We Weren’t Fated, I Just Played My Cards Right - Chapter 33

At that moment, the music from the speakers beside the stage changed to the chime of a clock.

The bell tolled eight times—it was exactly eight in the evening.

Zhuo Ran raised the cards in her hand toward Xue Lan, her gaze shifting to Xu Anze, who stood behind Xue Lan and was about to step forward. Her eyes carried a warning.

Xu Anze met her gaze for a few seconds before retracting his outstretched hand and quietly retreating from the crowd.

Zhuo Ran turned her attention back and smiled at Xue Lan. “It’s your turn to draw.”

Xue Lan reached out. Just as her fingers were about to touch the card, Liu Mumu, who had been standing beside her, suddenly placed a hand on her shoulder.

In the brief moment Xue Lan was stunned, Liu Mumu had already drawn the chosen card for her.

It was a joker, but unlike the ones they had seen before. This card showed a figure in a princess dress holding an umbrella, one index finger raised to her lips in a silencing gesture.

Liu Mumu looked at the card in her hand. “How strange—there’s an extra joker. Don’t you think the joker in this card looks a bit like you?”

She turned the card toward Zhuo Ran.

…

On the second floor of the hotel, directly facing the card table area below, was a small conference hall. By now, all the tables and chairs inside had been cleared away. Zhuo Ran’s uncle, who had greeted guests with her earlier, sat cross-legged in the center of the room, dressed in a strange white robe with red patterns.

The floor of the hall was covered in bizarre, snake-like symbols drawn in bl00d of unknown origin.

In front of him stood an altar. On either end of it sat straw dolls, dressed in the same outfits that Zhuo Ran and Xue Lan were wearing that day.

Beside the dolls were red cloth bundles containing strands of their hair, nails, and birthdates.

In the middle of the altar, aside from an incense burner, there was a bowl filled with a thick, dark-red liquid.

The man stood up and pulled a white thread from the sleeve of his robe. The thread was semi-transparent and elastic.

He soaked this thread in the bowl on the altar.

After a moment, the white thread was dyed a deep red, and the man lifted it out.

Then, he tied it around the wrists of the two straw dolls.

At that moment, a rhythmic knock sounded at the door. The man lifted his head, his cold gaze fixed on the door as he hissed like a warning snake, “Who is it?”

“Mr. Xu, it’s me.”

“Come in.” The man who entered was dressed in the uniform of a hotel staff member. He carefully held a wooden box in his hands and respectfully presented it to the man addressed as Mr. Xu.

Mr. Xu casually raised his hand and opened the box. Inside lay three cards, identical in material to the new deck Zhuo Ran had just replaced.

The difference was that these three cards were all jokers, each with a distinct pattern.

One wore a mask, another held an umbrella, and the last had removed its mask, revealing a face identical to Zhuo Ran’s.

“I asked her to prepare the life-substitution items, and she came up with three cards?” Mr. Xu’s voice carried a hint of dissatisfaction.

The man cautiously offered an apologetic smile. “You know how girls are—they have these strange rituals. Rest assured, the young lady will definitely find a way to make the substitute willingly take one of these cards.”

The most crucial step in the life-substitution ritual was ensuring the substitute actively consented.

Taking something from another’s hand was tantamount to agreeing to trade away one’s own life.

Originally, Mr. Xu had planned to prepare gold and silver objects—items that had never failed throughout history when used to buy lives.

Who would have thought the Zhuo family girl would come up with such nonsense?

But since the Zhuo family had paid him handsomely for his help, he swallowed his discontent and said nothing more.

After delivering the cards, the man quickly left the meeting hall, closing the door tightly behind him.

Mr. Xu stepped forward to lock the door before returning to the altar.

He laid out the three cards one by one on the altar, wrapping each with the red silk thread that connected the two straw dolls.

With everything prepared, as eight chimes rang out downstairs, he lit three sticks of incense and placed them in the censer.

As he murmured incantations, the bowl on the altar trembled slightly, its dark-red liquid churning. The red silk thread tied to the two straw dolls tightened in response.

The incense burned at an unnatural speed, its pale-gray smoke defying logic by not rising upward but instead enveloping the straw doll representing Zhuo Ran.

His gaze remained fixed on the altar, waiting for one of the cards to be chosen.

In the next moment, the umbrella-holding joker card shifted slightly toward Xue Lan’s straw doll.

Before the smile could fully form on Mr. Xu’s lips, the card suddenly shattered as if crushed by an unseen force, exploding into countless fragments that shot out in all directions.

He had never anticipated such a turn of events. Dozens of shards embedded themselves in his face and body, while the altar he had painstakingly prepared split in two.

Clutching his chest, Mr. Xu felt a suffocating pressure. His vision darkened, and with a spray of bl00d, he collapsed to the ground.

Downstairs, after Liu Mumu took the card, Zhuo Ran’s expression turned extremely grim.

Her hand holding the remaining three cards trembled slightly with suppressed rage, but she forced herself to remain composed and said to Liu Mumu, “This is a game between me and Xue Lan. Please don’t interfere.”

Liu Mumu toyed with the seemingly special ghost card in her hand, her clear almond eyes glinting with mischief. “On Xue Lan’s behalf, I answer you—she disagrees.”

Zhuo Ran’s face stiffened.

But then Liu Mumu added, “Though it’s just a life exchange, if not hers, you can take mine. I agree.”

The surrounding crowd couldn’t understand what Liu Mumu was saying. The only one who did, Zhuo Ran, panicked and tried to stand up and leave. Yet the moment Liu Mumu’s words fell, Zhuo Ran’s body felt as if plunged into an icy abyss—her head throbbed painfully, a piercing ringing filled her ears, and bl00d trickled from her nose and eyes.

Her grip loosened, and the cards in her hand scattered across the floor. Among the three cards, two were ghost cards—switched at some unknown moment.

She collapsed unconscious onto the card table, sending the onlookers into a frenzy of screams.

With a crisp snap, the card in Liu Mumu’s hand split in two.

She casually tossed the broken ghost card aside and dusted off her hands with disdain. “With skills like these, you thought you could exchange lives? What a joke.”

Xue Lan turned stiffly toward Liu Mumu beside her. “M-Mumu, what do we do now?”

She seemed to grasp something—yet also nothing at all.

All three of their dormmates huddled close to Liu Mumu, staring at her expectantly.

“At a time like this, we obviously call the police.” Liu Mumu pulled out her phone and dialed emergency services. Having caused trouble, she naturally left the cleanup to the officers.

At 8 p.m., Fang Chuan, who had been enjoying a peaceful, case-free weekend, received an urgent call from headquarters.

A suspected special case had been reported at Yuehua Hotel, requiring his immediate presence.

By the time Fang Chuan and the rest of the Special Cases Division—along with consultant Yan Xiu—arrived at the hotel, officers who had responded earlier had already cordoned off the scene.

An ambulance stood parked outside, yet to depart.

Fang Chuan flashed his badge before finally gaining entry.

The hotel lobby was packed with dozens of people, all in their early twenties.

After the initial commotion, the crowd craned their necks curiously toward the card table, where two officers stood guard, barring anyone from approaching.

A team of medics in hazmat suits surrounded Zhuo Ran, who had collapsed without warning.

“Where’s the victim?” Fang Chuan asked quietly, turning to one of the first responders from the local precinct.

“The victim’s still on the table. The ambulance arrived, but the situation’s too unusual—they haven’t moved her yet.”

“Victim’s identity?” Fang Chuan pressed as he walked.

“Zhuo Ran, a freshman at Qingcheng Institute of Technology. She was hosting a birthday party here. Witnesses say she suddenly started bleeding from all orifices during a card game before passing out.”

“Zhuo Ran? Why so many people with that surname lately?” he muttered to himself.

Upon closer inspection, Fang Chuan understood why the medics were in hazmat suits.

Zhuo Ran’s condition was quite alarming. While everyone else’s bl00d was red, the bl00d flowing from her body was mixed with black, making it strikingly conspicuous.

Aside from bleeding from all seven orifices, her heart rate, breathing, and bl00d pressure all indicated she was perfectly normal—almost as if she were merely asleep.

Fang Chuan whispered a few words to the officer maintaining order beside him. The officer stepped forward to speak with the medical staff, and soon, they withdrew.

Yan Xiu approached, stopping a few steps away from Zhuo Ran.

A pool of bl00d had dripped from the table onto the floor.

Within that pool was a distinct streak of black. Fang Chuan wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he thought he saw the black streak moving.

“What’s going on here?” Fang Chuan asked in a hushed voice, low enough for only the two of them to hear.

“She’s been poisoned by a gu.”

“So someone cast a gu on her here?”

“No. She must have been poisoned for a long time. Normally, the gu would have adapted to her body and wouldn’t move around freely. What’s happening now is clearly an accident—the gu worm is running out of control.”

Yan Xiu put on gloves, stepped forward, and grabbed Zhuo Ran’s hair, exposing her face. He lifted her lower eyelid, revealing several black lines—proof that she had indeed been poisoned for a long time. It likely wasn’t a lethal gu worm.

“Where’s the shadow-revealing ointment Yan Ling gave you?”

Fang Chuan took out a small vial, dipped the attached cotton swab into the ointment, and handed it to Yan Xiu.

Yan Xiu pressed the swab against Zhuo Ran’s forehead, and immediately, a patch of black appeared.

“This is backlash from a failed ritual,” Yan Xiu concluded.

Just then, an officer from the investigation unit hurried over to Fang Chuan and whispered, “Captain, we found a conference room on the second floor set up like some kind of ritual site. But it looks like something went wrong—a middle-aged man passed out inside.”

“Handcuff him first, then get a doctor to check on him.”

The officer nodded in acknowledgment.

Once Yan Xiu had finished his examination, Fang Chuan asked, “Shall we go up and take a look? They found a ritual site upstairs.”

Yan Xiu and Fang Chuan went upstairs. The unconscious middle-aged man had been restrained with specialized handcuffs and moved to a corner.

He had merely vomited bl00d and fainted from some kind of shock, but his body was covered in numerous small, deep wounds with foreign objects embedded inside. A doctor was currently treating him.

Fang Chuan casually pressed the other end of the cotton swab against the man’s forehead—another patch of black appeared.

Yan Xiu remained silent. He stood in the center of the conference hall, stepping on eerie patterns as he surveyed the room. Finally, his gaze settled on the scattered objects on the floor.

Though the altar had split in two and the items on it were strewn haphazardly across the ground, a quick glance was enough to piece together most of the picture.

Two straw dolls tied together and dressed in clothes were soaked in a thick, dark-red liquid, giving them a somewhat sinister appearance.

“It’s a life-substitution ritual from the Grass Gu lineage.”

Before Fang Chuan could ask, Yan Xiu had already provided the answer.

Fang Chuan only knew about common metaphysical schools and had never even heard of the Grass Gu lineage, but he understood what life-substitution meant.

“So you’re saying the girl downstairs who suffered backlash, Zhuo Ran, was performing a life-substitution ritual, and this is the person conducting it?” Fang Chuan said with disgust, eyeing the well-dressed figure. “Looks human but does such heinous things.”

He pressed further, “Then who was her substitution target? What happened to them?”

Yan Xiu turned his head and said calmly, “You should also be concerned about who had the capability to disrupt a life-substitution ritual like this.”

Fang Chuan hesitated before replying, “A kind passerby?”

Yan Xiu refrained from mocking his naivety.

If it wasn’t a powerful metaphysician falling from the sky to resolve this matter, then there was only one other possibility.

Among the people they knew, there was only one person with such ability who could casually pass by.

Coincidentally, they had shared a meal at noon, and she had earnestly mentioned having important business to attend to in the evening.

Yan Xiu felt he already knew what kind of “important business” it was.

He didn’t shatter Fang Chuan’s illusion, letting him deceive himself for a while longer.

Zhuo Ran’s substitution target was quickly identified—it wasn’t hard to find. A glance at the surveillance footage revealed the last person she had contact with.

However, after reviewing the footage, the investigating officer hesitantly reported to Fang Chuan, “Captain, I just saw Liu Mumu in the surveillance footage.”

Fang Chuan: ??? You must be joking. Liu Mumu is a proper university student—she should be sleeping or playing games in her dorm at this hour.

The officer continued with a strange expression, “The person playing cards with Zhuo Ran was Xue Lan. We checked Xue Lan’s ID and found she shares the same birthday as Zhuo Ran. But the last person to have contact with Zhuo Ran was Liu Mumu. She drew a card from Zhuo Ran’s hand, and then the other girl collapsed.”

Fang Chuan: …

Fang Chuan: …

Why is Liu Mumu everywhere?!

“Bring both Liu Mumu and Xue Lan up. Find two empty meeting rooms—we’ll question them first.” Fang Chuan took several deep breaths to oxygenate his brain, preparing himself for the impending mental strain.

“What about the other university students downstairs? They’re all demanding to leave,” the officer asked.

“Have a few officers take their statements one by one. We’ll release them after everything’s clear.”

“Understood.”

Shortly after the officer left, he returned with Xue Lan and Liu Mumu.

Today, Liu Mumu still wore her hair in a bun, secured with a plush felt rabbit hair tie that swayed with her movements.

Fang Chuan and Yan Xiu first entered the room where Xue Lan was waiting. Xue Lan sat in a chair, her hands clenched nervously in her lap.

Seeing the officers enter, she quickly stood up.

“Miss Xue Lan, please sit.”

Fang Chuan spoke gently, “I have some questions for you. I hope you can answer truthfully.”

Xue Lan nodded.

“What is your relationship with Zhuo Ran?”

“We didn’t know each other before. It wasn’t until the end of the National Day holiday that I found out she grew up with my boyfriend. She was rushed to the hospital that day, and I went to see her the next day with my roommates.”

Fang Chuan raised an eyebrow—this relationship was rather complicated. “What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

“His name is Xu Anze.”

Fang Chuan noted the name down and continued, “You and Zhuo Ran share the same birthday. Did you know that?”

“She mentioned it yesterday when she invited me to her birthday party at the school cafeteria. Before that, I had no idea.”

“How do you think Zhuo Ran found out?”

Xue Lan lowered her eyes. “Probably my boyfriend told her.”

Though she didn’t fully understand what was happening, the police’s questioning and Liu Mumu’s unusual behavior were subtly hinting at something.

All of this likely had something to do with her and Zhuo Ran sharing the same birthday.

So, what role did Xu Anze play in all this?

Xue Lan was truly at a loss.

“Before the incident, Zhuo Ran had been playing a card-drawing game. Why did you join?” Fang Chuan pressed on.

“Zhuo Ran announced to everyone that we shared the same birthday and wanted a showdown between the two birthday girls. I happened to be pushed forward and didn’t refuse.”

“Can you describe what happened in the end?”

“We were playing Old Maid when Mumu stopped me and drew a card for me. As soon as she took the card, Zhuo Ran collapsed.”

Xue Lan answered truthfully.

“And your relationship with Liu Mumu?”

“She’s my roommate.”

At this point, Yan Xiu suddenly spoke up. “Has she ever told your fortune?”

Xue Lan stiffened, quickly glancing at Yan Xiu before looking away. “N-no.”

The two men exchanged a glance and sighed simultaneously.

This girl clearly wanted to protect Liu Mumu, but she shouldn’t have denied it outright.

The fact that she didn’t even seem curious about Liu Mumu’s fortune-telling abilities was the truly strange part.

Fang Chuan said, “Xue Lan, this case is unusual. I specialize in investigating these kinds of special cases. I need you to answer all my questions truthfully—it’s crucial for uncovering the truth.”

Xue Lan pressed her lips together and remained silent.

Seeing her reluctance, Fang Chuan didn’t push further. Instead, he stood up and said to Yan Xiu, “Let’s go meet our Master Liu.”

His familiar tone made Xue Lan glance at him a few more times.

After leaving Xue Lan, Fang Chuan entered the room where Liu Mumu was waiting.

She fidgeted restlessly in her chair, shifting left and right, or occasionally laying her head on the table.

It was clear she wasn’t the least bit nervous.

Fang Chuan sat down in the chair opposite her and let out a long sigh. “Master Liu, enlighten this poor soul—why are you here?”

Liu Mumu rested her chin on her fair-skinned arms, blinking up at Fang Chuan from where she lay sprawled across the conference table. “Accompanying my roommate to a birthday party for a suspected love rival.”

“Then, could you explain why said suspected love rival suddenly lost consciousness after you drew a card from her hand?”

“Who knows? Maybe she did too many bad things and got what was coming to her.”

Fang Chuan realized he probably wouldn’t get a straight answer out of Liu Mumu.

He switched tactics. “Zhuo Ran and your roommate Xue Lan were born on the same day—possibly even at the same time. Zhuo Ran performed a life-swapping ritual at the birthday party, attempting to exchange fates with your roommate. And you just happened to interrupt it.”

“Oh, really? What a coincidence,” Liu Mumu continued playing dumb.

Fang Chuan rubbed his temples in frustration before casting a pleading glance at Yan Xiu.

Yan Xiu gave a slight nod and took Fang Chuan’s seat after he stood up.

“When did you figure it out?” Yan Xiu cut straight to the point.

So annoying. Liu Mumu shot Fang Chuan a glare—using a handsome man as a distraction tactic?

Yan Xiu lounged casually in the chair, his dark eyes meeting hers. His striking face betrayed no emotion.

So good-looking, Liu Mumu thought.

So she answered obediently, “After the National Day holiday, we noticed Xue Lan’s boyfriend was acting suspiciously close to Zhuo Ran. At first, I just casually divined their romantic compatibility…”

Who knew the results would be anything but casual? Since she’d already uncovered it, taking action wasn’t much extra effort.

“Your roommate is Xue Lan?” Yan Xiu recalled Liu Mumu coming to them before, saying her roommate’s boyfriend might be a threat.

“That’s her.”

“Why didn’t you tell us when you discovered the problem?”

“You said you needed evidence. Back then, there wasn’t any.” Liu Mumu was utterly unapologetic.

“You could’ve called the police after arriving at the hotel,” Fang Chuan couldn’t help interjecting.

“Oh, I did call them.” She smiled sweetly—after everything was over.

Fang Chuan gave up.

“Fang Chuan, step outside for now,” Yan Xiu suddenly ordered.

Fang Chuan glanced at him but complied.

Once they were alone, Yan Xiu spoke again. “You interrupted a life-swapping ritual. According to protocol, I must report this truthfully to headquarters. Soon, investigators will come to verify your identity and assess your threat level. If possible, they’ll recruit you. If not, you’ll be placed under surveillance.”

Liu Mumu blinked in confusion—she hadn’t known that. And why was Yan Xiu telling her this?

“They’ll repeatedly question how you knew how to disrupt the ritual. How do you plan to answer?”

“I divined it.”

Yan Xiu leaned slightly forward. “How many fortune-tellers do you think can calculate to that extent? Didn’t your grandfather warn you against getting involved in these matters?”

Liu Mumu shook her head. Her grandpa had only been worried that after he was gone, no one would peel apples for her anymore.

She was somewhat dissatisfied with Yan Xiu’s questioning and muttered unhappily, “I was clearly trying to save someone.”

“I know.” Yan Xiu’s gaze softened slightly. “But ‘the knight-errant violates the law with martial prowess’—you should understand this principle.”

“So, are you planning to report me?”

Yan Xiu sighed. “Just this once. If there’s a next time…”

Liu Mumu initially wanted to say there wouldn’t be a next time, but after a moment’s thought, she said, “Next time, I’ll definitely tell you in advance.”