Chapter Sixteen: You Are the Empress—Cast the Divination!

A single stone stirs a thousand ripples. Even though Bai Li Mingsu’s mind was deeply cultivated—always tranquil, unruffled by any event—these words still made her eyes widen in astonishment.

Her brows knit together as understanding dawned: it was now clear why Bai Li Mingda’s attitude toward Han Fu had been so uncharacteristically strange.

But…

At this moment, Bai Li Mingsu’s expression grew grave as she said, “Brother, you do realize such words must not be spoken lightly.”

“I know,” Bai Li Mingda nodded as if it were only natural. “That’s why I’ve told no one. If you hadn’t asked today, I wouldn’t have said a thing.”

“That’s for the best.” Bai Li Mingsu nodded in relief, though helplessly, and warned again, “Even if these words are not to be taken as truth, should they spread, they would surely bring disaster. With my marriage to him imminent, such calamity would inevitably implicate the Zhou family as well.”

She was not being alarmist. Even if the world knew Bai Li Mingda’s predictions always turned out contrary, those four words—“Emperor’s Destiny”—were too heavy a burden. Should the rumor spread, the emperor would never care for truth or falsehood; he would kill first, ask later.

Bai Li Mingda was displeased, retorting indignantly, “What do you mean, ‘not to be taken as truth’? Do you doubt your brother’s art of physiognomy?”

“Have you forgotten all the misfortunes of the past?” Bai Li Mingsu’s words, of course, referred to the many times Bai Li Mingda had cast his lots—all those omens that had reversed themselves. She then added, “And when did you become skilled at reading faces, brother?”

“That was before; now I am not the man I once was.” Bai Li Mingda protested, though his confidence wavered just a little. With a huff he added, “You should look at me with new eyes after three days apart.”

The current Emperor was capricious, cunning, and cruel by nature. The Empire of Xu had already plunged into chaos—three massive and unstoppable rebel armies were proof enough.

In such times, Bai Li Mingda still refused to pursue any practical path, instead spending his days absorbed in divination and face-reading. As his sister, Bai Li Mingsu was angry at his lack of ambition, but could do nothing to change him.

In her view, reading a single day of military strategy was better than three months of augury; in the coming chaos, such knowledge would at least offer a means of survival. But Bai Li Mingda stubbornly believed that divination could chart a clear path for their siblings and the Zhou family.

Seeing her brother’s obstinacy, Bai Li Mingsu finally gave up, and teased him: “Since you claim Han Fu has the destiny of an emperor, what does my face say?”

“What are you thinking?” Bai Li Mingda was speechless. “If he’s to be emperor, you’ll naturally be the empress—it goes without saying. You’re to be husband and wife. In my view, after your marriage, you should have a big healthy son—the future crown prince. Sister, you—”

Bai Li Mingsu raised a slender hand to halt his rambling.

Emperor, empress… She understood all too well the peculiarities of her brother’s divinations. She smiled, but there was loneliness and a touch of sorrow in that smile.

At present, Bai Li Mingsu no longer hoped for a smooth and blessed future—she only wished it wouldn’t be too tragic.

But if Bai Li Mingda’s divinations were anything to go by, even that was a vain hope.

The better the omen, the worse the outcome; the worse the omen, the better the result… Yes, that was Bai Li Mingda’s iron law, unfailing since the day he first cast his lots.

Thus, how heavy those four words—“Emperor’s Destiny”—truly were.

For the first time, this wise, always-calm young woman who seemed to hold all things in hand began to worry for her future.

Bai Li Mingda saw his sister sink into deep thought, ignoring him entirely. Muttering indistinctly, he rose and left.

Even if the whole world refused to believe Han Fu possessed the destiny of an emperor, Bai Li Mingda was unwavering—because that was what his art of physiognomy revealed.

To doubt Han Fu was to doubt himself.

Bai Li Mingda’s approach to divination was one of tireless persistence and unwavering conviction.

Until the final result of a divination was revealed, he would always believe he had made no error.

So it had always been—so it would always be.

Bai Li Mingda departed, leaving the villa and returning to the Zhou estate.

Ping’er did not accompany him, as she still had to report to Bai Li Mingsu about Han Fu’s conduct since entering the household.

He carried the “Complete Compendium of Universal Physiognomy” with him, and upon returning to the Zhou estate, headed straight to Han Fu’s small courtyard, intending to keep company with his future imperial brother-in-law and read.

Coincidentally, after finishing his training, Han Fu was taking a break indoors, studying a history book. The burly man had already left through the archway.

“Brother-in-law.” The door was open, and as usual, Bai Li Mingda poked his head in first, then his body.

Han Fu was engrossed in a critical passage and merely made a gesture for silence, offering no further response.

“Let’s read together.” Bai Li Mingda didn’t mind, quietly sitting nearby and pulling the “Complete Compendium of Universal Physiognomy” from his robe, ready to open it—when a hurried voice sounded outside the door.

“Young Master Bai Li, Young Master Bai Li…”

The voice drew closer. A man in servant’s garb, about twenty-four or five, stepped in, his face full of anxiety.

His name was Zhou Dong—the very one who had delivered a poem for Bai Li Mingsu the previous day.

He was short but sharp-eyed, a quick-witted servant appreciated by the Zhou family and considered for training as a junior steward.

“Young Master Bai Li, you’re finally back.” Zhou Dong hurried forward, but did not forget himself. Bowing to Han Fu, he said, “Greetings, sir.”

Seeing he was anxious, Han Fu, though interrupted from his reading, was not irritated. He smiled, “No need for such formality.”

“Thank you, sir.” Zhou Dong bowed, then turned to Bai Li Mingda, “There’s a letter from home today. My mother is gravely ill. Please, Young Master Bai Li, cast a divination—tell me if her condition is serious.”

So that was it—a filial son. No wonder he was in such a rush.

Han Fu understood, and when he heard Zhou Dong implore Bai Li Mingda to cast a divination, he became interested.

Bai Li Mingda never put on airs, especially when someone sincerely requested a reading—it gave him a sense of purpose. He quickly said, “Such an important matter—come with me at once.”

“This is urgent. Let’s do it here,” Han Fu interjected, eager to witness the process.

“That’s fine too.” Bai Li Mingda nodded, and asked Zhou Dong, “Your mother’s birth date and hour?”

Even in this ancient era not belonging to China’s civilization, people attached great importance to birth details.

Zhou Dong answered without hesitation.

Bai Li Mingda pinched his fingers, gesturing in a practiced manner as he began to calculate.

Zhou Dong watched anxiously, Han Fu observing with curiosity.

Time passed, though only a moment.

Bai Li Mingda’s expression grew heavier by the second, until finally he sighed in dejection.

Strangely, Han Fu noticed that Zhou Dong actually seemed more at ease.

Was it just his imagination?

He checked again—it was not. As Bai Li Mingda’s face grew grim, Zhou Dong’s anxiety truly faded.

This was a talent—he had already grasped the law of Bai Li Mingda’s reversed divinations and even learned to make use of it. Han Fu regarded Zhou Dong with newfound respect.

Sure enough, Bai Li Mingda patted Zhou Dong’s shoulder, his face full of sympathy, saying, “Borrow a fast horse from the estate. If you hurry, you may make it home within three days.”

“Young Master Bai Li, do you mean my mother can’t make it through three days?” Hope lit Zhou Dong’s eyes.

“Yes,” Bai Li Mingda nodded solemnly, comforting him, “Life and death are part of nature. Be strong. Go see your mother one last time.”

“No need, no need.” To their surprise, Zhou Dong shook his head. A smile replaced his worry. “If that’s the case, then everything is fine, everything is fine.”

As he spoke, tears of joy streamed down his face. He knelt and kowtowed repeatedly. “Thank you, Young Master Bai Li! Thank you! If that’s the case, I’ll take my leave.”

Zhou Dong got up and left, his steps light and joyous.

“Is that fellow mad? Did he not understand my words?” Bai Li Mingda turned to Han Fu, then froze.

A moment later, he was filled with frustration.

Han Fu tried to hold it in, again and again, but lacking professional training, he finally burst out laughing.

“Haha…”

He’d already seen that Bai Li Mingda had just realized Zhou Dong had come to exploit the ‘bug’ in his readings.

A true talent indeed.