know how uncertain the entertainment industry can be. My dad believes in this stuff a bit.”

Seeing that Chu Qianli was tempted, Tan Muxing cautiously reminded her, “We have final exams coming up. Shouldn’t we focus on studying first…?”

Qiu Qingkong countered, “It’s not complicated—just a quick trip. The company’s nearby.”

Chu Qianli and Qiu Qingkong immediately hit it off and decided to visit the company, leaving the disheartened Tan Muxing with no choice but to tag along.

Fortunately, the media company wasn’t far away, and they didn’t even need to wait for the weekend to go.

After school, the three of them took a twenty-minute ride to the company. Inside, the company was divided into specific areas, with a dedicated activity zone and practice rooms for the trainees.

Qiu Qingkong led Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing into the company, greeting the staff along the way before taking her friends to the practice room, where the boy band was rehearsing their singing and dancing for their debut.

The company clearly wanted the boy band to become a big hit and was considering adding a ceremonial touch before their launch. However, Chu Qianli stood outside the practice room and stared inside for a long time before realizing that some jobs simply couldn’t be taken on.

Chu Qianli froze for a while, then turned to Qiu Qingkong and tentatively said, “Maybe you should let your dad find someone else?”

Qiu Qingkong was stunned. “Why?”

Chu Qianli scratched her head and hesitated. “Um… there are some issues that rituals—or anything else—just can’t solve.”

Tan Muxing translated her meaning precisely: “She’s saying that with singing and dancing like this, not even mysticism can help.”

Qiu Qingkong: “…”