Chapter Sixty-Five: Kindred Spirits

Shen Wan moved at a leisurely pace, and Wu Xi along with the others were in no hurry either. They slowed their steps to walk side by side with their uncle. Perhaps it was because each of them had already received a Star Lingzhi, which counted as a significant harvest from the ruins. No one was greedy; now, with only a few days left, they treated the rest as a scenic excursion—any further opportunities would simply be a bonus.

Of course, Zhao Dongsheng was not included in this relaxed mood. He trailed behind the group, muttering incessantly, analyzing whether he had somehow offended Elder Xiao Jiu and why he alone was being overlooked.

Shen Wan paid him no mind, not being familiar with this disciple. If he were to dig up some information, he’d recall that when leaving the Qianxuan Sect, the well-known Zhao the Second mentioned by other disciples was in fact this fellow’s brother. Had Shen Wan known of their connection, he would certainly have gone over to strike up a friendly conversation.

The disciples chatted and laughed as they walked, and before long, they arrived at their destination. Now, another of the eight Sky-reaching Towers had been illuminated; only five remained. Seeing that the scene here was identical to the last tower, Shen Wan instinctively shrank his neck, nervously scanning the crowd of thousands.

Fortunately, there were no bald heads. It seemed those troublemakers were not here.

He breathed a slight sigh of relief, then realized that Wu Xi, the senior disciple of the sect, was right beside him. Was his nervousness perhaps unnecessary? With this thought, Shen Wan straightened his back, curled his lips, putting on a look of borrowed authority.

Wu Xi quickly spotted Lin Bufan, but did not disturb him. Instead, she found a spot on the outer edge, not far from her junior brother, and arranged everyone to sit down. She gave Shen Wan a quick report before entering a meditative state along with the others.

Left alone, Shen Wan grew bored. Despite the thousands seated here, it was so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Every person sat utterly motionless, which gave him a faint feeling of unease.

Shen Wan pursed his lips, idling on the sidelines. Within ten minutes, he was restless. He stood and peered inward; beneath the tower stood a stone tablet, its inscription unknown, yet everyone seemed to face it.

Driven by curiosity, he contemplated approaching for a closer look. Yet he dared not disrupt others as he had with Zhang Haoyun; any further conflict would not be so easily resolved, especially since all the Qianxuan Sect disciples were present.

He tried to keep his distance, circling the perimeter of the crowd, but found no gaps whatsoever.

"Forget it, if I can’t see it, then so be it—it’s not my concern anyway." He shrugged and returned to Wu Xi’s side.

Finding a stone to sit on, he propped his chin on his hands. Without a phone to pass the time, simply watching the backs of so many heads soon made him drowsy.

His eyelids grew heavy, his mind drifting.

Yet in that hazy state, Shen Wan vaguely sensed something floating above the heads of the crowd—a glowing spot, faintly radiating light, moving back and forth.

He thought it a figment of his dreams and paid it little mind. But even in this half-awake state, his eyes followed the light point, tracking its movements.

As though locked in, his gaze remained fixed upon it.

The glowing spot drifted lazily, but suddenly, it paused mid-air, motionless.

At that moment, Shen Wan’s eyes froze as well.

After a while, the light moved left half a step, and Shen Wan’s eyes followed. It shifted right, and his eyes tracked it again. This happened several times; his gaze never wavered.

Finally, the light paused, then drifted directly toward Shen Wan.

As it drew nearer, his sleepiness deepened.

"You can see me?"

Suddenly, the glowing spot before him flickered and seemed to speak.

Shen Wan nodded blankly, offering no reply.

The light sighed, floated to Shen Wan’s forehead, and tapped it with a tiny hand.

"Wake up, I’m asking you a question."

Shen Wan felt something was amiss, his awareness sharpening. With the return of self-consciousness, his eyes snapped wide open.

"Damn!"

He realized he was awake, yet the glowing spot hadn’t vanished—it wasn’t merely a dream.

Startled, he leaned back, nearly tumbling to the ground. Luckily, the stone was small, and he managed to steady himself with one hand.

He slowed his breathing, frowning as he took a closer look.

This was no mere glowing spot, but a tiny figure, no bigger than his palm, dressed in white and radiating a soft light. Without careful observation, it was easy to overlook.

"What are you?"

Shen Wan grew wary. Oddly, none of those around him seemed to notice—they all remained still in meditation.

The little figure folded its arms and frowned back.

"I’m asking you—can you see me?"

"Uh, would you believe me if I said I couldn’t?" Shen Wan muttered quietly.

The little one gave a thoughtful hum, then heaved a sigh.

"Ah, never mind. I didn’t expect you’d be the fated one I was waiting for. Since that’s the case, I’ll bestow this divine technique upon you."

With those words, the tiny figure flashed with white light and plunged straight into Shen Wan’s forehead.

Shen Wan was alarmed, clutching at his head. After two rounds of meridian opening, he was already jumpy—a classic case of once bitten, twice shy.

He feared another brush with life and death, and it hadn’t even been a day since the last.

But after a long while, nothing happened. His body felt no different whatsoever.

Shen Wan’s eyes darted about, hands still pressed to his head, frozen in place.

"What’s going on? Did I swallow that thing? Why’s there no reaction?"

Since the little figure had entered his mind, the lack of any sensation unnerved him even more.

Just as he was about to slap his forehead to try and eject it, the tiny figure suddenly sprang back into his vision, flipping several times in the air before landing, then dropped to its knees, kowtowing repeatedly.

"Sorry, sorry! Forgive me, forgive me!"

Looking at the little one, Shen Wan noticed a faint footprint on its face—it had clearly been kicked out.

He understood at once. It must have been the shadow from his dream that did it. His tension evaporated, and he found the tiny figure rather amusing.

The little one wore a mournful expression, realizing that another presence existed within this human’s consciousness. Thankfully, that presence hadn’t pursued him; he relaxed a bit, but looked at Shen Wan with fear and hurried to leave.

Seeing it about to go, Shen Wan called out, "Hey, wait!"

The tiny figure turned nervously, "What is it?"

"Um... Are you what they’re all trying to comprehend?" Shen Wan pointed to the thousands, as if he’d guessed something.

The little one nodded, "I am the spirit of this tablet, tasked with seeking out fated individuals to whom I can impart divine techniques. Rest assured, you are not my fated one—I cannot bestow anything upon you."

"Well, what’s there to be relieved about?" Shen Wan grumbled internally, but scratched his nose and asked, "Does it have to be a fated one?"

"Yes."

"And how does one become a fated one?"

"Depends on my mood."

"..."

Shen Wan was speechless. This was what he called a fated one? Utterly arbitrary.

Of course, he didn’t voice this, but began plotting in his mind. Raising his brows with a mischievous grin, he asked, "Do you want me to help you find your fated one?"

Seeing his "benevolent" smile, the little figure shivered. About to refuse, Shen Wan pointed toward Lin Bufan and said with a laugh, "See that person? He’s your fated one now. If you say otherwise, I’ll let the guy in my head out to deal with you!"

The tiny figure gulped, following Shen Wan’s finger to look at Lin Bufan.

He hesitated, torn between being beaten and not. After a moment’s struggle, he slapped his thigh and declared loudly, "Ah! I’ve always said that he’s my fated one!"