A Staggering Encounter

“Master, what shall we do next?” Wan Sheng asked, watching Chen Xianzhi as he savored the fresh air.

“First, let’s go find Xunan and the others. I’ve been studying quite a few formations lately, and I must show off a bit. But first, have some cinnabar and yellow paper prepared for me,” Chen Xianzhi said with a hint of pride.

“All right, Master,” Wan Sheng replied cheerfully.

On the summer lake, pink lotuses bloomed freely, their emerald leaves gently swaying. Chen Xianzhi sat in a small pavilion by the water, facing the Lin brothers, Lin Qingjing and Lin Qingyu.

“So, how do you find the book I brought you?” Lin Qingjing opened his fan with a smug expression.

“Not bad, quite presentable,” Chen Xianzhi said, propping his head with one hand while examining the folding fan Lin Qingyu had just handed over.

Hearing this, Lin Qingjing knew that the young lord was pleased with the book.

“By the way, didn’t you say you’d show us some tricks? Why haven’t you started yet?” Lin Qingyu sipped his tea, excitement barely contained.

Just as Chen Xianzhi was about to respond, Wan Sheng came running over, holding cinnabar, a brush, and yellow paper.

“Of course, watch me work my magic,” Chen Xianzhi said, taking the brush. He bent slightly forward, his long ponytail falling to his waist, his slender waist taut and strong.

He lowered his head in deep thought, brows furrowing slightly. Suddenly, his expression turned serious as he began to draw.

The brush danced in his hand like twisting dragons and serpents. His focus deepened, and soon a faint golden glow appeared on the talisman.

Chen Xianzhi parted his lips, softly chanting an incantation. The yellow talisman floated in midair, then suddenly transformed into a jet of water, shooting forward.

Lin Qingjing and Lin Qingyu stared in astonishment. They had thought the book was a mere trick, but it turned out to be genuinely powerful.

Still stunned, they nodded in admiration of Chen Xianzhi’s display.

Seeing the water jet, Chen Xianzhi’s confidence soared. He drew all the talismans he remembered, and miraculously, each one worked perfectly.

However, when it came to the last talisman—the summoning talisman—no matter how many times he tried, it refused to respond.

As the day waned, after bidding farewell to the Lin brothers, Chen Xianzhi tried several more times in vain and finally gave up.

Back in his room, he sat at his desk, poring over the book to find where he had gone wrong. Picking up a cup of tea, he prepared to take a sip, but the cup was too hot and slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor with a crisp sound.

Hurriedly, Chen Xianzhi checked the talisman to make sure it was unharmed. Luckily, it was intact. Suddenly, a spark of inspiration struck him. He picked up a shard of the broken cup, lightly scraped his fingertip to draw some blood, and smeared it onto the talisman.

Ignoring the tiny wound, he watched the talisman expectantly. Time stretched on, but still, the talisman showed no reaction. Resigned, he gave up.

Just then, Wan Sheng returned with hot water. Seeing the broken cup, he exclaimed, “Master, what happened?”

“It’s nothing. I accidentally broke it. You can clean it up later,” Chen Xianzhi replied, a touch of melancholy in his voice.

“All right, Master. You go freshen up first. I’ll tidy up soon,” Wan Sheng said softly, noticing Chen Xianzhi’s gloom.

“Mm,” Chen Xianzhi nodded and stood, heading toward the bath.

As he turned, the talisman suddenly radiated a white light, with a flicker of golden brilliance.

Having finished washing, Chen Xianzhi stepped back into the room and immediately sensed something different.

Inside, by the desk, stood a woman draped in flowing white silk, her figure slender and graceful. She seemed to notice him and turned her head. Her skin was like snow, her black hair glossy, her brows cool and refined, and her eyes deep and ancient like glass.

Chen Xianzhi’s breath caught. Before this ethereal woman, his heart skipped a beat. He was stunned, unsure what had just happened, and paid no mind to the water still dripping from his hair.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” he asked, regaining his composure.

“My name is Shi Xu. I have come in response to your summoning,” she said, her red lips parting. Her voice was as silent and pure as falling snow, clear and serene.

Chen Xianzhi was momentarily speechless, puzzled since he had thought his earlier efforts had failed. What could this mean?

As if sensing his confusion, she calmly explained, “It is your blood that drew me here.”

Chen Xianzhi was at a loss for words. Time seemed to stand still in that moment.

He looked up at the goddess before him—pure and flawless, like snow atop a distant mountain, untouchable by worldly dust.

His gaze met Shi Xu’s eyes, filled with compassion and tranquility. At that instant, an unbreakable bond seemed to form between them.