We Weren’t Fated, I Just Played My Cards Right - Chapter 44

Xu Yongshuang lay writhing in agony on the ground while Yan Xiu toyed with the incense burner in his hand. The palm-sized burner was dark red, seemingly containing something that rattled when shaken.

He flipped it over, revealing a clear square seal on the bottom.

“A Xu family artifact,” Yan Xiu said, crouching before Xu Yongshuang. “Where did you get this?”

Xu Yongshuang clenched his teeth, trying to endure the waves of pain. His entire body trembled violently, his clothes soaked with cold sweat.

He had no intention of speaking, but his silence only intensified the torment. Finally, he gasped out, “Th-that’s a family heirloom.”

Yan Xiu scoffed. “The Xu family has only one heir, and he has no descendants.”

“I… I’m from a collateral branch.”

“I asked—who gave you the incense burner? And who gave you the longevity gu?”

Xu Yongshuang’s mouth opened, but his tongue had turned black as if poisoned. Not a single word came out.

To avoid speaking, he cast a curse upon himself.

Yan Xiu’s expression turned cold as he pulled out handcuffs and secured the man’s wrists. Then, pressing a finger between Xu Yongshuang’s brows, something seemed to be drawn out from his body—the pain vanished instantly.

Xu Yongshuang’s eyes widened in realization. He now recognized who stood before him: Yan Xiu, the eldest son of the Yan family. Born with an aura of baleful energy that harmed both others and himself, he was a natural-born mystic.

Why was he here?

Only after everything settled did Fang Chuan step forward. He carried what looked like a spray bottle, continuously misting the air as he walked. A strong lemon scent spread, and the scattered gu insects on the rooftop soon stopped moving.

Fang Chuan sneezed several times before complaining to Yan Xiu, “Why does headquarters only issue this lemon-scented potion? I hate this smell.”

“You can voice your opinion during the next debriefing,” Yan Xiu replied, also disliking the overpowering scent. But with his gloves soiled, he could only frown slightly.

Approaching Yan Xiu, Fang Chuan glanced at Xu Yongshuang on the ground and asked quietly, “Did he say anything?”

Yan Xiu shook his head lightly. “He cursed himself. Can’t speak.”

Fang Chuan frowned. He had witnessed Yan Xiu’s methods—few could withstand them. That Xu Yongshuang would resort to such extreme measures to stay silent marked him as ruthless.

Not surprising, though. A man who killed without blinking, who would have claimed hundreds of lives had he succeeded, was beyond humanity.

Once caught, execution was inevitable. Xu Yongshuang likely saw his only chance of survival in protecting whoever stood behind him.

Fang Chuan gestured behind him. “A few of you, take him away.”

Four fully armed officers quickly appeared and hauled Xu Yongshuang off.

Two other officers supported their colleague, whose injured eye had been treated and bandaged. Once the gu insect was removed, he would recover.

The operation could barely be called a success, but Fang Chuan felt no joy. As expected, only Xu Yongshuang would face sentencing—uncovering his backer seemed nearly impossible.

Cases involving the occult often ended this way: leads severed abruptly, leaving only frustration.

“Is this the vessel Xu Yonglin mentioned for collecting the Longevity Gu?” Fang Chuan asked, eyeing the incense burner in Yan Xiu’s hand.

“Yes.”

“…How should we handle this?” Fang Chuan hesitated.

Standard procedure dictated handing it over to headquarters. But this involved hundreds of Qingcheng residents implanted with half-formed Longevity Gu. With the full list of victims still uncertain, they couldn’t carelessly relinquish it.

“Notify headquarters to send researchers for the Longevity Gu,” Yan Xiu said, then added, “We still have Xu Yonglin. He has talent in gu sorcery—he might uncover something.”

At the mention of Xu Yonglin, Fang Chuan instinctively frowned but nodded. “Let’s hope the Longevity Gu truly won’t cause harm as long as it remains untouched, just as he claimed.”

No one else had ever crafted a Longevity Gu before. Even headquarters’ gu masters might know less than Xu Yonglin. Though Fang Chuan distrusted the man, there was no better alternative.

When Yan Xiu and the others went to apprehend the suspects, Liu Mumu had already been escorted home in a police car.

As soon as the police car stopped, neighbors came out to gawk. Old Lady Zhang’s voice was particularly loud, her tone dripping with disdain: “Why is Dong’s girl coming back in a police car? She just can’t stay out of trouble.”

Inside the house, Lü Yao, who had been cleaning, also stepped outside.

The police car drove straight up to the Dong family’s doorstep. Liu Mumu had the hood of her down jacket pulled over her head, obscuring her face.

But her clothes were the same as what she’d worn that morning. She’d left with a strange man earlier, only to return in a police car?

Lü Yao took one look and turned back inside.

When Liu Mumu entered, the Dong family was having breakfast. Seeing her daughter rush in with her head down, Dong Zhenghao barely had time to speak before she breezed past like a whirlwind and dashed upstairs.

“This child… no manners at all,” Old Dong grumbled under his breath.

Jiang Li shot him a sidelong glance: “If you’ve got the guts, say it to her face.”

Dong Zhenghao stiffened his neck: “No way!”

Liu Mumu stayed quietly at home for two days. On the second day, she finally ventured outside. Dong Zhenghao was forced to stay home to keep an eye on her, and the father-daughter pair ended up watching a melodramatic soap opera together.

When Jiang Li heard that Dong Zhenghao had been detained at home by Liu Mumu, she took her son and daughter out first thing in the morning. Though she didn’t say it outright, she knew perfectly well—whenever Liu Mumu was around, danger seemed to follow.

Sure, her husband had proven useful so far, and nothing bad had happened yet. But what if? Better to keep her distance from the father-daughter pair.

“I’m hungry,” Liu Mumu announced to Dong Zhenghao by noon.

His stomach answered with a loud growl.

Their cooking skills were only good for torturing each other’s stomachs. After a brief staring contest, Old Dong finally caved and called a restaurant to order delivery.

Over an hour later, the food finally arrived. As they went to the yard to collect it, they heard a commotion next door—shouting, the sound of things being thrown, and Old Lady Zhang’s shrill curses.

“Fighting again?” Dong Zhenghao wandered to the wall, peering curiously toward the noise.

“People who can’t sleep tend to be irritable. It’s all your son’s fault,” Liu Mumu remarked, holding four takeout boxes as she peered alongside him.

Liu Mumu hadn’t hidden the fact that the gu curse was contagious. If you did a good deed, the involved parties ought to know. Since Old Dong controlled the family finances, she’d only told him.

Dong Zhenghao wasn’t stupid—he immediately guessed that Zhang Yang next door and his in-laws must have been infected too. Today, Jiang Li was taking her parents to the hospital; the elderly couple thought they were suffering from neurasthenia and had been much quieter lately.

After learning that once the gu on his son was lifted, everyone else would be fine, Dong Zhenghao truly didn’t tell anyone else.

Dong Zhenghao snorted. “Don’t blame everything on your brother. Old Lady Zhang next door was never an easy person to begin with.”

On the third day, Dong Zhenghao was finally able to go to work as usual. Today, Jiang Li was also taking her parents to another hospital for treatment, leaving only the three children at home. Dong Qi stayed quietly in his room, probably still recovering from the psychological trauma.

Dong Yue was in her room doing her winter break homework, while Liu Mumu was in the living room playing with a puzzle Dong Yue had brought back the day before, feeling dizzy and exhausted.

After two hours of struggling with it, she felt nothing but frustration instead of any enjoyment.

Finally, she tossed the puzzle aside and went out for some fresh air.

Outside, the sun was bright, and the greenery remained lush, nothing like the bitter cold of the north.

Liu Mumu took a stroll around the neighborhood before settling on a stone bench to soak up some sun and replenish her calcium.

The afternoon sun made her drowsy, and she was on the verge of dozing off.

Just as she was drifting, she heard footsteps approaching.

Opening one eye, Liu Mumu was surprised to see that it was the daughter-in-law of the Zhang family next door.

Perhaps due to yesterday’s argument, there was a bruise on the woman’s chin. Liu Mumu instinctively frowned. Even hitting a pregnant woman?

“Can I sit here?” Lü Yao asked softly.

Despite being much older than Liu Mumu, she seemed timid, as if she were used to being cautious.

“Go ahead.” Though Liu Mumu had heard plenty of gossip about the neighbors, she wasn’t particularly keen on interacting with them, especially Lü Yao.

Lü Yao’s presence always made her think that this was the kind of life her own mother had lived.

She had never had the chance to ask Dong Zhenghao about it, and even if she did, he probably wouldn’t tell her the truth. But Jiang Li had admitted that Wang Guixiang and Old Lady Zhang were very similar, especially in how they treated their daughters-in-law.

Sometimes, Liu Mumu wondered if her mother had left because life in the Dong household had been unbearable—so unbearable that she hadn’t even wanted to come back to see her own daughter.

When she was little, she had asked her grandfather about it. He had only said that her bond with her parents was weak. Her grandfather had given her enough love, but sometimes, she still felt a pang of disappointment.

Liu Mumu was about to leave when Lü Yao spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I heard you can tell fortunes, is that true?”

Liu Mumu was taken aback. Jiang Li must have mentioned it to Old Zhang’s sister—was that how she knew?

Lü Yao lowered her head and continued, “I heard it from Xueqi.”

Since she already knew, Liu Mumu didn’t deny it. She nodded. “Yes, is there something you need?”

Lü Yao bit her lip, hesitating.

Liu Mumu didn’t rush her, waiting patiently for her to speak.

“My mother-in-law…” She choked on the words, as if overwhelmed by grievances.

She turned away to wipe her eyes before continuing. “Lately, my mother-in-law has been having nightmares and talking in her sleep. A few nights ago, when I got up, I heard her saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over, and that she didn’t mean to push someone down the stairs.”

Whoa. Liu Mumu’s eyes widened, all drowsiness gone.

She still remembered Jiang Li mentioning that the previous daughter-in-law of the Zhang family had died from a fall at home while pregnant. The explanation at the time was that the current one had provoked the other with some unpleasant remarks. So, that wasn’t the case after all?

Liu Mumu thought for a moment before saying, “I’m afraid I can’t help you with this. You should report it to the police.”

Lü Yao shook her head hesitantly. “My mother-in-law might have a difficult personality, but she isn’t a bad person. I don’t think she’s capable of harming anyone. If I report it directly, there might be no turning back. So, I was hoping… you could divine for me whether she’s ever harmed anyone before.”

Liu Mumu didn’t know how to respond to that. If Old Lady Zhang was like that, how could she not be considered bad?

Perhaps Lü Yao genuinely believed the woman wasn’t bad—Liu Mumu certainly couldn’t understand it.

This was the first time Liu Mumu had received such a request. To be honest, if her face-reading skills were truly that advanced, she would have noticed something the first time she met Old Lady Zhang.

She had seen the Zhang family matriarch several times already but hadn’t discerned anything.

When it came to matters involving Old Lady Zhang, even if she tried divination, the other party would have to cast the hexagrams themselves—and there was still a chance the reading might be inaccurate.

Of course, the simplest method would be for her to just look.

Seeing Liu Mumu remain silent, Lü Yao pleaded, “I really have no one else to turn to, and I don’t dare tell my husband. Please, help me.”

In the end, Liu Mumu only offered an apologetic reply: “I’m sorry, but you’ve overestimated me. I can’t divine something like this.”

Without waiting for Lü Yao’s reaction, Liu Mumu stood up and left.

Watching her go, Lü Yao buried her face in her hands, seemingly distraught.

After walking some distance away, Liu Mumu turned back to glance at Lü Yao, who still sat motionless in her seat, and frowned slightly.