"
Chapter 2 Who Says We Have No Fate
Chapter Two: Who Says We Have No Fate
Whoosh.
The entire first-class cabin erupted into an uproar. Everyone turned to look at Ye Fusheng at once — *he* was the important figure?
He Yuting was thunderstruck, as though she'd seen a ghost. This guy had just walked out of prison — how had he turned into a big shot overnight?
"Me?"
Ye Fusheng was equally surprised — in his memory, he had no friends in Jinhai.
The flight attendant smiled sweetly and said, "That's right, it's you, please…"
After a brief moment of thought, Ye Fusheng descended from the plane under the awed gazes of all those around him, walked into the airport, and immediately spotted a heavyset middle-aged man striding briskly in his direction.
Stepping forward with a bow, he said: "I am Xu Sandao, Hall Master of the Thirteenth Hall of the Divine Dragon Palace, and I welcome Mr. Ye to Tianhai!"
If the people of Tianhai had witnessed this scene, they would have been utterly shocked — this Xu Sandao was none other than the underground emperor of Tianhai, Xu the Dragon King.
Of course, others only knew him as Xu the Dragon King—none suspected he was the Thirteenth Hall Master of Shenzhou's shadowy organization, the Divine Dragon Hall.
The Divine Dragon Hall?
Ye Fusheng finally pieced it together: Little Earthworm, who had scrubbed his toilet every day back in prison, had once mentioned founding a Dragon Hall of overwhelming power, and was even its Hall Master. If nothing else had gone wrong, it must have been the prison warden who leaked the news.
He smiled and shook his head — these people would stop at nothing when it came to flattery.
He said casually, "Have everyone withdraw, and take me to find Huangfu Qing."
After he left.
The passengers finally began to leave, talking nonstop among themselves, with only one topic on their lips — just who was Ye Fusheng?
He Yuting walked at the rear, her mind unsettled as she replayed the scene that had just unfolded.
Seeing the flight attendant was still there, he quickly produced the gift and lowered his voice. "This is a small token of my appreciation. Could you tell me — who exactly is this Mr. Ye Fan? And who are the people that shut down the airport?"
The flight attendant, upon seeing the gifts, replied: "I have no idea who Mr. Ye is, and I don't know anything about the people who sealed off the airport either—but from what I've heard, it sounds like they were all wearing the same Zhongshan suits."
To convey a sense of solemnity, Xu Sandao naturally could not have everyone dressed in a riot of colors, so they all wore matching attire.
"A Zhongshan suit?"
He Yuting grew even more puzzled. No department's uniform was a Zhongshan suit — could it be that…
Her eyes lit up — could this fellow be an escaped convict? The men in Zhongshan suits were concealing their identities in order to apprehend him.
Yes, it must be so.
……
West Suburb Manor.
"Why are there so many people at the entrance?"
Ye Fusheng sat in the car, staring at the dozens of people gathered outside the gate, and asked in bewilderment.
These people were mostly between their twenties and thirties, with a few in their forties and fifties.
"You don't know?"
Xu Sandao had assumed that being summoned here by name meant he already knew the situation, but seeing from his expression that he truly did not, he explained the matter from the beginning.
It turned out that Huangfu Qing, daughter of Huangfu Hai—the wealthiest man in the land—had contracted a mysterious illness a year ago. She was afflicted with an overwhelming need for sleep: at first, she required more than twelve hours of sleep each day, and later she was awake for only two hours a day.
Until falling into a coma a month ago — and has not woken up to this day.
Xu Sandao went on, "Word has it that Huangfu Hai recently invited a great master, and the master said Huangfu Qing is afflicted with lovesickness, waiting for her destined one to awaken her. That's why every unmarried man in the city has come!"
"It has already entered the final stage — just half a month ago, this place was packed with people!"
Just then.
"The auspicious hour is upon us—open the gates!" The call rang out from the main entrance. The great doors swung slowly open, and dozens of men outside strode briskly in.
"You head back — I'll go take a look!"
Ye Fusheng pushed open the door, stepped out of the car, and walked in as well. He made his way through the estate and into the villa's living room—a vast space of nearly two hundred square meters, where dozens of people stood without feeling the slightest bit crowded.
Seated in the center of the sofa was a middle-aged man, his face etched with exhaustion — none other than Huangfu Hai, the wealthiest man in the city.
Standing to the left was an elderly man robed in plain cloth, his bearing that of an immortal sage.
Standing to the right was a young man dressed head to toe in a bespoke suit, radiating an air of uncommon distinction.
"Perfected Zhu, please begin testing the destined ones." Huangfu Hai said feebly, having been drained to his last reserves by his daughter's illness over the past year.
The elder nodded and stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over each person's face in turn.
Muttered in an eerie, mystical drone: "The Northern Dipper stands proud and high, the Dipper turns and becomes the Gang, to sleep through the night invites ill omen, painted upon the western wall…"
After finishing the recitation, [they] said: "Now, everyone cut your finger and let a drop of blood fall into the bowl."
A servant stepped forward, carrying a tray on which sat a bowl and a small knife.
Everyone was eager to cut their fingers without delay—after all, Huangfu Hai had only this one daughter, and whoever became her other half would be set for life.
"Heh…"
Ye Fusheng couldn't help laughing at the sight of this procedure. He had initially planned to look into what it was all about, but seeing this, he lost all interest entirely—testing for a "destined one" simply came down to matching birth charts.
Testing with blood—what do you think this is, some kind of blood-drop kinship ritual?
"What are you laughing at!"
Huangfu Hai snapped irritably—already at his wit's end over his daughter's illness, and yet this man still had the audacity to smile.
Swoosh!
The others also looked toward Ye Fusheng.
Ye Fusheng stifled his laughter and said, "I'm laughing because this won't find the destined one at all—it'll only worsen the condition and send them into a coma. Though of course, draining the blood completely might do the trick. The stench alone would wake them up!"
"Grandstanding!"
The young man immediately fixed him with a cold stare. "How dare you comment on a patient's condition without cause, presuming to offer guidance — who do you think you are, some divine healer?"
"So it really is."
Ye Fusheng spoke with casual ease: "Snakeskin shed at Jingzhe, spring silkworms two years old, and the head of a rooster from the current year — simmered in May snow, and the remedy is guaranteed to take effect."
Although Huangfu Qing's condition was most likely the result of someone's deliberate interference, this prescription can still cure it.
"Nonsense!"
The young man grew more irate: "Where does snakeskin come from at the Awakening of Insects? How can spring silkworms survive the winter? And where does snow come from in May? Dare to talk such nonsense again, and I'll cut out your tongue."
"Uncle Huangfu, this man has been putting on a deliberate performance from the moment he stepped through the door — anyone can see he harbors crooked intentions. My recommendation: drive him out of the Huangfu household at once!"
Huangfu Hai's face was dark with displeasure. He, too, placed no faith in Ye Fusheng — renowned physicians from every corner of the land had failed to cure his daughter's illness. How could a prescription casually rattled off by some wet-behind-the-ears boy possibly succeed where they had not?
But, unwilling to give up any chance.
Slowly turned to look at Perfected Zhu, seeking his opinion.
Perfected Zhu let out a cold snort. "Nothing but the ravings of a scoundrel. Surely Mr. Huangfu has more discernment than that? One glance was all I needed to know — this man shares not a shred of fate with the young lady in this lifetime. Send him packing!"
Huangfu Hai felt a flicker of disappointment. "Throw them out," he said coldly.
Several bodyguards stepped forward swiftly.
"Wait!"
Ye Fusheng raised a hand to cut him off, his expression hovering somewhere between a smile and something else entirely. "Old Blind Man," he said, "how do you know that Huangfu Qing and I share no fate?"
At these words, everyone else burst out laughing—this fellow had failed to play to the crowd, and now he was trying to argue his way out of it!
"Silence! How dare you show disrespect to Perfected Zhu — you're courting death!" The young man was itching to fight.
"Insolent wretch!" Huangfu Hai's fury rose as well — this was the master they had invited to treat his daughter's illness, and such disrespect could not be tolerated.
Perfected Zhu raised a hand to signal the others to hold still, then fixed his gaze on Ye Fusheng and advanced step by step, his voice cold: "Though this old one lacks talent, I have studied the art for more than fifty years."
Enlightened at three, taken as a disciple at eight.
At sixteen, one glance seals your fate.
"The mysteries of yin-yang, feng shui, and the auspicious omens of divination — I can see through them all at a single glance. One look at your face tells me you and the young lady share no fate whatsoever. And you dare call me blind?"
Ye Fusheng picked up the marriage contract and held it before his eyes: "If you're not blind, open them and look — and you still call this no fate?"
Contents