Chapter 169

Chapter 169: Unfathomable

The universe held countless forces—karma, time, fate, spacetime, sins and merit.

Had he truly brushed one today?

And if such a thing existed… why had he never heard of anyone suffering this way before?

Then again, how would he? People didn’t announce curses to the world.

Wang Jie exhaled heavily and looked at Yi Hao. “How do you feel?”

Yi Hao bowed deeply, sincerity written into every line of his posture. “Thank you, Master. I’ve recovered.”

Wang Jie’s shoulders eased, and he sat down, visibly weary.

Yi Hao hurried forward to steady him, but Wang Jie waved him off. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Karma touches the cycles of time,” Wang Jie said, eyes half-lidded. “To look back and glance forward—each use costs a great deal. I only need rest.”

Yi Hao was shaken. “Master’s ability… I can only admire it.”

Wang Jie closed his eyes as if meditating.

Two hours passed.

Yi Hao waited the entire time.

When Wang Jie finally opened his eyes, Yi Hao immediately offered a gift. “Master, thank you for saving me. Please accept this token of gratitude.”

Wang Jie pushed it back. “The price is fixed. One hundred starsea stones per reading—no less, and no more.”

Yi Hao insisted. “Master, please. This is my sincere heart.”

Wang Jie smiled faintly. “Karma works on causes and effects. The one hundred starsea stones are the cause of our meeting. If you change the cause, the effect may not come.”

Yi Hao stiffened—and hurriedly withdrew the gift, as if afraid to offend the laws of the world.

When they returned to Green Grass by the River, Yi Hao thanked Wang Jie solemnly in front of countless onlookers, then left.

Wang Jie sat behind his counter, calm as still water.

The first one was handled.

Next would come the second. Then the third.

Outside, people argued endlessly.

Most didn’t believe Wang Jie could read fate. Some claimed Yi Hao was a plant.

But Yi Hao’s status was real. And combined with Du Xian’s public “congratulations” at the shop’s opening, no one could be certain.

Whispers spread: Wang Jie must have a terrifying background.

The next day, a woman arrived.

She wore a veiled hat, concealing her face, and sat across from Wang Jie. “I want to try.”

Wang Jie studied her for a moment. “You and I have fate. One hundred starsea stones.”

She paid without hesitation.

“What troubles you lately?” Wang Jie asked.

“You can’t tell?” she replied coolly.

“If you tell me, it’s easy,” Wang Jie said. “If you don’t, I’ll have to work harder.”

“I won’t tell you,” she said. “If you solve it, I’ll pay more.”

Wang Jie laughed softly. “No need. One hundred is one hundred.”

Then his gaze sharpened. “Your face.”

The woman lifted her veil.

She was beautiful, her temperament gentle. Her eyes held a fragile softness, and yet something deep and unfathomable hid behind it.

A faint pill-fragrance clung to her, clean and pleasant.

Wang Jie stared at her for a long moment—then closed his eyes.

An hour passed.

Outside, people gathered again, whispering.

Finally, Wang Jie opened his eyes. “Everyone has a cause from a past life, some good, some bad.”

“In your past life,” he said bluntly, “you had no manners.”

The woman’s brow tightened. “What did you say?”

“I mean who you used to be,” Wang Jie said calmly. “That’s why you’re suffering retribution now.”

He leaned forward slightly. “Have you ever respected an old man?”

The woman’s heart jolted.

Lately, an invisible pressure had been driving her to do two things.

Help an old person cross the street. And look once upon the creator of a technique.

She had done the first—because it was clear enough.

But the second? Look at who? The creator of what?

The pressure had tormented her to the point she couldn’t refine pills, couldn’t cultivate, couldn’t settle her mind.

She had sought out powerful cultivators—true hidden seniors who lived quietly within Zhi Academy. Even they couldn’t find any trace of an attack or influence.

Yesterday she had heard what happened with Yi Hao. Yi Hao wouldn’t speak. So she came herself.

For a moment, she wanted to accuse Wang Jie—yet that made no sense. If he could hide something even those reclusive seniors couldn’t detect, he wouldn’t need such a clumsy method.

If he wasn’t responsible…

Then he truly could see what others couldn’t.

She took a slow breath. “How do I solve it?”

“You owe someone an apology,” Wang Jie said.

Her mind jumped at once. The technique creator.

“Who?” she asked tightly.

“I don’t know the name,” Wang Jie said. “I can only see the face.”

“I want to see,” she said.

Wang Jie raised his hand.

The air seemed to ripple as he traced strokes into the void, lines forming a face—one he’d once glimpsed long ago, on the journey from Deepweight Star back toward the Shuanghua region, when he’d heard distant music and seen a middle-aged man in passing.

He hadn’t meant anything by it. The memory had surfaced, and he’d drawn it.

The moment the final stroke fell—

Music returned.

Wang Jie’s blood turned to ice. His face went deathly pale.

Across from him, the woman heard it too.

She stared at the face, frozen, as if dragged out of Nine Nether’s frost—cold beyond feeling.

Both of them felt it at once: an indescribable gaze, watching them.

Wang Jie snapped his hand through the air, dispersing the drawing. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His body trembled uncontrollably.

The woman shook as well, lips parted, breath shallow.

It felt as though they’d been yanked into a world outside all understanding.

As if they’d brushed the edge of life and death.

Only after a long moment did the warmth of the sun seem to return.

Wang Jie forced himself to breathe and looked at her. “Are you all right?”

Her throat bobbed. Fear filled her eyes. “What… was that?”

“You heard it too?” Wang Jie asked.

She nodded, barely.

Wang Jie looked away, gooseflesh still rising on his skin. The fear in his bones refused to fade.

He swallowed and said, “That was… a cause from your past life.”

It was a lie. A convenient one.

The woman’s expression shifted completely. Wang Jie hadn’t lied about the feeling—she’d experienced it too. That terror hadn’t been something you could fake.

As she sat there shaking, Wang Jie silently used Silver Radiance Art within his field to recreate a card.

The instant the card was remade, the woman’s agitation vanished as if it had never existed.

Her eyes widened.

Relief surged—and then awe, even deeper than before.

She rose and bowed deeply. “My name is Su Le. Thank you, Master, for saving me.”

Wang Jie’s voice was tired. “I took your money and solved your problem. There’s no need to thank me.”

Su Le looked at him steadily. “Master said we have fate. How long will this fate last?”

Wang Jie met her gaze. “How long do you want it to last?”

Su Le’s eyes flickered, confused. “That man… what does he have to do with me?”

Wang Jie kept his face still. “You don’t need to know. The cause has been settled. Go do what you should do.”

Su Le hesitated, then nodded. Before she left, she offered her contact information. “If Master runs into trouble, contact me.”

Wang Jie watched her go and felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Of course he knew who she was.

Su Le.

One of Xu Yang’s people. Xu Yang was the highest-ranked figure in Zhi Academy’s alchemy branch, a master alchemist. Beneath Xu Yang, the most prominent were Su Le and Yi Hao.

Wang Jie thought back to that music and shuddered.

Never again.

He still didn’t understand why drawing that man had summoned the sound.

Instinct told him that if it had lasted longer, something truly horrific—something beyond comprehension—would have happened.

He closed the shop and rested.

“Master, wait,” someone called outside. “Please read me. Here are one hundred starsea stones.”

Wang Jie glanced at the man. No card. No “fate.”

“You and I have no fate,” Wang Jie said flatly. “I won’t read you.”

“I can pay one thousand starsea stones,” the man insisted.

Wang Jie’s eyes narrowed. A normal person didn’t throw around that kind of money for a reading.

“No,” Wang Jie said. “Not even for ten thousand.”

“You can’t do it,” the man shouted. “You’re a fraud!”

Wang Jie shut the door without another word.

He was still shaken. He needed time.

—

Elsewhere, Su Le returned to Xu Yang.

Xu Yang studied her with concern. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Su Le said.

Then she looked him in the eye. “Don’t trouble that man again. No matter what Zhi Upper Realm says.”

Most people believed Su Le was Xu Yang’s disciple or junior. In truth, Xu Yang’s attitude toward her was far more respectful than that.

“Is there something special about him?” Xu Yang asked carefully. “He has Zhi Xingxue behind him.”

Su Le frowned. “Regardless of who stands behind him—don’t offend him.”

Xu Yang nodded at once. “Understood.”

“And the people from the artifacts path and arrays path?” Xu Yang asked.

“Not our concern,” Su Le said.

—

Wang Jie rested for three full days before reopening.

The first person to enter was Gao Chi.

Ji Zheng had dragged him here to deal with Wang Jie—planning to frame him, then kill him. But Wang Jie had stayed in the shop so long that no one could move.

Gao Chi had come for a different reason.

He’d heard that Green Grass by the River sold gravity starforce pills.

He was a gravity starforce cultivator himself. He’d lost a competition and ended up in Zhi Academy, resigning himself to a life of quiet decline.

For him, even gravity starstone was rare.

Gravity starforce pills were rarer still.

But when he saw the price, his face tightened.

Too expensive.

Five hundred starsea stones for a single pill.

He was a Roaming-Star Realm expert, and he’d once competed in Black-White Heaven for the position of steward—but he’d failed, lost his gravity unusual planet, and his wealth had been draining away ever since.

How could he afford to buy like this?