LMBYE 7
"This peach blossom of yours might fly away quickly."
"I'm a Taoist priest."
Ning Ci looked at him, noticing his unserious demeanor, and worried that he might tear off the talisman after he left. In the end, he reminded him again. The talisman was made with yellow paper soaked in incense and the highest quality cinnabar water—it had to be used properly, or Ning Ci would feel distressed.
"Little Taoist?"
But Ning Ci’s tense little face had no deterrent effect on Lou Zhengdu—if anything, it was just cute.
After all, when people think of Taoist priests, the first image that comes to mind is some swindler under a bridge with a poster of handsome facial features and acupuncture points. The second is a stern, righteous-looking priest like Lin Zhengying.
But what kind of Taoist priest wears a pure and seductive bunny pajama set, smells like sweet coconut milk body wash, and roams around the dorm at midnight saying he’s craving someone’s body?
Ning Ci nodded seriously, but perhaps realizing he lacked credibility, he did a quick calculation and said, “If you don’t believe me, you can verify it tomorrow morning. You should encounter a peach blossom.”
After saying that, Ning Ci returned to his dorm. What he didn't mention was that it was a biased peach blossom.
In metaphysics, romantic fates are divided into three types:
The first is a destined love that can develop into a true relationship, known as a proper peach blossom.
The second category consists of biased peach blossoms, which are romances with ulterior motives or unstable foundations.
The third is a rotten peach blossom, which means the relationship has turned into misfortune, or even a disaster.
Lou Zhengdu was going to encounter a biased peach blossom the next morning. Strangely enough, this peach blossom seemed to have some kind of future competitive connection with him... Ning Ci couldn't figure it out, so he simply didn't tell him.
Guys should be happy when they hear they have a romantic encounter coming up, right? No need to ruin the fun.
Lou Zhengdu turned off the light, lay in bed, and absentmindedly rubbed the jade Guanyin pendant around his neck—a charm his family had spent a fortune to get crafted for him.
For once, he didn’t tear off the talisman. Normally, if someone tried to dance around in his belief system’s "minefield," he’d make sure they converted to staunch materialists.
His aversion to supernatural beliefs had a reason.
Lou Zhengdu had been an active and athletic kid with a strong physique, theoretically the picture of health. But somehow, his luck was just... terrible.
He signed up for boxing classes at the youth center—the building collapsed.
When he went fishing—fell into the water.e
Later he went on a school trip—the bus broke down.
Though he always got out unscathed, the frequency of these incidents worried his parents. Eventually, they sought out an expert to read his fate.
The results were... unsettling. Many half-baked fortune tellers or those with insufficient skill refused to take on his case, saying it was a noble fate that must not be tampered with. If they tried, they risked shortening their own lifespans in return.
His parents, having no other choice and fearing that word of his fate might spread or be exploited, offered generous hush money to each fortune teller who examined him.
Just as they were about to give up, a surprisingly young-looking Taoist priest agreed to take a look. After a brief visit, the priest left and later returned with this smooth, warm jade pendant, instructing them that Lou Zhengdu must wear it until adulthood.
Ever since then, his streak of bad luck slowly diminished.
Oddly enough, while Lou Zhengdu felt the jade was warm in winter and cool in summer, others couldn't touch it. Anyone who did was overwhelmed with chilling cold, to the point of losing sleep. But Lou Zhengdu dismissed it.
He had a strong constitution, rarely got sick, and could even run around in a thin shirt during winter.
Besides, as a child, he had a keen sense of people's emotions. He would never forget those so-called fortune tellers—each one shaking their heads and saying they "couldn’t read his fate," while greedily pocketing the hush money his parents handed them. Some were even worse, taking the money but still leaking information.
They didn’t dare reveal his birth chart outright, fearing repercussions from his supposed noble fate. But that didn’t stop them from whispering among their peers.
One day, Lou Zhengdu overheard his classmates talking about something strange:
"As long as you have connections and introduce a fortune teller to Lou’s family, both the introducer and the fortune teller get a big payout."
That was the day he beat those kids into the ground.
From then on, he earned the nickname Little Tyrant, a reputation for being violent that stuck with him.
His mother had also suffered from his misfortune—while visiting a temple in search of a cure, she injured her leg and developed a condition that acted up on rainy days. This became a thorn in Lou Zhengdu’s heart, deepening his hatred for anything related to the supernatural.
Chen Jue and Tang Yuan, childhood friends who grew up in the same villa district, never dared mention these things around him. Only Zhang Yang, who met them in middle school and was unaware of Lou Zhengdu’s past, dared to talk about fortune tellers.
But even he—once a fearless loudmouth—was slowly converting from Lou Zhengdu’s blind fan to Ning Ci’s blind believer.
Lou Zhengdu eventually fell asleep amid these scattered thoughts—and had a dream.
In the dream, the usually unsweet-toothed him ordered a bowl of double-skin milk pudding. The dessert was smooth and fragrant, but when he took a bite—it was green tea flavored! Outraged, he stormed up to complain to the owner, only to find...
The owner had a face as soft and delicate as the milk pudding itself.
Lou Zhengdu woke up with a start.
Morning light streamed into the dorm room. He got out of bed, washed up, and ignored the tightness in his pants. After all, he was a healthy young man—it was perfectly normal for him and his little brother to wake up together.
After freshening up, Lou Zhengdu felt refreshed. He had actually slept well for once.
He usually skipped breakfast, relying on his friends to bring him something. But today, his dream still lingered in his mind—the sweetness of the pudding, the strange yet familiar face.
Lost in thought, he reached the dormitory lobby—where he spotted Ning Ci in front of a mirror, adjusting his tie.
Lou Zhengdu: …
Wait, so he was the peach blossom?!
Did this little con artist set up his own prophecy?
Lou Zhengdu barely held back a laugh.
Last night, Ning Ci had seriously foretold that he would meet a peach blossom, only to show up first thing in the morning, waiting downstairs like a peach blossom himself.
This had to be intentional.
Meanwhile, Ning Ci noticed Lou Zhengdu’s odd expression and quickly seized the opportunity. “Can you help me with my tie? I’ve never done it before.”
Lou Zhengdu sighed, stepped forward, and fixed his tie. The faint scent of coconut milk drifted up, and for some reason, his throat bobbed involuntarily.
Damn… now he really wanted some double-skin milk.
(Author’s Note):
Ning Ci: Is there a chance—just a chance—that the "peach blossom" I mentioned wasn’t referring to myself?
