Distorted World

Blank.

The heart can carry all things, and its source is the energy that bears everything. External objects are but a grand illusion, manifesting in myriad forms, yet they cannot provide true peace. They leave people with endless pursuits and spiritual confusion.

In a daze, he approaches the mirror, surprised by the premature gray in his hair and the grayness that has spread in his eyes. A mechanical smile, real or fake, is pasted on his face. Only then does he exclaim that in just a few months or years, he seems to have become a completely different person.

Becoming a favorite in Muan Prefecture and fully aligning with Yang Renzhu happened three months ago. He no longer worries about his livelihood, protected by power and status, and no longer faces trouble from foolish and malicious people.

Yang Renzhu chuckles contentedly, believing himself fortunate to have found a kindred spirit. Bai Changming is not only humble and self-possessed, but also insightful and knowledgeable in various esoteric arts. He can dispel worries and offer companionship in conversation, and he knows how to hide his true abilities, appearing wise yet unassuming. Despite his youth, he is willing to give the stage to others, preferring to take a step back rather than bow, devoid of the arrogance displayed by his peers.

Yang Renzhu, having met countless people, sees Bai Changming as a finely crafted treasure sword, elegant and fitting, of course, specifically made for him.

When Yang Renzhu has nothing pressing, he often climbs to the Xuanxing Pavilion in the evenings. Sometimes, when his mood is intense, he calls Bai Changming to join him, treating him as a close friend and leading him to the third floor.

Following Yang Renzhu’s instructions, Bai Changming points out the trajectories of the stars one by one. Yang Renzhu nods in approval, pulls a stack of rice paper from the table, and writes down eight large characters with his brush.

Bai Changming immediately recognized that the paper bore Yang Renzhu's own Eight Characters (BaZi).

People are generally very cautious about their birth Eight Characters and never show them to outsiders. This is especially true for high-ranking officials like Yang Renzhu. The moment the large characters were written, he knew he had gained Yang Renzhu's trust.

However, the concept of "opening one's heart" remained one-sided. It could even be said to be entirely one-sided. In the three months since he arrived in this world, all his "heart-to-heart" interactions had been one-sided. No one, except Water Confession, had ever truly understood his true feelings.

Bai Changming meticulously analyzed Yang Renzhu's Eight Characters, delving into the annual and monthly cycles, and accurately predicted the major trends of his life over the past few decades. He then addressed Yang Renzhu's concerns, understanding the common fear of the unknown fate. He explained in detail how to improve his fortune, avoid evil, and promote good, first building up the tension and then providing reassurance, making his words substantive and meaningful.

Yang Renzhu's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally settled, and the wrinkles on his forehead smoothed out.

“Brother Bai, I’ve met many fortune-tellers before, but none of them were as accurate as you. They were all full of nonsense! They would tell me to buy Buddha statues in the east and change the feng shui in the west, only caring about making money for themselves, and never getting to the core of the matter. According to your words, maintaining good intentions and changing one's character can alter one's destiny, but achieving this is truly difficult.” Yang raised his head and sighed deeply.

Just as Bai Changming was hesitating whether to simply agree with him, Yang Renzhu turned his head and asked, “Changing one’s fate is indeed very difficult. Have you seen any horoscopes that were inaccurate, or any cases where someone successfully changed their fate?”

Bai Changming retracted his words, smiled slightly, and slowly shook his head, like a slow and deliberate knife falling.

A look of expected despondency appeared on Yang Renzhu's face, and he sighed deeply, remaining silent for a long time. Life is as fleeting as morning dew or a mayfly, and one's destiny is predetermined. In the face of history and the times, the pride one takes in oneself is as insignificant as waste paper. In middle age, with limited time left, a profound sense of failure and sorrow enveloped him.

“The will of heaven is hard to defy,” Yang Renzhu lamented heavily, a few strands of white hair fluttering in the wind.

This was the image of the common people that Bai Changming had seen. He understood Yang's pain but did not step forward to comfort him. He had seen too many suffering, fearful, and hopeless beings.

“Sir, you shouldn’t worry too much. Your virtue and blessings are deep, so there is still a chance to change your fate. Besides, even heaven has its blind spots.”

“What do you mean?”

“For example, me.” He whispered softly, his back to Yang Renzhu, his voice carried away by the night wind.

No need to erase memories anymore, he thought.

From Yang Renzhu's weary and dejected demeanor, he savored the pleasure of power. Money, political tactics, anger, and empty illusions filled his void. Loneliness and coldness would still creep into his heart when he was alone, and he threw himself into one pursuit after another, his eyes filled with fervor and rage.