After My Thoughts Were Read, My Master Led Me to Change My Fate - Chapter 28

Sinful, sinful, Elder Ran’s eyes are much larger than this.

No, at the very least, I cannot let the sword be taken.

The first to strike gains control; the last to strike is controlled by others.

Ning Songwu had no idea such a conversation was happening at home, and Qian Duoduo didn’t dare disturb his young Senior Uncle while she was on a rare vacation.

She was currently looking at the script for the MV.

The story was simple: a Senior Sister teaches a Junior Sister her craft and accompanies her through her growth, only for their paths to eventually diverge. It wasn’t long, and the storyboard provided by Fang Qing was very concise—dancing with swords, drinking together, traveling together, and finally, their sword tips pointed at one another.

It seemed Fang Qing just happened to have such a song on hand and decided to call the two of them to test their “CP chemistry.”

Swiping her finger across the screen, Ning Songwu began to visualize how the two of them should pose for these movements. Ran Fanyin’s pretty face once again occupied her mind.

Some people, the moment they appear, occupy your entire field of vision.

Ms. Ning didn’t often share her life on Weibo, but this time, she posted a few photos of the dishes she had taken that day at the hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Her caption read: City B Food Rankings authentic and reliable. I’ll be back next time.

She suppressed the urge to tag Ran Fanyin, exited the app, and turned off the screen.

When I come back next time, can I get Ran Fanyin to call me “Sister” as well?

The next stop of the journey wasn’t chosen at random; after a night of insomnia, Ning Songwu bought a plane ticket to Xincheng.

She didn’t bring her assistant this time either.

Yuan Qiao’s voice on the other end of the phone carried a hint of sorrow. “Boss, am I about to become unemployed?”

“How could that be? Haven’t we had a vacation as long as two months before? I’ll be back next week.” Ning Songwu’s voice was warm, yet it lacked a bit of intimacy.

A cold detachment was her usual state when facing others; otherwise, she wouldn’t have been labeled by netizens as a “Banished Immortal” who occasionally falls to the mortal realm.

Ning Songwu didn’t dare claim that title. Given her current cultivation, if she recklessly stepped forward to accept such a name, she would likely be struck by lightning.

However, on this trip to Xincheng, she truly intended to seek out a “True Immortal.” This person’s cultivation was two realms higher than hers and three hundred years older; she had to address them as “Immortal Master.”

Before considering whether Ran Fanyin was her “destined partner,” she first had to investigate where that familiar aura on the girl came from. That aura was not of the mortal world; regardless of what it was, she had to maintain a degree of caution.

The plane traveled west, landing in a small city on the edge of the desert.

The blazing sun scorched the already dry air. Though it was only mid-May, the air was hot enough to cause slight discomfort. Even Ning Songwu, who lived with lightning every day, disliked this place where the dryness made it easy to create static electricity through friction.

It was too dry—so dry her face hurt.

Ning Songwu followed the crowd for a while before turning into a side alley. After several twists and turns, she finally stopped in front of a shop in a remote corner.

It was the same as always; the signboard was written in ugly characters: Jin Chen Photocopying and Printing. If a print shop built here actually had customers, it would be a miracle.

She dared to insult the shop owner like this because even though the owner was three hundred years older, they were of the same generation in terms of seniority. It couldn’t be helped; her own “old man” held high seniority and was quite old, only taking her as a disciple when he was nearing his passing. Naturally, her seniority became high.

Ning Songwu knocked on the door in the agreed-upon manner. No one answered for a long time. She stood silently for a while before a response came from inside.

“Master is not seeing anyone today. Fellow Daoist, please return.”

“Ning Songwu of the Qingyun Sect pays her respects. Please have the disciple announce it once more.”

An audible gasp came from behind the door. A moment later, it was still the same phrase: “Master is not seeing anyone today. Senior Uncle Ning, please return.” A hint of regret could be heard in the tone.

“Fine. Tell Jin Chen that I will be in Xincheng for three days. One day must be set aside for me. When you are free, send me a voice transmission.”

“Senior Uncle Ning, please wait!” The door to the print shop was opened. A girl who looked to be fourteen or fifteen years old looked at her with a face full of anticipation. “Senior Uncle Ning, can you give me an autograph?”

Ning Songwu looked down. The girl was holding a stack of photos, upon which lay a brush with gold trim.

“Does your Master know you’ve taken this brush to ask for autographs?”

Ning Songwu’s lips carried a smile; it was very different from the coldness seen online, yet also not so different. The young girl tilted her head, trying hard to find an adjective in her mind, but she hadn’t read enough books yet and couldn’t find a suitable word.

Ning Songwu picked up the brush, examined it for a moment, took the stack of photos, and prepared to write.

“Wait.”

Another young girl lifted the door curtain and walked out. A black cloth covered her eyes, yet her walking was completely unaffected. She walked straight to Ning Songwu, handed her an ordinary black pen, and took away the gold-trimmed brush.

“Senior Uncle Ning should use this instead.”

“A ‘Heavenly Deficient’? Are you the primary disciple of this generation?”

“I am Xu Yueping. Greetings, Senior Uncle Ning.” The girl bowed formally. Ning Songwu smiled and was about to speak when the girl cut her off: “You held me when I was a child; that was already twenty years ago. There is no need to mention it again.”

The woman raised her head slightly, understanding the situation.

“Indeed a primary disciple. Where is Jin Chen?”

“Master is busy, and this disciple is clumsy. Please forgive the poor hospitality, Senior Uncle.”

“No matter. I will stay in Xincheng for three days. Yueping, do you think I will get the answer I seek?”

Xu Yueping stiffened slightly. “This disciple does not know.”

Ning Songwu didn’t continue the conversation. She signed the names one by one; her handwriting was beautiful, looking even better next to that face in the photos.

After finishing the signatures and handing the items back to the little one, she straightened her body, her voice carrying a warm pressure:

“In the path of destiny, one either does not know or does not hide.”

“This disciple does not know,” Xu Yueping repeated the same phrase.

Ning Songwu didn’t push her further. Instead, she raised her hand to cast a barrier over the girl. “This can block a few strikes during a heavenly punishment.”

“Thank you, Senior Uncle.”

“Don’t thank me. I’ll be in Xincheng for a week. You can think about it carefully.”

“Yes.”

That Night.

Ning Songwu had booked a hotel in a location where she could look out at the sky above that print shop. She held a tablet computer, which was currently playing the script for Double Dreams. It was set to auto-play, slowly scrolling upward on the screen.

When the thunder roared, the script happened to be at the part where Hu Xin’er was being chased by lightning for taking a healing herb for Bai Qixin, her tail fur charred black.

“You miserable Heaven! What’s wrong with taking one of your herbs? If you have the guts, strike me again!” Hu Xin’er stood with one hand on her hip, the herb tucked into her belt, while the other hand pointed at the sky in a loud curse.

The Heavens did not disappoint her expectations; a bolt of lightning struck directly beside her.

Ning Songwu smiled, and after projecting Ran Fanyin’s face onto the character, she wanted to laugh even more.

She absent-mindedly counted the thunderclaps outside. As the ninth bolt of lightning prepared to descend, she held up her phone and captured a photo at the perfect moment, showing the sky lit up like day. She then posted her second daily Weibo of the month with the caption: The weather forecast said there would be no rain in Xincheng lately. I ran into thunder on my first day here; it seems my luck is quite good [Flower].

After the thunder, rain fell from the sky, bringing a night of moisture to this dry land.

However, a certain person currently lying in her own courtyard, gasping for breath, did not enjoy the rain following the heavenly punishment. She struggled to sit up and, using both hands and feet, crawled under the eaves.

“Still ‘do not know’?”

Xu Yueping curled the corner of her mouth, feeling weak.

“Does Senior Uncle Ning want me to be struck to death by lightning tonight?”

A light chuckle came from her sea of consciousness, followed by silence.

This person was truly strange. Despite having such a cold and indifferent face, her habit of teasing people was exactly the same as that old woman in her own house.

Xu Yueping rested for a while longer, removed the tattered black cloth from her face that had been charred by the lightning, and her grey, lightless eyes filled with moisture. After a few blinks, she simply closed them.

Ran Fanyin was wearing a mask and a baseball cap, her body hunched over as she held a sign Li Ke’er had repeatedly insisted she make.

It was so “socially dead,” everyone. The sign had a large photo of Li Ke’er’s face on it, with “I will love Li Ke’er forever” written below. Anyone who didn’t know better would think this was a crazed fan of some minor idol.

Passersby more or less threw curious glances her way, some even looking several times. Ran Fanyin could only hunch her shoulders further, trying to minimize her presence.

It would be too funny if she trended today because of this.

Li Ke’er saw the conspicuous sign from afar and came running over with her suitcase. Only when she was close did she happily whisper Ran Fanyin’s name.

She was met with a solid eye-roll.

Ran Fanyin stuffed the sign into her arms and took the suitcase from her. “Is someone picking you up?”

“No, and my parents aren’t home today. I don’t have the keys.”

Ran Fanyin sighed helplessly. “Fine, come to my place.”

“I love you to death, my dear Fanyin.”

Ran Fanyin made dinner. She considered herself a good cook, stir-frying a few dishes and setting them on the table before calling Li Ke’er, who had just finished showering, to eat.

“Ah, I’m so happy. A big star is washing her hands to make soup for me~”

“Don’t use those words incorrectly.”

Ran Fanyin rolled her eyes and untied her apron, hanging it to the side.

“Fanyin, is your show not filming anymore? Or did you take leave specifically for me?”

“The filming stopped; the director ran into some issues. No gossip to share, don’t look at me like that.”

Li Ke’er retracted her gaze resentfully, picked up a piece of braised pork, and stuffed it into her mouth with rice. She then let out a satisfied sigh toward the ceiling: “So fragrant! Fanyin, if you don’t want to act anymore, you could open a restaurant!”

“We’ll see.” Ran Fanyin’s profile flushed slightly, though her tone remained normal.

“Oh right, I saw that you and Ning Songwu followed each other! And she was in City B last week, tell me everything!”

“Mm, I did meet her.”

The girl curled into a rather proud smile and beckoned with her finger. “Want to know? Tomorrow is Thursday; V me 50 (Transfer me 50 RMB).”

“Ahhhh, tell me quickly, was she like a goddess!”

Ran Fanyin thought for a moment, then nodded gently. “Yes, like a goddess.”

Li Ke’er’s excited expression calmed down as she sighed and patted Ran Fanyin’s shoulder. “It’s been hard on you.”

“What?”

“Well, the internet says Teacher Ning is very hard to approach, like a human refrigerator, always keeping people a thousand miles away. You have to collaborate with someone like that next; it’s truly hard on you!”

Ran Fanyin struggled to press down the corners of her mouth. In her mind, she recalled Ning Songwu’s warmth and gentleness during those few days, and that mischievous smile—she pressed down the corners of her mouth even harder, then nodded heavily.

“You’re right. It’s been very hard on me.”

Master is still sick, yet she’s out in the cold wind again…

Even with her power suppressed, Master’s muscle memory is still there; she’s definitely stronger than me. Boohoo…

Learn first, then create—is that what it means? Innovating on the basis of what has been learned, constantly improving.

But, Master, could you change the phrasing? What do you mean by “give me a beating”…

Didn’t you say I’d be punished for being too well-behaved while saving people? Is it the same for fighting? Huh?!