Chapter 3: Old Madam, You Lied to Me…
To speak truthfully, Chen Yan no longer felt this situation was merely strange or absurd.
No, at this moment, a flicker of unease and dread stirred in his heart.
Boss Ma narrowed his eyes, studying Chen Yan intently. Then, as though coming to some grand revelation, he chuckled. “How about this, Mister Chen Yan, could I trouble you to pass a message to the Old Madam? Tell her that Little Ma of West Lake wishes for an audience. I wonder if I am blessed with such fortune.”
Little Ma of West Lake?
Chen Yan’s mind swirled with questions, but he carefully chose his words. “Uh… The Old Madam is home. Our door is never locked, and the village elders often drop by to take a few cloves of garlic or chat. If you want to see her, you can just knock.”
Boss Ma laughed heartily—then, suddenly, his mirth vanished.
“Mister Chen Yan, there is something you may not know. Back then, when the Old Madam saw me, she left me with a single rule.”
“What rule?”
Boss Ma sighed. “She said that when she divines fate for a mortal, it is destined to be but a single meeting.”
A single meeting?
“It means that anyone who seeks their fate from her shall meet her only once. After that, never again in this lifetime. She said that a prosperous fate is decreed by the heavens, and should she reveal too many celestial secrets, it would diminish her own lifespan.”
Boss Ma chose his words carefully, as if treading upon thin ice.
A single meeting?
Heavenly secrets?
Diminishing lifespan?
These were all phrases one would expect in a fantastical martial tale.
Wait a minute—Boss Ma, aren’t you confusing yourself? The one investing in fantasy novels is another Boss Ma, not you!
Boss Ma looked somewhat embarrassed, even a little ashamed. “It’s just… The Old Madam helped me too greatly! I owe her a debt as profound as rebirth. Without her guidance back then… I would not be the man I am today.
“After achieving success, I have attempted countless times to seek another audience with her—only to be turned away each time.”
As Chen Yan listened, a terrifying realization clawed its way into his heart.
Boss Ma sighed again. “Recently, I have encountered grave troubles. With no other choice, I sought to meet her once more. But, knowing I might be refused, I thought I could at least speak to her family… to plead for an exception. That is why I had you brought here today.”
Chen Yan’s hand trembled.
Boss Ma hesitated. “I know this must sound crude and selfish. I admit… it is shameful. Mister Chen Yan, I apologize! I sincerely apologize! I will punish myself with a drink!”
He lifted his cup.
Buzz!
From the moment he stepped into this room, Chen Yan had been caught in a whirlwind of disbelief. This absurdity had left him dazed and speechless.
But now—
An explosion of clarity erupted in his mind!
In an instant, a single thought filled every corner of his consciousness.
Chen Yan shot to his feet!
His mind reeled, yet his face remained expressionless.
If the Old Madam was not merely an eccentric but a true master of the hidden arts…
Then—
That prophecy of his dwindling lifespan—
A shiver ran down Chen Yan’s spine.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke woodenly, “Apologies, Boss Ma. I need to return home. Immediately.”
He turned and bolted for the exit.
The black-clad guards at the door moved to block him, but Boss Ma barked, “Let him pass! Send a car—escort Mister Chen Yan!”
The car screeched to a halt at the village entrance.
Chen Yan leapt out, sprinting all the way home. As he neared his doorstep, his legs grew weak.
This time, the fear was real.
The main hall stood open.
Inside, the Old Madam sat leisurely, peeling fresh green soybeans.
For some reason, the sight of this simple act made Chen Yan’s heart settle just a little.
“You’re back?” The Old Madam looked up, flicked away a soybean pod, then reached for a cigarette from the pack on the table. She lit it, took a slow drag, and exhaled with practiced ease.
“Old Madam…” Chen Yan called out, his voice tense.
She smiled, eyes crinkling. “That feast Boss Ma prepared—you didn’t take a single bite, did you?”
Buzz!
Chen Yan’s mind erupted into chaos!
His breath turned shallow. “You… You knew?”
The Old Madam beamed. “I foresaw that Boss Ma would seek you out. You’re not a fool—you would put the pieces together. And then… naturally, you would run straight back home. Am I wrong?”
“I…” Fear laced Chen Yan’s voice.
“These soybeans were peeled this morning. I’ll fry them for you at lunch. Sound good?” Her voice was unusually gentle. Kind.
“Grandma…” Chen Yan’s voice shook.
The Old Madam sighed, placing down her cigarette. Slowly, she walked to his side, raising a wrinkled hand to gently stroke his face.
“You always call me Old Madam, but suddenly today, you call me Grandma.”
“I… I’m scared…”
Chen Yan shuddered. “Is… Is all of this real?”
“Mm.” She nodded, still smiling. “It’ll be the last time I cook for you, though. There won’t be another chance.”
Her fingers lightly pinched his cheek. “My dear boy, you’ve already grown so much. I have to stand on my toes just to pat your head now.”
Thud!
Chen Yan fell to his knees, gazing up at her with reddened eyes. His throat was parched, his voice barely a whisper.
“Grandma… Is it true? Is it really true?”
She ran her hand through his hair, her voice steady and warm. “Destiny is destiny, child. Do not be afraid. Shh… Do not be afraid.”
How could he not be afraid?
Twenty years. From the age of two to twenty-two.
From his earliest memories—
No father. No mother. From childhood to now, the only figure in his world was the Old Madam before him.
“Alright, alright, let me finish stir-frying the soybeans first.”
“I don’t want to eat!” Chen Yan clung tightly to the Old Madam’s leg, his grip trembling with desperation. “I just want you to live! Grandmother, you must not die! Aren’t you powerful? Isn’t there a way to save yourself?
Didn’t you say before that you knew magic arts and possessed divine powers?
Grandmother! You must not die! Please!”
The Old Madam lowered her head, looking at Chen Yan with an expression full of unreadable emotions. She seemed to hesitate, words caught on the tip of her tongue. “Actually… there is…”
“What is it? What do you mean?!” Chen Yan shot up from the ground as if a spark of hope had been ignited within him. “Tell me! What do you mean? You have a way, don’t you? You do, right?!”
The Old Madam’s voice was heavy, carrying a weight that seemed too great to bear. “A way… well, there is one. But it is difficult.”
“Even if it’s difficult, we must do it! What is it?!”
The Old Madam took a deep breath, her expression solemn.
“Three things are needed.”
“Tell me what they are! I’ll go get them immediately!”
“First, I need the freshest sprout from the highest branch of the ancient willow at the Village Entrance Riverside. Willow trees belong to the yin, and they are the best conduits for connecting yin and yang. That sprout, stripped of its bark, must be peeled down to the most tender segment.”
“I’ll go pluck it! What else?”
“Second, behind the Dilapidated Temple on the Southern Hill Slope, at the position corresponding to the Heavenly Gang Numerology, you must dig out an Earth Stone imbued with the essence of the land. That stone must be half-black, half-white, warm to the palm but chilling on the back.”
“Alright! I’ll dig it up! What’s the third?”
A trace of hesitation flashed in the Old Madam’s eyes. “The third… is the hardest.”
“Tell me! Just say it!”
Her gaze deepened, carrying the weight of an unspoken truth. “The Life-Extending Spell is, in truth, a Borrowed Life Technique. If you wish to extend my life, it must be borrowed—from someone close to me. This magic requires that a portion of their lifespan be sacrificed. Ten years, to be precise.
Chen Yan, do you understand? It requires ten years of lifespan…”
“I’ll give it!” Chen Yan interrupted without hesitation. “Not just ten years—twenty, if need be!”
“My good grandson… Grandmother cannot bear to do this to you…”
“I said I’ll do it!” Chen Yan’s voice was firm, his resolve unshaken. “A sprout from the willow tree, the yin-yang stone, and ten years of my lifespan! That’s all it takes, right?”
“…Yes.”
“Good!” Chen Yan’s expression was resolute. “I will retrieve the willow sprout! I will dig up the stone! Just wait for me! I’ll get them for you!!”
Watching Chen Yan dash out the door, a flicker of strange light danced in the Old Madam’s eyes. “Remember,” she called after him, “the Village Entrance Willow Tree. The Southern Hill Slope, where the Heavenly Gang Numerology dictates! When you were young, I taught you that method of calculation. Do you still remember it?”
“I remember! I remember!” Chen Yan nodded frantically, his figure already vanishing into the distance.
The Old Madam watched his retreating form, a soft smile appearing on her face. Then she turned, lit another cigarette, took a few slow puffs, and glanced at the half-peeled green soybeans on the table. Rising to her feet, she carried them into the kitchen.
The fire was already burning strong atop the stove.
—
Chen Yan ran as if his life depended on it, reaching the old willow tree at the Village Entrance Riverside in record time.
This tree had stood for countless years—he had spent much of his childhood playing beneath its sprawling branches. The villagers often spoke of its age, estimating it to be several decades, if not centuries old.
Yes. This tree must have mystical properties!
Without hesitation, Chen Yan leapt onto the tree. As a child raised in the countryside, climbing was second nature to him.
Scrambling through the dense canopy, he searched tirelessly. At last, he found several tender sprouts at the highest branches. Unable to determine the absolute freshest one, he gathered them all, stuffing a large handful into his shirt.
Jumping down, he tucked the willow sprigs securely into his arms before sprinting towards the Southern Hill Slope.
The second task—the Earth Stone hidden behind the Dilapidated Temple!
His heart pounded with urgency, but in his haste, his foot suddenly caught on an uneven patch of ground. With a jarring crash, he tumbled forward, his elbows scraping against the rough dirt, drawing blood. The willow sprigs scattered across the earth.
Chen Yan shot up immediately, scrambling to collect the fallen branches. But as he reached for them, his movements froze.
Something felt off.
A chilling realization struck him, and his hands trembled as he fumbled for his phone. His mind raced back to the Old Madam’s words the night before:
“Your lifespan… you have eighteen hours and forty-three minutes remaining.”
At the time, it had been around six o’clock in the evening.
If he counted forward eighteen hours and forty-three minutes from that moment…
That meant she would pass away at approximately one o’clock this afternoon.
Chen Yan’s eyes darted to his phone screen.
12:57 PM.
Three minutes left.
His breath caught in his throat. The willow sprigs slipped from his grasp as he bolted towards home with every ounce of strength he possessed.
—
The door was shut.
Chen Yan pushed it open with all his might. The main hall was empty.
On the table, beneath the mesh food cover, sat a steaming plate of stir-fried soybeans with shredded pork.
His body felt as if all its strength had been drained. Panic seized him as he stumbled towards the Old Madam’s bedroom, shoving the door open.
His legs gave way.
Inside the room, the bed had been neatly made with fresh bedding.
The Old Madam lay upon it, clad in a pristine ceremonial burial robe, its red and green hues arranged immaculately. Her hands were folded across her chest.
She lay there, her expression serene, just as he had always known her.
But her breath was gone.
“Old Madam… you lied to me…”
With a dull thud, Chen Yan collapsed to his knees.
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Aww she didn’t want him to see her when she passed