TRYMBPIETM 72: Mirror, Night, Snow Peak (35)

Fan Tao stared dazedly at the pearls scattered across the floor, and for a moment, it seemed like she experienced some kind of illusion—

She saw thin mist rising from the shattered pieces, dark and ominous, swirling into exaggerated, grinning faces in mid-air.

She felt a sense of familiarity with these faces but couldn’t recall where she had seen them before, shuddering involuntarily.

She truly couldn’t remember, but the smiles on these faces were so strange that it was clear they harbored ill intentions!

What were these faces planning? And who was the one who damaged her bracelet?

Fantao curled her legs back, her face drained of color, her lips turning a purplish hue as if deprived of oxygen.

This bracelet had come from her hometown, and it was extraordinary both in its significance to her and in the materials and craftsmanship involved.

She vaguely remembered her mother saying that this bracelet had been enshrined in the ancestral hall for decades.

Later, when their village moved, the bracelet was taken out and entrusted to someone keep it.

The first time Fan Tao saw the bracelet, she had an inexplicable fear of it.

Her mother, as if accustomed to it, had said directly, “Scared? It’s good that you’re scared.”

“This bracelet was personally crafted by the great shaman of the Puluo tribe, using materials specially treated with the secret methods of the Danlin tribe. Since the day it was made, it’s been anything but ordinary. If you’re not scared, I’d have to wonder if there’s something wrong with our family.”

Fan Tao hadn’t fully understood her mother’s words.

She just thought her mother and the entire village were a bit eccentric, and with the prophecies related to the Puluo tribe, life had felt suffocating.

She had made up her mind to escape such a life.

She was still under twenty at the time, full of youthful bravado.

Even though both her parents opposed her relationship with Chi Jianming, she somehow found the courage, motivated by a desire for revenge, to steal the bracelet and household registry, running away with him to another place.

Later, she married Chi Jianming and had their eldest son, Chi Xiaoyuan, and even secretly returned to the village once.

Her parents, having lost the bracelet due to negligence, had been burdened with guilt since the day she ran away. Over the years, their health deteriorated, and in the end, they passed away quietly.

Fan Tao briefly felt guilty for half a month, but eventually, she pushed the matter to the back of her mind.

Though she was saddened by her parents’ passing, their absence meant that no one could find her through certain means, which, in her mind, was even more important than their death.

Her mind began to turn, and even though she was still a bit afraid of the bracelet, she started secretly looking for someone who could alter it.

She searched for a long time until the Master they worshipped came to her door, and at last, she saw hope.

With the help of the Master, she used the bracelet as a medium to transfer the bad luck that might have affected her and her eldest son to her younger son.

Fan Tao didn’t feel that she had done anything wrong to her younger son.

She had given him life; wasn’t it only right for him to do something for her?

However, since she had treated her younger son this way, she naturally had been wary from the start that he might seek someone to break the spell.

Sadly, despite all her precautions over the years, in the end, the pearl bracelet that had represented safety and protection in her eyes still broke.

She knew this wasn’t a good sign, but she couldn’t determine how bad the situation she was about to face might be.

Would she be implicated when the Puluo tribe was exterminated, or…

Would the destruction of the bracelet result in a direct backlash?

And who was the one who damaged the bracelet’s spell?

Was it a cultivator with a grudge against the Master, or someone her younger son had found?

Or perhaps… was it her younger son himself?

Fan Tao’s gaze shifted, her heart filled with even more fear.

She subconsciously glanced at the broken chain on her wrist, suddenly unsure whether she should continue wearing the bracelet.

When the bracelet wasn’t broken, it protected her, but now that it’s damaged, it probably can no longer protect her and might even have the opposite effect.

Frantically uncertain, she picked up her phone, thinking of calling that master as for advice, but a voice unexpectedly rang out in her mind, continuously telling her that seeking the master’s help was useless.

To solve the problem of the backlash, she needed to return to the village to find a solution.

Furiously tightening her fingers, she squeezed the edge of her phone, her knuckles turning pale.

She muttered in a daze, “Return to my hometown? I remember, the place I lived when I was young… I think it was called LingHe Village… or was it XiHe Village…?”

……

Chi Qingzhou chatted briefly with Luo Ting about the past, realizing that Luo Ting wasn’t sure about his previous plans, so he decisively gave up on probing further.

He took out his phone to check the time and said with some frustration, “It’s already this late? If we don’t rest, we won’t have any energy tomorrow morning.”

Upon hearing this, Luo Ting immediately urged him to go to sleep.

Chi Qingzhou smiled and wished his friend goodnight before turning towards the resting area for the show crew.

On the way, he quietly called Xing Shuangzhan out.

Xing Shuangzhan leaned against him lazily and asked, “What do you need me to do?”

Chi Qingzhou blinked, his tone very obedient, “The altar we used before wasn’t cleaned up. If an ordinary person comes into contact with it, they might be in danger.”

His words were so kind that Xing Shuangzhan couldn’t help but touch the ends of Chi Qingzhou’s hair and softly agreed.

However, within Chi Qingzhou’s shadow, the system had a sudden sense of eerie fear.

It didn’t believe its host was purely kind-hearted and well-meaning.

In fact, it thought that while its host had a thousand wonderful qualities, kindness and obedience were definitely not among them.

The system couldn’t bear to imagine what its kind would face after death, so it simply curled up in a corner of Chi Qingzhou’s shadow, shutting itself off completely.

Neither Chi Qingzhou nor Xing Shuangzhan paid any attention to it.

Xing Shuangzhan escorted Chi Qingzhou back to the resting place and, after watching him lie down, left the shadow to retrieve the remains of system 66594 from the altar.

Chi Qingzhou lay down and played on his phone for about ten minutes before Xing Shuangzhan returned with the remains of system 66594.

Chi Qingzhou sat up, motioning for Xing Shuangzhan to return to his shadow.

However, Xing Shuangzhan paused, turned his head, and looked toward the outside of the camping tent.

“Who?”

A male voice came from outside the tent, speaking calmly while reciting a Buddhist chant.

“Monk Ji’e, I have come late at night. Please forgive me.”

The voice continued, “According to the agreement between Master Chi and my senior brother three years ago, I am here tonight to collect a special material on his behalf.”

Special material?

Chi Qingzhou was stunned for two seconds. Though nothing came to mind, his gaze instinctively shifted to the system remains in Xing Shuangzhan’s hands.

Was this the agreement from three years ago?