I'm no oracle,
but everyone says I'm even more accurate than one.
At three, I could read fortunes with a flick of my fingers. At five, my words could decide life or death. At eight, one sentence from me sent an enemy to an early grave.
I said his lifeforce was about to fade and a lightning tribulation loomed overhead. Sure enough, moments later, he turned to ash.
I said purple energy filled his fate palace and a benefactor was coming. The very next day, he entered an immortal sect.
I said his fate was at an end and his cultivation would turn against him. He laughed and called me a liar, then, three hours later, bled from every orifice and had his soul scattered.
The world reveres me as the “Divine Fortune-Teller,” saying I can glimpse Heaven's secrets, command yin and yang, alter fate, and understand the will of Heaven.
But I'm just a lowly fortune-teller who wants no trouble.
Until one day, I read the fortune of a mysterious girl:
[A dire omen: You bear the “world-ending fate.” You are doomed to die within three days.]
She only smiled. “I don't know whether your readings are accurate.
But I came here to kill you.”
From that day on, the world fell into chaos and fate turned upside down.
Empires changed hands, gods and demons ran rampant, ancient tombs reopened, and secret arts emerged...
Heaven's secrets were thrown into disarray, destiny collapsed, and the Great Dao ceased to exist.
