“The key to opening the array?” Gu Li was utterly bewildered. How had she, of all people, become a “key”?
“The fact that every guest on this show has a negative constitution is no accident. When we arrived at the village today, I noticed a ‘Transfer Array’ looming over the entire area.” Ye Lin stepped outside and looked up at the ink-black night sky. A few sparse stars dotted the vast firmament, making the two women feel incredibly small beneath the Great Canopy.
Ye Lin’s hands wove a complex seal, and spiritual energy gathered at her fingertips. As her palms parted, a pillar of pale blue light shot toward the heavens with the speed of a lightning bolt. Just as Gu Li thought it would vanish into the atmosphere, the pillar exploded mid-air—as if an invisible glass dome beneath the clouds had blocked its path.
The shattering blue light was more spectacular than any firework. It mapped out an incredibly complex celestial diagram in the sky. Twisted, dense lines became weirdly entangled, their edges draping down to tightly envelop the small village, shimmering with an eerie glow against the dark.
“So, this is a Transfer Array?” It was Dijiu Li’s first time seeing such a formation, and she was wide-eyed with awe. She looked at Ye Lin with newfound disbelief; she hadn’t expected such profound spiritual power from one so young. To manifest an invisible array into a visible map required a staggering amount of energy, yet Ye Lin showed no signs of fatigue. Her effortless composure was enough to make any cultivator green with envy.
Dijiu Li observed Ye Lin closely. Though her face showed signs of past hardship, there was a clear omen of “Great Prosperity” rising. Furthermore, her fate seemed deeply intertwined with the woman who served as the “Key.” The Key herself was a marvel. Their fates clicked together like precision gears, a sight that made Dijiu Li feel a pang of envy. Her own fate and Diwu Ju’s were inherently incompatible; if they hadn’t been, she might never have resorted to such desperate measures. At the thought, her spirit dimmed—their affinity had truly reached its end.
“They’re moving!” Gu Li pointed at the square formations outlined by the light blue lines. They shifted like the tiles of a Rubik’s Cube, occasionally clicking into new positions as if an invisible hand in the sky were rearranging them. First, she was told she was the “Key,” and now the sky was shifting above her; fear began to swell in her chest, and she instinctively gripped Ye Lin’s arm.
Ye Lin patted the back of her hand gently. “The array is alive. See that motionless part in the very center? That’s the Eye. Once the rest of the squares finish their alignment, the Eye will pull you in to unlock the Transfer. It will drain every ounce of merit and luck from Xiao Wang Village. This person has set a massive trap. Don’t worry, I won’t let you become the key. I’ll find the person who gathered us here and set this all in motion.”
“But.” Gu Li’s face grew grave. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke the truth. “But, I’m the one who gathered everyone here.”
“Huh?” Ye Lin looked at her in disbelief. “What exactly were you trying to do with this lineup?”
“For certain reasons, I need to weaken my Koi luck every year. Usually, I can burn off enough energy on a film set to become like a normal person. But this year, even after three movies, nothing changed. That’s why I invested in this dating show. I personally handpicked you and the other guests.” Gu Li confessed everything.
“And that?” Ye Lin pointed to the glowing Transfer Array above.
“That has nothing to do with me! I don’t know the first thing about arrays!” Gu Li waved her hands in frantic explanation. She had no idea how a simple reality show trip had veered into the occult.
Gu Li’s grip on Ye Lin’s hand suddenly tightened. “Will you be in danger? I should notify the crew to evacuate immediately. It doesn’t matter if we stop filming.” After all, lives were at stake.
“No need.” Ye Lin stopped her. “Since we’re already here, we might as well settle in. A mastermind doesn’t build a stage this big without wanting an audience.” Moreover, she still hadn’t figured out why Gu Li felt the need to surround herself with negative constitutions. Since Gu Li was the “Key,” the architect of this array had to be someone intimately familiar with her—perhaps even someone among the cast or crew. Letting them leave now would be a mistake.
“You remember my flight was delayed, right?” Ye Lin asked.
Gu Li nodded. She remembered clearly.
“The official report said turbulence. In reality, someone had placed a ‘Calamity Talisman’ on the plane.” At the time, Ye Lin thought someone was just causing chaos, but seeing this array, she realized it might have been an attempt to prevent her from arriving. Did someone discover I’m a transmigrator?
Probably not. The original Ye Lin’s personality shift could be explained by her family troubles; if even her closest manager didn’t notice, a stranger shouldn’t have. There was only one possibility: she was a variable. Her negative constitution was so extreme it threatened the stability of the “Key.” Therefore, the architect was willing to sacrifice an entire plane of people just to eliminate her.
None of this was a coincidence; it was a deployment. Unfortunately for the villain, they didn’t realize just how much of a variable she truly was. Meeting her meant their run of “bad deeds” had officially hit a dead end.
“That’s so dangerous! Was it because of me?” Gu Li’s face was pale. Hearing that Ye Lin had nearly died on the way here made her heart leap into her throat. She couldn’t bear the thought of the other guests and staff being in danger; if anything happened, the guilt would be hers to bear.
“It has nothing to do with you. Likely a coincidence. Perhaps someone wanted to collect a plane’s worth of souls to refine Sha,” Ye Lin said, not having the heart to tell the full, brutal truth while Gu Li looked so terrified. “Relax, I’m here. I won’t let them succeed. Besides, I have a way to help you weaken that Koi luck of yours.”
On the way to the shack, Ye Lin had mentioned that “Great Luck” isn’t always a blessing. Gu Li’s mood had shifted then, proving that her constitution had brought her more grief than joy. Hearing that she could finally diminish her burden, Gu Li wavered.
After a long silence, Gu Li spoke: “Then, I’ll give you until tomorrow morning. If the Transfer and Sha-Refining arrays aren’t broken by then, we leave immediately. Deal?”
Ye Lin nodded solemnly. “If they aren’t broken by tomorrow noon, you take the team and leave. Is that fair?”
Waking everyone up in the middle of the night to cancel filming out of nowhere—without a valid excuse—would almost certainly land her on tomorrow’s headlines: “Movie Queen Gu Suffers Breakdown Under Work Stress, Promotes Superstition at Midnight.” A full morning would give Gu Li enough time to conjure a normal excuse to call off the shoot without raising eyebrows.
“Fair enough,” Gu Li nodded, though a flicker of doubt remained in her eyes. After all, they weren’t close enough to entrust their lives to one another. Furthermore, Ye Lin’s reputation in the industry had been abysmal; for her to suddenly transform into a mystic arts master who could break ancient arrays and manipulate fortune felt unreliable.
“You needn’t worry, young lady,” Dijiu Li chimed in from her perch. “I have divined that the calamity facing Xiao Wang Village will be averted by a savior. Though I am unskilled in arrays, I am an expert in physiognomy and deduction. I wouldn’t have staked my own soul on this if I weren’t certain.”
The spirit had spent the day observing Ye Lin from the shadows. Initially, she suspected the girl was the one who had set the malicious Sha-Refining Array, but her readings of Ye Lin’s features proved otherwise. Now, her only hope of rescuing Diwu Ju rested entirely on Ye Lin’s shoulders.
“I have one more question,” Gu Li said, pointing toward the tree canopy where Dijiu Li was partially hidden. “Why did she appear in my room? If she was looking for a master to break the array, she should have gone to Ye Lin’s.”
Dijiu Li hurriedly bowed toward Gu Li. “A thousand apologies, Miss. It was a misunderstanding.” She then turned to Ye Lin to explain: “Master, I had calculated the exact time of your arrival and observed you from a distance during the day. However, due to the crowd of ‘living breath,’ I didn’t dare manifest. Once night fell and I saw you heading here with this lady, I intended to follow.”
At this point, Dijiu Li looked down helplessly at her small, clean hands—the black, malevolent energy that once clung to her had been entirely purified. “But this lady suddenly radiated such a brilliant golden light that I was instantly purified! The shock made my spirit unstable, and I, I drifted into the wrong room. My residual Sha energy must have collided with her spirit. I am truly sorry!”
It was a celestial case of “wrong door.” With the air cleared, the matter was put to rest.
Gu Li was not one to dwell on the past. Once she made a decision, she committed to it. She glanced up at the sky; the shimmering, pale blue squares of the array felt oppressive. It was like her own destiny—beautiful to behold, yet heavy enough to suffocate her.
In the dark of the night, Ye Lin couldn’t see the complexity of Gu Li’s expression. She turned to swap the bedding, intending to let Gu Li sleep in the room with the working lock. Meanwhile, the spirit Dijiu Li discreetly vanished into the trees a hundred meters away, remaining on standby.
“Wait.” Gu Li stopped her. She looked conflicted, her slender fingers twisting together. She bit her lip for a long moment, and though the lighting was poor, Ye Lin’s sharp eyes caught the deep crimson flush creeping up Gu Li’s neck.
“You, you said earlier that you wanted to bite me.” Gu Li’s fingertips were white from gripping her own hands. As an Omega, saying such a thing was ripe for misunderstanding. She added hurriedly, “I—I don’t mean it that way. I just mean, is biting me the way you weaken my luck? Like how you snapped your fingers today and my fatigue vanished?”
Ye Lin’s brain practically short-circuited. How did she catch such a tiny detail? She scratched her head, her face burning. The truth was, earlier, her Alpha instincts had been screaming at her to bite Gu Li’s gland—a primal, temporary marking. Gu Li’s pheromones were simply too intoxicating; even with her years of cultivation, Ye Lin had almost lost her self-control.
“No, no, no! That’s not it!” Ye Lin waved her hands frantically. She didn’t dare admit she had been momentarily “seduced” by her own biology. If Gu Li knew, she’d never be able to look her in the eye again. The shame was too much.
“I—I thought you had been tainted by Sha energy and needed it drawn out! That’s why I said it instinctively. But since your Sha has vanished, you’re fine now!” Ye Lin turned her face away, unable to meet Gu Li’s gaze. Her intestines felt green with regret. All those years of Taoist training, and she had blurted out something so scandalous. “You’re definitely fine! Go, go get some rest!”
“But can you truly help me eliminate this ‘Koi’ constitution?” Gu Li leaned closer, trying to find Ye Lin’s eyes to see if she was truly confident.
The warmth of Gu Li’s body shielded her from the mountain breeze, bringing with it that faint, haunting scent of agarwood. Ye Lin rubbed her forehead, screaming internally: Don’t come any closer! If you stay this close, I can’t think straight!
“Changing one’s fate against the heavens invites retribution,” Ye Lin said, her voice dropping an octave. “But I can help you become a ‘normal person’ with slightly better-than-average luck without fundamentally altering your constitution. But you’ll have to cooperate with me.”
“Deal!” Hope ignited in Gu Li’s eyes. “Whatever you need, I will fully cooperate!”
Author’s Note:
Ye Lin: “She said she’ll ‘cooperate’ with me.”
Gu Li (striking a pose): “Wife, is this position okay?”
Ye Lin: Nosebleed.jpg