Chapter 13: The Fortune Teller's Guild

The absence hit her like a physical blow. For twenty-eight years, Chen Wei had carried a warmth in her chest—a low, constant hum she'd never consciously noticed until it stopped. Now there was only cold. A hollow space where her father's memory should have been, and in its place, a silence that screamed.

She couldn't remember his face.

That was the first thing she lost. His face. Then his voice. Then the smell of him—cigarette smoke and sandalwood, she remembered that from somewhere, didn't she? The details were slipping away like water through her fingers, and she couldn't hold on to any of them.

"Stop," she gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. "What did you do?"

Liang Xun stepped into the shop, his expensive leather shoes clicking against the old wooden floor. He moved like a man who owned every room he entered, and right now, he did. Her grandfather lay motionless beside her. Mei Lin was crumpled in the corner, surrounded by broken talismans. Chen Wei was on her knees, the weakest she'd ever been.

"I didn't do anything." Liang Xun stopped a few feet away, looking down at her with those patient eyes. "I simply reminded your blood whose it is. Your father's thread was the last thing keeping your power chained. Now that it's gone, you're free."

"Free?" She laughed, but it came out broken. "You just took my memories of him."

"Temporary side effect. The thread was a tether, and tethers work both ways. You were bound to his bones, and his bones are bound to the cage that holds me." He crouched down to her level, and she got her first real look at his face. He was handsome in that way old money always is—sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, eyes that had seen too much and judged everything. "I don't want to hurt you, Chen Wei. I never did. Your mother was a remarkable woman, and you're her daughter. But I've waited thirty years to be whole again, and I'm done waiting."

"Then why not just find the bones yourself?"

"Because I can't." He said it simply, without shame. "Your mother was clever. She bound the bones to her bloodline, to the women who came after her. I can sense them, but I can't touch them. Only someone who shares your mother's blood can retrieve them. Only you."

Chen Wei's mind raced, trying to piece together what the ghost had told her. Her father's bones were the key to the cage. They were also the key to her own power. And Liang Xun needed her to destroy them so he could break free completely.

"So you're saying I'm your only hope."

"I'm saying we have a common goal. You want to know who you are. I want to be free of this half-existence. Your father's bones can give us both what we want."

"And if I refuse?"

Liang Xun tilted his head, and for a moment, he looked almost sad. "Then I'll kill your grandfather. Then I'll kill your assistant. Then I'll burn this shop to the ground and find another way to draw you out." He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his suit. "I've waited thirty years. I can wait a few more. But they can't. That's the beauty of mortality, Chen Wei—it makes people so predictable."

She looked at her grandfather, at the shallow rise and fall of his chest. She looked at Mei Lin, who was stirring now, her eyes glassy but alive. These were the only people she had left. The only family she had left.

"Fine," she said, the word tasting like ash. "What do you need me to do?"

Liang Xun smiled, and it was the most human expression she'd seen on him. "That's more like it. Your father's bones are hidden somewhere in Shanghai. Your mother made sure they'd be close to her—she always was sentimental. I've narrowed it down to three locations. You'll come with me to each one, and you'll tell me when you feel the connection."

"And then?"

"And then you'll break the bones. It's the only way to release the binding completely."

Chen Wei's stomach turned. "My father's bones. You want me to destroy my father's remains."

"I want you to free us both." He extended his hand. "We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the way that leaves bodies in our wake. Your choice."

She stared at his hand. It was perfectly manicured, the nails clean, the skin smooth. A hand that had never done a day of honest work in its existence. A hand that had killed her father.

A hand that was offering her the truth.

"One condition," she said. "My grandfather and Mei Lin go free. You don't touch them. You don't follow them. They walk out of here, and they're safe."

"You have my word."

"The word of a creature who's been lying for thirty years. Forgive me if I don't find that reassuring."

Liang Xun laughed, and it was a genuine sound, warm and full. "Your mother would have said the same thing. She never trusted me either. It's what I admired most about her." He withdrew his hand. "Very well. I'll give you something more than my word. I'll give you a truth."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a photograph, worn at the edges, faded with age. He held it out to her, and she took it with trembling fingers.

It was a picture of three people. A young woman with sharp features and bright eyes—her mother, Chen Wei realized with a jolt. She'd never seen a photo of her mother as a young woman. The family had kept only the formal portraits, the ones where she looked stern and distant. In this one, she was laughing, her hair loose around her shoulders, her arm wrapped around a man who looked at her like she hung the moon.

Her father.

And next to them, slightly apart, was Liang Xun. He was younger, softer, his eyes holding a warmth that the man in front of her had long since lost.

"We were friends once," he said quietly. "Your mother, your father, and I. We grew up together in the same compound, studied under the same masters. Your mother was the most gifted fortune-teller of our generation. Your father was the most loyal man I've ever known. And I—" He paused, a flicker of something crossing his face. "I was the one who wanted more."

"What happened?"

"Your mother discovered something she shouldn't have. A future that shouldn't exist. She tried to stop it, and she used your father's bones to seal me away because I was the only one who could help her." Liang Xun's eyes met hers. "She didn't kill me, Chen Wei. She imprisoned me. There's a difference. And now, thirty years later, I'm offering you the same choice she had."

"Which is?"

"Save the people you love, or save yourself." He smiled, and there was no warmth in it. "Your mother chose to save everyone else. It cost her everything. It cost her you."

Chen Wei looked at the photograph again. Her mother's smile. Her father's adoring gaze. Three friends who had been torn apart by fate.

"Take me to the first location," she said.

Liang Xun nodded, and something in his posture shifted—a tension releasing, a victory barely contained. "Your grandfather and assistant will be safe. I've already given the order."

"Given the order to who?"

"My people. They've been watching the shop since you opened it." He turned and walked toward the door, pausing at the threshold. "Did you really think I'd come alone?"

Chen Wei looked around the shop. The shelves of antiques. The dusty corners. The space that had been her sanctuary for the past five years. She'd never noticed the shadows that seemed to shift, the faint presence of watching eyes.

She'd been blind.

"Let me say goodbye to them first."

Liang Xun inclined his head. "Five minutes. No more."

He stepped outside, and Chen Wei crawled to her grandfather's side. His breathing was still shallow, but his eyes flickered open at her touch. They were hazy, unfocused, but they found hers.

"Wei..." His voice was barely a whisper. "Don't."

"I have to. If I don't, he'll kill you."

"Death isn't the worst thing." Her grandfather's hand found hers, his grip surprisingly strong. "He's lying to you. He's always lied. Your mother—"

"I know. But I have to try."

"Listen to me." He pulled her closer, his lips almost touching her ear. "Your father's bones aren't in Shanghai. They never were. Your mother moved them the night she created the cage. She told me where. She knew this day would come."

Chen Wei's breath caught. "Where?"

Her grandfather's eyes met hers, and in them, she saw a lifetime of secrets, of sacrifices, of love that had cost him everything. "The Jade Buddha Temple. The one in the back, the small one, the one they say was never consecrated. Your father's bones are buried beneath it."

"But Liang Xun said—"

"Liang Xun is a liar. He's been lying for three decades, and he'll keep lying until the day he's finally destroyed." Her grandfather's grip tightened. "You can't break the bones, Wei. If you do, you'll release him completely. You have to destroy them—yes—but you have to do it with fire. Pure fire. The kind that comes from the heart of a phoenix."

"The heart of a phoenix? I don't even know what that means."

"You will. When the time comes, you'll know." He coughed, blood flecking his lips. "Your mother left you more than just her gift. She left you her fire. You just have to be willing to burn."

"Time's up." Liang Xun's voice came from the doorway.

Chen Wei pressed her forehead to her grandfather's. "I'll come back. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." He smiled weakly. "The bones are the key. But the fire is the lock. Remember that."

She stood, steadying herself, and walked toward the door. At the threshold, she paused and looked back. Mei Lin had crawled to her grandfather's side, her hand on his chest, her eyes fixed on Chen Wei.

"I'll find you," Mei Lin said. "Whatever happens, I'll find you."

Chen Wei nodded, and then she stepped out into the night.

Liang Xun was waiting beside a black sedan, its engine running. He opened the door for her with exaggerated courtesy. "Where to first?"

Chen Wei looked at him, at the man who had been her mother's friend, her father's killer, her family's curse. She thought about the ghost's words. She thought about her grandfather's warning. She thought about the photograph, still clutched in her hand.

"The Jade Buddha Temple," she said. "I want to see the unconsecrated shrine."

Something flickered in Liang Xun's eyes. Surprise? Recognition? It was gone before she could read it. "An interesting choice. Your mother loved that temple."

"She loved a lot of things." Chen Wei climbed into the car. "Before they were taken from her."

Liang Xun slid into the driver's seat, and the car pulled away from the curb. Through the rear window, Chen Wei watched her shop grow smaller and smaller until it disappeared entirely.

She looked down at her chest, at the place where the white thread had been. The cold was still there, but beneath it, something else was stirring. A warmth. A flicker.

A fire, waiting to be fed.

The car cut through the neon-lit streets of Shanghai, past skyscrapers and old alleyways, past the future and the past intertwined. And in the back seat, Chen Wei began to plan.

Liang Xun thought he was taking her to destroy the bones.

He didn't know she was