Chen Jiu looked solemn, pointed her sword skyward, summoning heavenly thunder into the blade. Countless talismans shot through the air, spinning rapidly around her.
“Talisman opens heaven and earth, sword guides heavenly thunder!”
“Nine heavens roar Shatter!”
A deafening crash echoed. The cloudless sky instantly erupted in thunder and lightning, violent winds howling. Bolts of lightning split the night, surging straight into her thunder sword. Every blade of grass and tree rustled violently in the gale.
The resentment condensed into a thick fog shaped like a giant dog head, opening its enormous jaws and lunging straight at her.
With destiny already set, Chen Jiu soared upward. One slash tore apart its front, and her second strike gathered all the power of heavenly thunder. Lightning coiled like a dragon, charging straight into the fog along with her sword aura.
Before the monster could let out a final roar, countless sharp lightning blades shredded its lingering spirit into nothingness.
The fog dispersed completely. The barrier vanished, the wind died down, and the cemetery on the mountain fell back into peaceful silence. With a soft whistle, the thunder sword disappeared without a trace.
Chen Jiu turned to Wang Jianhui, still lying on the ground gasping weakly.
“Its soul has been scattered forever. It will never haunt you again. Don’t forget to settle my payment when you get back.”
“Okay.” Wang Jianhui stared blankly at the sky, his lips trembling. After she walked a few steps, he called out, “Master… did you predict everything that would happen?”
Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Chen Jiu did not look back.
“How could I? Thoughts shift faster than lightning. There are thousands of possible outcomes in a single moment. I cannot guess its every move.”
Wang Jianhui murmured an acknowledgment and stayed motionless on the ground.
Chen Jiu walked away, then returned, clicking her tongue. She found a thick broken branch nearby, propped half his body on it, and dragged him away.
She whistled. Xiaoxuan darted out of nowhere and jumped onto her shoulder. Human, girl and cat slowly left the charred, haunted ground.
Back in Qiu City, Chen Jiu told Wang Jianhui to bathe thoroughly with pomelo leaves, and to move houses if possible. The local feng shui had been ruined beyond repair; a new home would always be better.
After paying the fee, Wang Jianhui wore a numb expression.
Seeing he had no intention of leaving, Chen Jiu sat down. “Stay for dinner? I’ll order takeout.”
“No.” His face was pale, utterly exhausted, his voice weak. “Do I still need to offer sacrifices to it every festival?”
Chen Jiu poured herself a cup of tea. “No need. That was my original plan, but it chose its own path to annihilation.”
Wang Jianhui sat in silence for a long while, then waved goodbye and left.
Chen Jiu watched his retreating figure and called, “Get plenty of sunlight.”
He nodded, walking hunched and hollow.
A soft female advertisement drifted over from a nearby shop:
“Pets are the spiritual comfort of modern people, eternal companions…”
Wang Jianhui wiped his face clumsily. He decided he would erect a small tombstone for Dahei, far away from his parents’ graves so they would not trouble each other. He would visit occasionally on festivals, it was no trouble at all.
He wandered aimlessly in the sunlight until his phone vibrated in his pocket. Blinded by the brightness, he answered without checking the caller ID.
“Honey?” A tired voice came from the other end. “Where are you? Come pick me up home.”
After a long moment of stunned silence, overwhelming long-lost joy flooded his heart.
“Wife! Are you feeling better?”
“I’m much improved. The doctor said I just need to rest at home. After a month of stable recovery, I’ll be fine.”
“Great! I’ll be right there!” He hastily hailed a taxi.
“Don’t rush. Be careful. You’re still so flustered.”
Chen Jiu leaned against the store doorway, watching the taxi drive away, sucking on a lollipop and pretending to hold a cigarette between her fingers. It was not a perfect ending, but at least nothing worse would happen.
She waved Xiaoxuan over to sunbathe with her. The cat raised its tail, stepped backward instead, tilted its head strangely, and sidestepped playfully — inviting her to chase him.
Chen Jiu looked away, too embarrassed to watch.
There were folding chairs outside her shop, placed to accumulate good karma: umbrellas on rainy days, seats for passersby on sunny days.
An elderly lady from the fruit shop next door often came to sit and chat, one of the very few friends Chen Jiu had made since descending the mountain.
“Young people have so much pressure these days,” the old lady stroked Xiaoxuan’s fur and sighed. “Another one jumped to their death a few days ago. Only child of rural farming parents… it breaks my heart to hear.”
Chen Jiu asked, “How much compensation did they get?”
“Several hundred thousand, I heard.”
“Only two hundred thousand,” another aunt passing by joined their gossip, shaking her head. “A whole life, worth just two hundred thousand.”
“Didn’t the family protest?”
“They’re fighting, but haven’t reached a settlement yet,” the old lady said.
The aunt sighed sympathetically. “Honest peasant folk, how can they stand up against a big company?”
Chen Jiu poured them tea and offered pastries, listening casually to gossip to pass the time.
Soon the sun set. She packed up the outdoor items, picked up Xiaoxuan, and went inside to prepare dinner for herself and the cat.
The automatic door chimed. A young girl walked in.
She looked newly graduated, eyes clear, too shy to hold eye contact. She looked slightly surprised when she saw how young Chen Jiu was.
“Hello?” Chen Jiu kept working, greeting her casually.
“Are you eating?” the girl said awkwardly.
Chen Jiu glanced at her instant noodle bowl. “Yep.”
Silence fell. She hesitated between politeness and urgency.
Chen Jiu said, “Just tell me what you need.”
Relieved, the girl spoke hesitantly. “You take those… special cases here, right?”
“I do.” Chen Jiu switched to her professional demeanor warmly. “Wanshi Zhai handles everything yin matters, yang matters, karmic matters. Please sit.”
The girl perched nervously on the edge of a chair. “Should I wait until you finish eating?”
She was already doubtful. The shop looked plain, unimposing, and the owner was no older than her. Could she really be capable?
Chen Jiu set down her noodles and sat across from her, pouring tea. “It’ll take a while to soak anyway. I’m in no hurry. Speak your mind.”
After more hesitation, she decided to take a chance. She had not come all this way for nothing.
“It’s not about me. A girl who joined the company with me… she fell from a building a few days ago.”
Chen Jiu’s heart skipped a beat. What a coincidence she had just heard this story moments ago.
“Did you hear about it too?” Noticing Chen Jiu’s expression, the girl said. “The story went viral online briefly, but the company suppressed all news. We’re told not to talk about it outside.”
“Then why come to me?”
“I dreamed of her last night.” Her voice turned sorrowful.
The girl was Xu Xin. The deceased was Li Mengran. They were interns at DH Company, close friends with similar birthdays, personalities and hobbies, even the same scheduled confirmation date. They had become each other’s closest companions in their first year away from home.
Two months ago, they were assigned to rival departments caught in internal power struggles. Li Mengran changed completely overnight. She was constantly anxious, pale, filled with hidden resentment and irritability.
Xu Xin cared for her, but Li Mengran only blamed work stress, overtime and insomnia. She grew irritable and pushed everyone away. Xu Xin was gentle and patient at first, but eventually grew exhausted and distanced herself, never knowing what truly tormented her.
The night before the fall, they had planned to talk. That phone call became their last.
Xu Xin wiped her tears. “In my dream, she told me… she didn’t want to die. She never wanted to die.”
Chen Jiu understood at once. “You don’t believe it was suicide.”
She noticed Xu Xin always used “fell from a building”, while everyone else spoke of “jumped”.
Xu Xin lifted her head and nodded firmly.
All her life she had been a rational, atheist person. But after her friend’s death, that dream became something she wholeheartedly believed in.
Chen Jiu scanned her face, fingers moving subtly beneath the table.
No foul energy clung to her. The dream was merely deep longing, thoughts lingering day and night manifesting in sleep.
“What do you want me to calculate?”
Xu Xin sat straighter, leaning closer and whispering, “I want to know who killed her.”
Chen Jiu sighed inwardly. The girl looked soft, but stubborn to a fault. She cared nothing for facts, only sought a culprit.
“I can do the divination,” Chen Jiu said, “but this kind of life-and-death reading is expensive. It takes great spiritual effort.”
Xu Xin nodded eagerly. She rummaged through her bag, pulling out bank cards and savings books, taking a deep breath.
“I can pay.”
She had come fully prepared. The money was her house down payment from her parents, plus all her years of savings her entire life fortune. She had steeled her heart: as long as Chen Jiu was genuine, she would pay any price within her means.