Since it wasn't a direct causal relationship, why not investigate from a different angle?
From beginning to end, was this whole affair a consequence of the Zhao ancestors provoking something and bringing it upon themselves? Or was the Zhao family largely innocent, and someone else, for some purpose, lured or arranged this phenomenon?
“Thank you for the guidance, Lady Ming.” Mi Ke processed the statement and understood Bai Ci's underlying meaning.
If it was self-inflicted, then they would need to delve deep into the Zhao family's hidden secrets before and after the Republican Era, and the past transgressions of their ancestors.
If it was deliberately orchestrated by someone, then behind the scenes, there must be an extremely hidden and terrifying entity at play. Both the peeping paper figures and the family curse could be their doing.
Mi Ke focused her mind and calmed her breathing, once again activating her pendulum and employing her spirit medium class skill, hoping to divine and confirm this core question.
She took a deep breath, keeping her hand steady. The pendulum's swing wasn't powered by her hand's movement, but by an energetic propulsion.
Mi Ke's gaze was fixed on the suspended amethyst. Her entire aura became completely still as she fully immersed herself in the divination.
The next second, the pendulum swung out.
However, it had only completed about a quarter of a large oval swing when something unexpected happened.
Crack—
Followed by a crisp shattering sound, the amethyst exploded. Tiny crystal fragments instantly scattered, spreading across the table. The people seated around the table were also more or less struck by the flying amethyst shards.
Naturally, the one most severely injured was Mi Ke, who was closest to her amethyst pendulum.
She had two shallow scratches on her face, marks left by the sharp crystal fragments as they flew past. They were just scratches, not deep cuts or embedded in her flesh, and even avoided her vulnerable eyes. This outcome was already considered quite lucky.
Wu Suowei, the first to recover, frowned deeply and asked with a serious tone, “Mi Ke, what happened? Why did your pendulum suddenly shatter?”
“Thank you for your protection, Lady Ming,” Wu Daoqing whispered his thanks. He had clearly seen one of the crystal fragments flying directly towards his face.
He was only halfway through dodging when he realized the fragment seemed to have hit an invisible barrier. This obstruction caused it to lose its momentum, and it ultimately dropped straight to the floor.
At this table, the only one who could so subtly and generously protect him was Lady Ming, the Ghost Immortal he revered.
Ah... indeed, the female-voiced Lady Ming—or rather, the Ghost—was truly benevolent.
Bai Ci, who had been momentarily forcibly logged out and then immediately forcibly logged back in when the crystal exploded, felt a pang of shame at this praise, if only she could hear Wu Daoqing's thoughts.
Besides that, Wu Daoqing also pulled his chair a little further from the table, preparing for the possibility that another pendulum might explode.
The archaeologist, however, seemed very interested and learned no lesson, instead reaching for the fragments on the table, picking one up and examining it from all angles.
Ou Li was “Very Interested Number Two,” also gathering fragments from the table, picking up several at once, seemingly contemplating what to make with these seemingly un-magical materials.
Mi Ke took several deep breaths, suppressing the shock in her heart. She slowly shook her head, her expression grave.
“It wouldn't allow us to see. The crystal couldn't bear it and shattered.”
Wu Suowei's gaze sharpened, and he pressed for more details, not letting any go: “Are you sure it 'wouldn't allow us to see,' and not 'couldn't see'? Those are two different situations.”
“It wouldn't allow us to see,” Mi Ke corrected firmly. “'Can't see clearly,' 'can't be seen,' and 'wouldn't allow us to see' are three completely different things. I don't care how you Daoists classify them; as a spirit medium, this is how I categorize them.”
“Among them, 'can't see clearly' doesn't affect the crystal's state.”
“'Can't be seen' usually means the information would corrupt the user, so the crystal rapidly consumes energy to sever the connection to protect them. After losing a large amount of energy, the crystal becomes dim and dull.”
“'Wouldn't allow us to see,' however, means triggering the other side's anti-scrying countermeasure. The crystal exploded due to a powerful counterattack from the other side, without even a chance to leave a message.”
Ou Li swallowed, gathered the crystal fragments near her, and put them into her vest pocket. She couldn't help but blurt out, with a hint of exasperation, “My heavens.”
“First the peeping paper figures, now an exploding crystal—are we dealing with some ancient monster that's thousands of years old?”
Wu Suowei's expression remained calm, his mind perfectly clear. Hearing Ou Li's words, he calmly presented another possibility.
“Don't be so quick to jump to conclusions. There's another possibility: it might not be the work of the same entity.”
The paper figure technique, which involves lurking and peeping, or a tail-severing escape, leans towards insidious secrecy or intelligence gathering. Methods that seal heavenly secrets, on the other hand, tend to be high-level restrictions that counterbalance fate.
The styles and approaches of these two techniques are completely different, likely originating from two distinct forces or different types of ghosts.
Ou Li paused, then her mouth twitched slightly, and she replied with a wry laugh, “Oh, I get it. It's not one ancient monster, it's two ancient monsters.”
That single sentence lightened the oppressive atmosphere in the room. The tense mood suddenly relaxed, replaced by a sense of helpless and amusing absurdity.
Indeed, one was already troublesome enough. With two, how were honest players like them supposed to clear the instance?
Mi Ke looked at the crystal fragments strewn across the table, gave a helpless laugh, and said with a hint of dejection, “As you can see, my amethyst pendulum item is ruined. My spare new pendulum hasn't been demagnetized yet and is completely unusable in the short term. Until a new pendulum is prepared, I can't perform any more divination or scrying. From now on, I'm completely useless here. For now, I'm just dead weight.”
Everyone's gaze instinctively fell upon Wu Suowei, the only legitimate Heavenly Master in the team. Especially since he had a face that looked like he was very good at posing and presenting himself well?
Wu Suowei calmly shook his head, very pragmatically. “Don't count on me. The Daoist arts I practice are primarily for exorcising evil and suppressing malevolent forces. They're all about head-on combat. I can't possibly detect something sealed by high-level powers like this.”
After he finished speaking, everyone's eyes collectively turned to Wu Daoqing, who had been quiet and well-behaved throughout.
As a rookie Heavenly Master from the legitimate Heavenly Master Association, he might have a broader range of knowledge, having studied basic deduction and divination techniques.
Under everyone's gaze, Wu Daoqing's cheeks flushed slightly. He scratched his head sheepishly and spoke candidly, his tone revealing a touch of youthful awkwardness.
“I... I did learn a bit of basic finger divination and Plum Blossom Divination. It's just the superficial basics, though. Actually, when we went upstairs to rest earlier, I vaguely felt a strange aura in the mansion, so I secretly cast a divination once. But the divination result was completely chaotic and empty. There was no distinction between good and bad fortune, no clear causality—I couldn't deduce anything at all.”
At this point, his tone grew even more helpless.
“I thought it was because my cultivation was too shallow and my techniques weren't refined enough. But now it seems the relevant heavenly secrets have been completely locked down by someone.”
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