Tan Muxing felt utterly confused and wronged. He had only been separated from Chu Qianli for a short while, yet out of nowhere, she dumped a pot of blame on his head. The little troublemaker accused him of wearing a frosty expression, looking impatient, and even slapping away her hand when she reached out for help—leaving her heartbroken and dejected.
“But I clearly…” Tan Muxing was just about to explain when he saw her furious and sorrowful expression. Driven by a strong survival instinct, he wisely cut himself off and changed his words:
“…I’m sorry.”
“Hmph.” Chu Qianli muttered, “That was so hurtful, practically a psychological trauma.”
Even though he was the one who got bitten, Tan Muxing still had to apologize. He said meekly, “I’m really sorry.”
Though he didn’t know what exactly had made her upset, he still chose to apologize sincerely.
“I’m mad now. Not talking to you.”
Seeing her turn around to leave, Tan Muxing instantly panicked.
When Chu Qianli glanced back and saw the confusion all over his face, she hesitated for a few seconds before grumbling awkwardly,
“I’ll talk to you again in one minute.”
Tan Muxing was stunned by that. Watching her turn her head back again, his heart felt as if it had been dipped in honey. Unable to help himself, he said with a half-laugh, “Just one minute of ignoring me?”
“What else?” Chu Qianli shot him a sideways look and said with deliberate composure, “Then make it two minutes.”
Tan Muxing immediately shut his mouth.
After Chu Qianli walked out of the dead-end, she kept going straight ahead. Tan Muxing followed behind, watching her back, hesitating:
“You…”
“What is it?” Chu Qianli cut him off with a frown. “It hasn’t been two minutes yet. It’s only been one minute and twenty-one seconds.”
“…” Tan Muxing realized she was surprisingly precise—at least outside of academics.
The two walked one in front, one behind.
Tan Muxing checked the time and reminded her,
“Two minutes.”
“Oh.”
Seeing that she didn’t even turn her head, Tan Muxing finally stepped forward, reaching out to take her hand.
Startled, Chu Qianli turned around.
His palm was very warm, just enough to wrap around hers.
“I’ll walk in front from now on,” Tan Muxing said as he switched places with her. Holding onto the little troublemaker, he added, “What if you bump into something again later?”
Inside the cave, the situation was unclear—they didn’t know what lay ahead.
Chu Qianli fell silent for a moment. She lowered her head and glanced at the hand being held, then muttered, “But there’s no need for this, right? My head doesn’t hurt now.”
The last time they walked hand in hand through a corridor, it was because Chu Qianli had been in severe pain. But now, she was perfectly fine.
“I’m afraid,” Tan Muxing replied.
“Afraid of what?”
Tan Muxing turned back to glance at her. After hesitating for a long while, he confessed, “I’m afraid you’ll go missing again.”
Chu Qianli pouted. “That’s impossible here. Didn’t you just find me a moment ago?”
Tan Muxing said sincerely, “I’m also afraid I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing.”
Chu Qianli: “?”
After all, he had just left her side for a short while and was already accused of scolding and hitting her. If something like that happened again, he’d likely spend his whole life saying sorry.
Moments later, the two of them found Xu Zaiyuan in another corner of the cave. He was leaning silently against a rock with a peach wood sword strapped to his back, seemingly deep in thought.
Tan Muxing asked in confusion, “Why isn’t he coming out?”
Liu Jun was anxiously waiting outside, while Xu Zaiyuan remained here alone.
“So this is what being misled by hallucinations looks like,” Chu Qianli said, pulling out her phone and snapping a picture casually. “I’m taking a photo for future laughs.”
Tan Muxing: “?”
In his hallucination, Xu Zaiyuan remembered trying to find a way out. But after absorbing a huge amount of information, he saw a familiar face.
A simple and elegant woman stood silently before him with a reserved and gentle smile, quietly gazing at him.
It was his mother—the one who gave him life.
Xu Zaiyuan was fully aware that he was trapped in a subconscious hallucination, yet he couldn’t summon his usual analytical thinking. All he could do was stare in stunned silence. He had never interacted with his mother. Since birth, he had lived in Qianshan and had never seen any family members.
He knew she was his mother because he had seen a photo. He had found some old documents in his master’s drawer, and from a tiny ID photo, he had formed an impression of a mother he had never met.
That’s why the woman in his hallucination couldn’t speak—because he didn’t know what her voice sounded like.
He was someone with faint familial ties, having been raised away from all relatives. He would have neither wife nor children in the future. That was the price of his talent. If he tried to keep such ties by force, best-case scenario, it would lead to internal strife and alienation; worst-case, the destruction of his home and the loss of his own life. Only through cultivation could he save himself.
The more he advanced in metaphysics, the more he understood this. Yet he was still unwilling.
If he had truly accepted it, he wouldn’t be seeing her now.
Xu Zaiyuan’s eyes grew hot. Though he had never exchanged a word with his mother, seeing her now gave him a sense of belonging—a feeling that blood was thicker than water. His lips trembled, and eventually, he uttered that unfamiliar title, his voice hoarse:
“…Mom.”
Even though she couldn’t reply, he spoke anyway—as if fulfilling a distant, unattainable wish.
But to his surprise, she actually responded.
Her voice was very soft.
“Mm. Good child.”
Hearing that reply, Xu Zaiyuan felt complete in that moment. A tear slid down his cheek.
Back in the cave, Tan Muxing looked nervously at Chu Qianli, who had just responded to Xu Zaiyuan’s hallucination. “This probably isn’t okay, right?”
After they found Xu Zaiyuan, they realized he was dazed and murmuring to himself. They had no idea how to wake him up.
Just then, Xu Zaiyuan suddenly called out for his mother—and Chu Qianli actually replied!
Tan Muxing was alarmed. Xu Zaiyuan cried out “Mom,” and she answered him without hesitation.
Chu Qianli waved her hand solemnly and said, “Star, you just don’t get it. I’m helping him overcome his inner demons.”
Tan Muxing felt that out of the 365 days in a year, he spent about 300 of them worrying she was going to get beaten up: “…”
As expected, after Xu Zaiyuan shed a tear, he slowly opened his eyes and returned to his usual state.
Facing the two who had come to find him, he didn’t linger in small talk but instead said quietly, “Thank you. Let’s head out.”
Xu Zaiyuan didn’t mention the hallucination or ask why they had come for him. He simply reverted to his usual quiet and reserved self.
Tan Muxing asked worriedly, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Though Xu Zaiyuan said so, he didn’t look it.
“Alright, stop looking so down,” Chu Qianli said carelessly. “You still have your master and fellow disciples. If it really bothers you that much, just go find her.”
Tan Muxing heard this and recalled what Xu Zaiyuan had just said, and suddenly, something clicked.
Xu Zaiyuan lowered his gaze. “I can’t go find her.”
Chu Qianli scoffed, “Says who? What book of destiny told you that? Which master said so?”
“You know the situation,” Xu Zaiyuan said, lifting his eyes to her.
Chu Qianli’s price was lifespan; Xu Zaiyuan’s was loneliness.
Chu Qianli replied calmly, “It’s not that you can’t. You’re just afraid.”
Xu Zaiyuan’s eyes trembled slightly.
“You feel regret for what you’ve never had. But in truth, you don’t even know what she’s really like. Maybe she’s not as great as you imagined. Or maybe she really does care for you. It’s an unknown—and that’s why you’re afraid.”
Xu Zaiyuan, with his faint ties to family, feared that if he sought them out, it would end with mutual disappointment.
“Fate-telling is about helping people avoid disaster and seek fortune, sure. But there’s another saying: to do what one knows cannot be done. It’s meant to help people make better choices—not take choices away from them.”
Chu Qianli shrugged. “It’s only a choice if it’s voluntary. If you’re forced, then it’s not a choice at all. If it really doesn’t work out, sneak a peek from afar and run if it looks bad. Your master won’t disown you for that.”
Only after tasting all the flavors of life can someone truly let go of obsessions. Otherwise, no one’s advice will help.
After hearing her suggestion, Xu Zaiyuan fell into deep thought. Then he couldn’t help but ask, “Why are you telling me all this?”
He remembered she had initially been hostile toward him, but now she seemed much more kind.
Chu Qianli proudly lifted her chin. “Because I’m the number one in this generation—always virtuous and talented. Sometimes I give the juniors a little boost, too.”
Xu Zaiyuan: “?”
“And judging by how you seem to have let go now, it’s like how you sometimes think I’m amazing—well, sometimes I wonder if I should’ve been like you too,” Chu Qianli said softly. “Maybe then I wouldn’t have to go through all this.”
She had once thought, if she chose to renounce the world and fully commit to spiritual practice, maybe life wouldn’t be so hard. She wouldn’t have to run around just to change fate. Maybe things would’ve been easier.
She hadn’t had a point of comparison before, so the thought hadn’t been too strong. But after Xu Zaiyuan appeared, it was like seeing a different path—comparison became inevitable.
“Maybe constantly envying others is just a human flaw. Even I can’t always escape it. But now I’m more certain about one thing—there’s nothing really worth comparing. Everyone has their own unique life path.”
Astrology is about helping people find their life missions—understanding the things they must do in this lifetime. It has nothing to do with wealth, gender, or family background. Each person faces their own trials.
Even if she had made the same choice as Xu Zaiyuan, she still wouldn’t have escaped the lessons of this life. She would have faced a new set of challenges. There are no shortcuts.
Xu Zaiyuan calmly pointed out, “That sounds like the guilty conscience of someone who’s doing better than me.”
Chu Qianli looked surprised. “You could tell? I thought you didn’t understand human emotions!”
Xu Zaiyuan reminded her, “I went to school.”
Tan Muxing quickly tried to smooth things over, defending Chu Qianli with a warm smile. “She’s still just a kid, just a kid.”
After the three of them regrouped, they contacted Liu Jun and finally rejoined the team at the cave entrance.
Seeing that Xu Zaiyuan was completely unharmed, Liu Jun set aside his initial fear and solemnly said, “Zaiyuan, this really was my mistake. I can’t just blindly follow your lead from now on.”
“Thinking about it, you’re still young. No matter how skilled you are, you’re bound to make mistakes. I used to forget that just because your readings were always spot-on.”
Liu Jun had deeply reflected after talking with Chu Qianli. He realized he couldn’t let Xu Zaiyuan carry too much on his shoulders—always seeing the boy’s composure and forgetting his feelings.
Xu Zaiyuan was stunned: “I…”
Mei Rujing said, “This is concern. You’re still a kid too.”
Chu Qianli clapped from the side, clearly agreeing. “Exactly! He obviously still needs parental supervision. No one should be without rules or structure!”
“…”
Tan Muxing saw how she was gloating and strongly suspected that she harbored deep resentment over the fact that Xu Zaiyuan didn’t have someone like He Shichen around to rein him in.
