Volume One, Chapter Sixteen: You Will Not Survive Today

"Kid, let him do the reading. This little Taoist has a lingering aura; he shouldn’t be an ordinary person.”

Just as Montage was about to leave, Dang Kang’s voice suddenly broke out.

“He’s a Sequent? Could he have noticed something?” Montage was startled, hastily sizing up Half-Immortal Huang.

His words might have been unreliable, but one had to admit this man did have the air of a recluse, someone detached from the mundane world.

Noticing Montage’s gaze, Half-Immortal Huang quickly withdrew his own furtive glances, adopting the posture of a hidden master.

“Uh…”

But as Montage saw him like this, he instantly dismissed the thought from before.

Still, since Dang Kang had spoken, there was no harm in letting the man try a divination. After all, he had nothing to lose.

“Then help me divine a character.”

“All right. Name it.”

“Divine the character ‘Meng’—the one with the grass radical on top.”

Montage spoke the word.

“When were you born?” Half-Immortal Huang asked with a smile.

“September 16.”

“Today?” Half-Immortal Huang was taken aback.

“What’s wrong? Is there a problem?”

Montage looked at him, puzzled.

“It’s nothing. Let me do the reading first.” Half-Immortal Huang frowned, pinched his fingers, and began his calculation.

“Impossible! Did I get it wrong again? That can’t be!”

“What do you mean, ‘can’t be’? Are you done or not?” Montage, seeing his expression, suddenly felt a bad premonition stirring in his chest.

“The hexagram shows your life is fraught with hardship—not only are you an orphan, but you also bear the sign of early death. By rights, you ought to be dead already…”

Montage’s face darkened with every word.

Could this even be called human speech? Not only did the man curse him to die young, but also called him an orphan. If he were truly an orphan, what about his family—were they just illusions?

“I know it’s hard to believe, but let me explain the hexagram. The character ‘Meng’ splits apart: grass above, home below, but missing a stroke, which means the family is not whole. Within, there’s an extra horizontal line, forming a tomb that traps you. It looks full of life, but in truth, you’ve already stepped into the grave. Are you sure your family… is truly your family?”

Half-Immortal Huang looked at Montage with grave seriousness.

“You’re talking nonsense! I never should have listened to your drivel!” Montage exploded with anger.

To have his family and himself cursed once or twice—Montage could no longer bear to listen.

“My skills may be lacking, but I can assure you, this hexagram cannot be wrong. Your family is definitely an issue, and you won’t survive the night!” Never had Half-Immortal Huang looked so grave.

“So you’re saying I’ll die tonight?” Montage gave a furious, disbelieving laugh. This was becoming more ridiculous by the minute.

“The reading does point to that,” Half-Immortal Huang nodded earnestly.

“Fine, then let’s wait and see. If I’m still alive tomorrow, I’ll make you answer for this!” Montage spat out, turning away at once.

Half-Immortal Huang watched Montage’s departing figure, his eyes growing deep and pensive.

“A dead man still walking… Could he be the one the Dragon King’s prophecy spoke of?”

But the thought was quickly dismissed. Montage’s fate might be unusual, but he was doomed not to survive this night—how could he be the prophesied one?

Moreover, the prophesied one was said to have power rivaling the gods. From their first encounter, Half-Immortal Huang had seen through Montage: he was nothing but an ordinary person, devoid of even a trace of spiritual energy.

Such a person could never be the prophesied one.

Half-Immortal Huang shook his head and was about to leave, but after only two steps, he stopped, his old face filled with conflicting emotions.

“Sigh! I really am soft-hearted. Consider this repaying you for a meal.”

Cultivators were forbidden from becoming entangled with karma. Since he had already become involved in Montage’s fate, he had to pay it back. If he knew the other faced disaster and stood by watching him die, that was something he simply could not do.

Just as he was about to give chase, his body stiffened suddenly. He turned, puzzled, toward the inner city.

“How did those things get out?”

He took a step and vanished from the street.

“That old fraud—I never should have listened to him.” Montage stalked along the road, growing angrier the more he thought about it.

He didn’t even know why, but after hearing those words, a strange unease took root in his heart.

That was why he’d reacted so strongly.

“Elder, do you think he was telling the truth?” Montage suddenly asked.

“Whether it’s true or not, you should already know the answer in your heart,” Dang Kang replied ambiguously.

“Do you also think I won’t survive the night?” Montage remembered Half-Immortal Huang’s claim that he wouldn’t live to see morning.

“Sometimes, death isn’t an end. Perhaps it’s another beginning.”

“Elder, do you know something?” Montage pressed urgently.

“I don’t. But the Demon Emperor once said: one’s fate should be in one’s own hands. So-called destiny is just one possibility among countless others—it isn’t set in stone. Do what you wish to do, walk the path you wish to walk; even if you fail, you’ll have no regrets.”

“Walk the path I wish to walk…”

Montage chewed over these words, and the gloom in his eyes gradually cleared, replaced by a growing light.

“Thank you for your guidance, Elder. I understand now.”

“Mmm.” Dang Kang gave a noncommittal grunt.

When Montage returned home, he noticed at once how unusually quiet the place was—there wasn’t a soul in sight.

“Where has everyone gone?” Montage searched the house but found no one. He couldn’t help but feel puzzled.

The only residents of Aviary Street were his family. And his relatives seldom went out. Yet today, all of them were absent, and his unease surged again.

“Could something have happened?”

After all, the incident with the Nine-Faced Monster had just happened less than a day ago—who knew if there were other creatures lurking nearby?

Just as he was about to leave and search, the front door was suddenly pushed open.

Immediately, he saw his family enter.

Before he could even greet them, he felt his body freeze in place.

Looking down, he realized that, at some point, a layer of transparent filaments had appeared around him.

“Spider silk?”

At the sight of it, a scene from the cathedral the night before flashed through his mind.

“Grandpa, Grandma, run! There’s a monster here!” Montage yelled in warning without a second thought.

But the two acted as if they hadn’t heard, unmoved and unresponsive.

“Dad! Mom! Sweetie! Quickly, take them and run! There really is a monster here!” Montage shouted desperately to the other three.

“Dear brother, is this the monster you’re talking about?”

Meng Sweetie gave Montage a wink. Her body twisted and warped, transforming into a spider the size of a house.