16 Why not try divination?

By canceling a loan, Fu Qin took the initiative to ease the tension with Cui Huai. The small sum was nothing to fuss over; he thought of it simply as making a friend.

There was no morning lesson today, so even though he was delayed a bit seeking out Cui Huai, Fu Qin still managed to inspect the saplings earlier than usual.

Thanks to his meticulous care and Cui Huai’s non-interference, the phoenix trees had thrived well these past days. Just yesterday, he had carefully nourished them with wood spirit energy; the roots and stems were growing increasingly strong, each sapling standing tall and upright.

Despite being his first time planting trees, Fu Qin had done an excellent job.

But upon reaching the grove, his open heart and leisurely stroll vanished completely.

The saplings that had stood straight yesterday now leaned askew. A gust of wind had blown through overnight, and though the trellises Cui Huai had constructed were as fragile inside as they looked outside, they were no help. Yet, with the Pure Serenity Bell stationed there, ordinary winds should not have disturbed trees protected by a magical artifact.

When Fu Qin examined the artifact’s spot, he found only a small pit in the soil—the mark where the bell had rested. But the Pure Serenity Bell itself had vanished without a trace.

Who? Who had stolen his bell?

Losing a magical artifact might not be a grave matter, but indirectly damaging the fruits of his labor in this entire grove was significant.

He was determined to find the thief.

The entire Carefree Sect was full of trivial, insignificant things; combined, they wouldn’t be worth one of his robes. Such a poor sect attracting an outside thief? Impossible.

Moreover, the Pure Serenity Bell was small and exquisite, highly concealable. Finding it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Who else knew he had placed a magical artifact here?

His mind quickly settled on one person—

Cui Huai!

Only she knew about the bell’s presence here; after all, he had placed it right under her watchful eyes.

Suddenly, Fu Qin recalled the conversation between Cui Huai and Jiang Xuan on their way back. Under Jiang Xuan’s questioning, Cui Huai had detailed her strategy and how she had ensnared a disciple from the Lost Trace Pavilion.

Cui Huai had said, “I just used a tiny fraction of my wit, whispered a few words to provoke Lin Fengyang, and he flew into a rage, striking violently. Everyone around saw him as despicable and shameless.”

Jiang Xuan retorted, “Is there really such a thing as whispering in the cultivation world? I thought cultivators had keen ears and eyes and could hear everything, no matter how softly spoken. Junior Sister, you have no spiritual power yet, but you can speak without others overhearing? Teach me your secret so I won’t get caught whispering in class.”

Before Cui Huai could explain, Master Qingyan interjected, “Jiang Xuan! Do you need me to remind you that whatever you say, I can hear it?”

Amid the noise, Zhao Zhixu worriedly asked, “You’ve basically made an enemy of Lin Fengyang. Cultivators live long lives; what will you do if he seeks revenge later?”

Cui Huai grasped Zhao Zhixu’s hand, her tone wildly confident: “Senior Sister, don’t worry. If Lin Fengyang dares to come after me again, I’ll beat him back every time. One visit, one thrashing; once he’s subdued, he’ll stop. Even if one day he surpasses me and knocks me down, I’ll accept it humbly. But judging by his cowardly demeanor, even after ten lifetimes, he won’t defeat me.”

At the time, Fu Qin thought her words overly arrogant.

He had once been as prideful as Cui Huai, unmatched from elders to juniors in Phoenix Valley, so praised by others that he lost himself, believing no one in the cultivation world could defeat him.

Now, in this shabby third-rate sect, even a penniless junior sister could outmatch him.

In countless contests, he lost more than he won, worrying so much he began to lose feathers. If even the strongest of the Phoenix Clan was so weak, what future did their tribe have?

Just as his strength began to recover and he won a few matches, before he could savor the joy, his junior sister surged ahead, pressing a sword to his neck.

Clearly, one must not be overly confident; it leads to ignorance and unrealistic self-assessment.

After days of confusion, doubt, pain, and reflection, tossing and turning, he had matured considerably. Yet this junior sister had yet to awaken from her dream, still believing she was the strongest in the world.

---

Putting aside Cui Huai’s excessive confidence, was she really saying she provoked that Lost Trace disciple with words no one else heard?

How could an uninitiated mortal achieve that?

As Jiang Xuan’s catchphrase goes, there is only one truth!

Cui Huai must have taken his Pure Serenity Bell.

Again, it was her!

***

Cui Huai had intended to sneakily return the bell, but from afar she saw Fu Qin standing in the grove, his back radiating resentment.

She was caught.

Taking a deep breath—perhaps akin to the saying “a flea on you is not itchy, many fleas not worrying”—she smiled brazenly and greeted him, “Senior Brother, what a coincidence! We just parted, and here we meet again.”

Fu Qin turned around. Cui Huai couldn’t help but admire his face—though this third senior brother had a temper, his cold expression only made his features more imposing.

Fu Qin pointed to the small pit where the bell had rested. “Cui Huai, did you steal my magical artifact?”

“It’s borrowed! Senior Brother, calling it stealing is harsh. I was just about to return it,” she said, bending to place the Pure Serenity Bell back in its place. “See? It’s back where it belongs.”

Only after returning the artifact did Cui Huai look closely at the grove.

Each tree had its own character; while their nature was to grow straight upward, they also spread out somewhat in different directions.

In short, the damage was done—the morning wind had blown the trees askew.

Though the tilt wasn’t severe enough to threaten their lives, Fu Qin was a particular man.

As per Jiang Xuan’s words, he was “obsessive-compulsive.”

Previously, Jiang Xuan couldn’t quite define Fu Qin’s ailment, but upon hearing that term, she thought nothing fit better.

His hair was always impeccable, his robes spotless without a crease. Pages aligned perfectly with the desk edge. He bought everything in pairs for symmetry...

Cui Huai could only think that luckily this senior brother had plenty of spirit stones; if he were poorer, he couldn’t solve these trivial matters by throwing spirit stones at them. Without an opponent to fight, he would just torment himself.

After all, to hurt him, all one had to do was prevent him from changing into two identical sets of robes each day.

So these crooked trees were a huge deal in Fu Qin’s eyes!

And Cui Huai, the culprit causing all this, was about to face a tempest of wrath.

This matter was certainly her fault; she took the bell without asking. She hadn’t expected the saplings to be fine all those days, but after the bell’s absence just one morning, they all suffered.

“Senior Brother, I should have asked to borrow the artifact first. This is my fault. But I truly wanted to visit the Lost Trace Pavilion secretly, so I didn’t ask, to avoid making it known to everyone.”

Cui Huai was proud but admitted her mistakes and was willing to take responsibility.

“Yes, Junior Sister, you’re so capable. You didn’t involve anyone from the Carefree Sect and resolved this matter alone. How impressive. Oh wait, after all the twists and turns, the only one injured is my saplings.” Hearing her apology, Fu Qin still looked displeased.

After these days, Fu Qin knew exactly what kind of person Cui Huai was—

Quick to admit wrongs, but whether she changed was uncertain.

---

“I’m at fault, but since it’s come to this, how would you have me make amends?” Cui Huai said frankly, willing to make it right. Then, considering her lack of money, she added, “Besides compensation, you know I only have one coin on me, used for divination. How about I read your fortune? People used to line up for my readings, but I never obliged.”

Fu Qin didn’t believe in this “rare reading.” This junior sister was always full of hot air.

Last time, she confidently told him she had once been wealthy and would never default on debts.

Still, Fu Qin decided to let her read his fortune—not out of faith in her ability, but to see what nonsense she would spout next.

After he nodded, Cui Huai asked, “What would Senior Brother like to know?”

He meant to ask about his cultivation path, but catching the depth and calm in her eyes, he changed his mind on a whim: “Tell me about my love life.”

“I didn’t expect Senior Brother to be so sentimental, worrying about romance at such a young age instead of focusing on cultivation.”

Fu Qin replied, “If you don’t want to read, just convert the sapling money into spirit stones and return it.”

At the mention of spirit stones, Cui Huai immediately stopped teasing and took out a plain, old copper coin, round outside and square inside.

“Senior Brother, open your hand.”

She placed the coin in his palm, cool compared to the phoenix’s body heat.

“Now, close your hands and shake the coin a few times in your palm.”

Fu Qin obeyed; the coin bounced lightly within his hand.

“Open your hand again.”

Cui Huai took the coin, and as it left his palm warmed by the phoenix’s heat, her fingertip brushed it ever so slightly.

Fu Qin felt an odd tingling in his palm. While she tossed the coin into the air, he quietly clenched and unclenched the hand that had held the coin until the strange sensation passed.

The coin fell back into Cui Huai’s hand. She closed her eyes, murmured a few words, then opened them with a hint of schadenfreude.

“All done.”

“That’s it?” Fu Qin had never seen such a simple and hasty divination method.

“Yes, the most supreme fortune-telling doesn’t bother with illusions. I see Senior Brother’s fate is troubled by love calamities, a flourishing romantic aura, love unfulfilled, and emotional entanglements. You must be very cautious,” Cui Huai said with pity, imagining such an extraordinary beauty enduring such hardships in love.

Fu Qin showed no expression. “Junior Sister, with your divination skills, how do you dare to roam about and deceive others?”

Before leaving the valley, the elder had worried about Fu Qin encountering love calamities during his weak period, so he had sought a fortune from the millennium-old mystical turtle of the demon realm. The turtle’s verdict was firm: “Fu Qin, you need not worry on this journey; no love calamities await.”

Before the elder could rejoice, the turtle added, “Because your fate holds no romance.”

Hearing this, unlike the elder’s somber face, Fu Qin was indifferent. Having no romance was simpler.

But now, Cui Huai’s reading claimed he was not only afflicted with romantic trials but also emotionally trapped.

Her conclusion was not just off—it was the polar opposite of the millennium turtle’s.

The ancient turtle was surely accurate; Cui Huai, as usual, was just spouting nonsense again!