Maybe they're exceptionally gifted, maybe they're just lucky, but nothing too outrageous. They still have to grind it out, step by step, to transform and grow, to break out of their cocoons and become dragons soaring through wind and rain. They're seeds sown by fate, carrying endless possibilities. But they're not the only seeds—there are plenty more. Only those who win after fierce competition can truly grow into towering trees.
But you," the old Taoist pointed at Susan Morrow, "You, ma'am, are the one who changed everything."
Me?" Susan Morrow reflected, "Was it that meeting gift...?
"I don't know what method you used, but you really did change their fate. Fate isn't supposed to be changeable, but you're wrapped up in great fortune and great karma—you're practically an outsider to this world. That's why you could rewrite their destiny."
"Let me put it this way: if ordinary 'seeds' have to run three steps," the old Taoist held up three fingers, then put one down, "their innate luck and their parents' blessings let them skip the first step."
Then he put down the second finger: "Your guidance triggered their hidden traits early. Just like that, they jumped from being 'twins' to becoming the 'Sun and Moon Divine Fetus'—they crossed the second step before they were even born. These two steps put them leagues ahead of tens of thousands, even millions of other seeds, almost at the finish line already."
They went from being wrapped in fortune to carrying the mandate of heaven. If before, it was like being born into a warlord's family in troubled times, now it's like being born as the crown prince in an age of peace." The old Taoist held up the last finger, speaking solemnly: "All that's left is one step. They only need to take one more step to reach their true destiny."
"Sounds pretty good, right?"
But unfortunately, the way of heaven is always balanced—gain always comes with loss. Forcefully changing fate means their luck hasn't fully risen, but calamity has already arrived. The whole family could've enjoyed happiness together, but now they have to face tragedy and separation. And that's just a tiny part of the Twins' Calamity." The old Taoist glanced at the couple walking away. "Plenty of crown princes die young. If they make it through this disaster, they're set for greatness. If not, it's ten deaths and no life."
No way!" Susan Morrow was shocked. She didn’t know anything about fortune, calamity, or destiny—her teachers were from Cambridge, not fortune-telling masters. But at least there was someone here to ask: "Is there any way to resolve it?"
"Hard, hard, hard." The old Taoist, like many of his peers, started by saying "hard" three times. "Even heaven-made fortune can flip; man-made fortune must bear great calamity. And that's not even counting the people who might be stirring up trouble behind the scenes."
Then... I'll take their place!" Susan Morrow blurted out, then hesitated, "Can I even do that?"
"Take their place?"
Yeah, put that calamity you mentioned on me instead!" Susan Morrow said without hesitation. "They could've had a happy, harmonious family, but things changed because of me. I have to take responsibility and bear this calamity for them! Sir, tell me, is it possible?"
"Heaven's Thread of Survival." The old Taoist nodded slowly. "It's possible."
"So what do I need to do? What should I do to block the calamity?"
"You... actually, you don't need to do much. You're special—if you want to block it, fate will respond on its own. But... you'd better try first." The old Taoist pointed at the bamboo slips on the table. "Take the Worst Lot and see how many you can pick up. Oh, and don't use any special powers—that's pointless. Just see how many you can take yourself. But let me remind you one last time: whether that girl can come back from the calamity depends on you, but if you really take away the Worst Lot, your own safety isn't guaranteed."
I made this mess, so I have to take responsibility!" Susan Morrow didn't hesitate and reached for the bamboo slips. Whoosh—the magical Worst Lot rolled up on its own, and with one grab, she took away a third of them. No matter how many times she tried, it was always just a third—never more, never less.
Looking at the two-thirds of the Worst Lot left, Susan Morrow got anxious: "What about the rest?"
As soon as she finished speaking, the old Taoist rolled up his sleeves, reached out, and—whoosh—also took away a third.
You?" Susan Morrow was surprised. "What are you..."
"Take someone's money, help them dodge disaster," the old Taoist said, pointing at the big pile of RMB set aside. "You gave me so much extra beyond the divination fee—of course I have to do a bit more. Besides, I'm also thinking about my hopeless apprentice... Anyway, enough about that. Now, look at the slips again—can you find any that aren't the Worst Lot?"
Susan Morrow reached in and rummaged around, delighted: "Yes! I found an Average Lot—'Little Luck!'"
"Average Lot—steady and safe. Good, we've found Heaven's Thread of Survival." The old Taoist flicked his finger, and the Average Lot burst into flames, instantly turning to blue smoke that drifted toward the couple. "This Average Lot is for the boy. He'll have a smooth, stable life—not too flashy, but with some luck. When the big calamity returns, his luck will surge again. And having this stability will give him the best foundation for his 'third step.'"
"What about the girl?"
The old Taoist pointed at the Worst Lot slips: "Isn't it obvious?"
"All of these... are hers?!"
"They're for both of them," the old Taoist shook his head. "No matter how much you try to block, you can't take away all the calamity. And as they say, after the worst comes the best—these disasters might just turn into their fortune, depending on their luck."
Bang, bang, bang—the Worst Lot slips all exploded, vanishing in a blink with not even a speck left behind.
"Alright, that's settled for the Sun and Moon Divine Fetus." The old Taoist swept up his robe and stood up. "But, ma'am, how about we talk business?"
Business?" Susan Morrow looked at the handful of Worst Lot slips. "You want to help me dodge disaster?"
You could say that, but that's not quite it." The Taoist reached out and actually took one of the Worst Lot slips from Susan Morrow's hand. "You've looked after other people's kids, but you should look after your own, too. If you agree to my request, I'll take this slip and give your child a thread of survival."
My child? I don't have a child! But if I do someday, I should think about them... Susan Morrow didn't hesitate and nodded hard. "Alright, what do I need to do?"
"You don't need to do anything, don't need to pay anything—the consequences are mine to bear." The old Taoist said solemnly, "All I need is for you to remember—remember our meeting today, remember what we said, and remember a certain image. Maybe you'll forget someday, but for now, focus all your attention on this moment and remember it well. Promise me, even in the endless future, even if we're separated by life and death, when you look back you'll remember this moment."