The Possessed Maiden and the Diviner’s Unforeseen Backlash

Looking up once more, Su Mo found her gaze locking with Lian Huan’s.

Lian Huan’s eyes were unnervingly white, clearly unnatural. It was as if she had been possessed, her own eyes forced out and replaced by a pair of pure white, spectral orbs.

Su Mo, however, had an unsettling intuition: Lian Huan was no longer in control of her own body; someone else was manipulating her.

“Father,” Lian Huan murmured, drifting closer before bowing respectfully to the Daoist priest.

Her movements were stiff, her facial muscles twitching intermittently, as if she were wrestling against an unseen force.

While Xu Qingzhu conversed with the Daoist, Su Mo subtly observed Lian Huan from behind them.

‘Only a few days have passed, yet to meet again under such circumstances…’ Su Mo sighed inwardly, a wave of melancholy washing over her.

From ‘Su Mo’s’ memories, she knew Lian Huan had been with her since childhood. They had grown up together, with Lian Huan serving as her personal maid from a young age. Lian Huan possessed a deeply subservient nature, fiercely dependent on and trusting of Su Mo, even developing a sense of worship.

It was only after the fall of the Su family that Su Mo realized this girl secretly yearned for freedom. During their relentless pursuit, Lian Huan had expressed a desire to leave several times. With her peak Foundation Establishment cultivation, she could have easily departed at any moment.

Yet, she hadn’t. Instead, she had repeatedly helped ‘Su Mo’ escape the righteous factions’ encirclement.

Such a profound bond meant that even if Lian Huan had left, Su Mo would still be indebted to her.

‘This poor girl, who has spent half her life as a puppet, cannot be allowed to remain an automaton for the rest of it,’ she resolved silently, unconsciously drawing closer to Xu Qingzhu.

To rescue Lian Huan quickly, relying on her own slow cultivation wouldn’t suffice. But this unusual Young Master Xu could prove to be a significant ally.

Noticing Su Mo’s proximity, Xu Qingzhu naturally drew her into his embrace. As she nestled close, the intoxicating fragrance of flowers wafted into his nostrils—a sensual scent laced with alluring charm.

It was like stumbling upon a wild rose on a moonlit path, subtly captivating, drawing one to pause and reach out, eager to pluck its petals and shatter its rare tranquility and beauty.

“Oh?” Xu Qingzhu’s playful spirit ignited when he saw her tremble slightly, yet make no move to pull away.

His hand ascended her cascade of dark hair, playfully tousling it as a faint smile played on his lips. “Daoist Bai Yunbo, what a serendipitous encounter. Perhaps you could divine the fate of my wife and I?”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his gaze to Su Mo. “Don’t you agree, my dear wife?”

Rolling her eyes imperceptibly, Su Mo suppressed her irritation, forcing out a clipped, “Ah, yes, absolutely.”

A flicker of doubt crossed Xu Qingzhu’s dark eyes, but he merely gestured for the Daoist to proceed as he wished, inviting him to begin his ritual.

However, he subtly shifted his stance, inadvertently adopting a defensive posture, a hint of wariness in his movements.

“Of course, of course,” Bai Yunbo replied without further ado, immediately producing a tortoise shell, an Eight Trigrams board, talismans, and other implements.

With a clang, he retrieved a bronze cauldron from his storage ring and, in the depths of the mountain, promptly set up an altar.

Three incense sticks were lit and inserted into the cauldron as he chanted incantations.

Xu Qingzhu watched the entire process, his eyes narrowing slightly.

He knew a little about these various practices. While not an expert in divination, he could discern the basic principles of the art.

‘Is this truly just fortune-telling? No, there’s also an element of seeking objects and people. That conniving Daoist has impure intentions,’ Xu Qingzhu mused, inadvertently squeezing Su Mo’s hand too hard.

She swatted his hand away, and Xu Qingzhu looked down to see her rubbing her head with both small hands, fuming with exasperation.

It was an expression of intense anger, coupled with an inability to do anything about it—a classic case of ‘impotent rage.’

‘Is she trying to ask for my help?’ Xu Qingzhu averted his gaze, recalling their past interactions.

He couldn’t predict Su Mo’s schemes. He decided to proceed with caution.

“…By the speed of the divine decree!”

As his final words rang out, a violent purple lightning bolt suddenly flashed across the sky.

A midday thunderclap, a defiance of nature!

“Crack!” The Daoist’s magic sword clattered to the ground, its luster gone, leaving him startled.

“Crackle… Boom!” The bronze cauldron instantly split apart, causing the Daoist to reach out a hand, heartbroken and on the verge of tears.

Before Su Mo and Xu Qingzhu could react, Daoist Bai Yunbo suddenly began to convulse, his eyes rolling back.

“Ahhh!”

He shrieked in agony, writhing on the ground, his body twisting like a pretzel.

‘Summoning a soul?’ Su Mo wondered uncertainly, cautiously stepping back.

At that moment, the Daoist pushed himself up, his joints bending unnaturally, and stared at them with an eerie gaze, mumbling cryptically:

“Not of the Five Elements, an outsider to the heavens, a chaotic disruptor of worldly order. If you wish to…”

Halfway through his prophecy, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his throat gurgled, choking off his words.

He continued to gurgle, his eyes bloodshot, staring fixedly at the two of them.

After a long while,

“Thud…” The Daoist collapsed, sprawling on the ground, half-dead.

Su Mo, watching from a distance and reveling in the misfortune of others, dared not approach him, instead shrinking behind Xu Qingzhu.

‘Is this a backlash? Did the divination go wrong?’ Su Mo muttered.

“Not quite. More likely, his cultivation isn’t up to par,” Xu Qingzhu replied, having anticipated this.

They exchanged a glance, both feigning confusion and even looking at each other with feigned bewilderment.

Clasping her hands behind her back and fidgeting with her fingers, Su Mo worried internally:

‘Did this Daoist priest divine my identity as a transmigrator?’

Lowering his gaze to observe Su Mo, Xu Qingzhu pondered:

‘Did this Daoist priest divine my rebirth?’

Shaking their heads, they averted their eyes, simultaneously looking at the prostrate Daoist on the ground.

In unison, a silent thought echoed in both their minds:

‘This person cannot be allowed to live!’

Lian Huan, who had been stiff and dazed beside them for so long, now showed concern for the Daoist.

She bent down mechanically, helping him up, and called out, “Father, are you alright?”

“I’m fine… just… a bit drained,” the Daoist stammered, his fingers trembling, unable to lift his arm.

With a tacit understanding, Xu Qingzhu stepped forward and respectfully said, “Daoist, we shouldn’t have troubled you. Who would have thought such a thing would happen?”

“Indeed,” Su Mo echoed. “We don’t know how to compensate you properly.”

“How about this: when you have time, please grace our humble abode with your presence. My wife and I would like to express our profound gratitude.”

“Exactly. We must thank the Daoist for his selfless generosity,” Su Mo nodded.

…

The two of them, in perfect sync, had Bai Yunbo utterly bewildered.

Having recovered considerably, he stroked his beard and chuckled, “Of course, of course! I will certainly pay a visit when I have time!”

“Hahahaha…” Everyone exchanged smiles, a picture of warmth and harmony.

The only question was whether the Daoist would leave standing upright or horizontally. That remained to be seen.

As they exchanged pleasantries, the Daoist wrote down a divination slip and handed it to them.

They exchanged glances while reading it, both recognizing it as a “most auspicious omen”—great fortune. It indicated a very strong marital bond.

‘Just a randomly scribbled fortune, not even a dog would believe this!’ Su Mo cursed inwardly, then handed it back to Young Master Xu. She didn’t want to hold it for another second.

Xu Qingzhu, repeatedly studying and pondering the slip, suddenly looked up and asked, “Daoist, this fortune slip mentions a difficulty in our marriage. What exactly does that mean?”

Supporting his aching back, Bai Yunbo stood up with a wry smile. “How could a humble Daoist like myself fully comprehend such a difficulty? You, as husband and wife, must support and understand each other to overcome it when hardship arrives.”

Su Mo secretly pouted, feeling as though she had heard that exact phrase countless times before. Common platitudes—was this what they called fortune-telling?

She turned to look at Xu Qingzhu, who, conversely, was lost in thought, a pensive expression on his face.

‘No way, no way? Could someone actually believe this?’ Su Mo had never believed in immortals, gods, or fate. After all, all her achievements in her previous life had been painstakingly built through her own efforts.

If the heavens ever truly opened their eyes, they would probably selectively ignore her, wouldn’t they?

‘Better to rely on myself,’ Su Mo clenched her fist. This time, having transmigrated into a book, she needed to plan her own path to unfettered freedom.

First, she had to change Young Master Xu’s idea of ‘taking a wife.’ That was a crucial preliminary step.