On the day Song Shixing was born, a fortune-teller declared, “This child’s fate is tangled up with demons!”
So her father kicked the fortune-teller right out of the residence.
“What demons? These three provinces have enjoyed a century of peace under the protection of the Cangwu Sect. You charlatan, always trying to frighten my precious daughter!”
Life went on peacefully for seventeen slow years, until trouble erupted at the Qinghui Temple gathering in Binzhou.
After a century of peace, demons had truly appeared in the three provinces, and they were coming straight for Song Shixing.
With the demon came a cold, merciless young man in white from the Cangwu Sect, with whom she had a grudge.
An immortal in her dream told her she had to find the celestial artifact, the Starfall Cup, which had accidentally fallen into the mortal realm, if she wanted to save the world.
Song Shixing was speechless.
Are you kidding me? I’m a mortal. You want me to find an artifact and save the world?
The deity in her dream gave her no chance to refuse, only telling her to cultivate.
Fine. Song Shixing had no choice but to seek out the fabled prodigy of the Cangwu Sect.
For the sake of the Starfall Cup, she could only swallow her pride and take him as her master.
Chen Zhuo lowered his brows and spoke solemnly, each word brimming with sincerity. “If you follow me, your days ahead won’t be peaceful.”
Song Shixing met his gaze, the cold glint in her eyes undimmed. “And do you think I’m someone who longs for a peaceful life?”
“I know there are things about your master’s situation that can’t be said, and I suspect the Cangwu Sect is involved. I also know there will surely be trouble for you at the Cangwu Sect. But it doesn’t matter. Which of us is the sort to be scared of trouble?”
She made it sound as if she was going to take on the whole world with Chen Zhuo.
Chen Zhuo tilted his head. His fringe brushed his brow, and a few strands of his high ponytail swayed behind him, giving him a carefree, youthful air. At last, he couldn’t hold back his expression, and a distinct smile curled his lips.
“Fine.” His voice carried a smile, the last syllable lilting upward. “What should I call you now, you wicked disciple?”
Theme: Walk bravely into a fate that cannot be defeated
