Divination

In this world, there are folks touched by the divine—sky-gazing diviners who nail it nine times out of ten. Their one other gift? Attracting every foul spirit in sight.

Xun Ruosu ran a little stall on a weathered old street. She did just three readings a day: glad tidings only, happy occasions and red-letter days, never woes or ill omens. A couple of coins kept body and soul together; if not, she went hungry. It was a life of easygoing contentment, taking what came.

That all changed when her time drew near. She climbed into her coffin early, lying back with eyes closed to await the end. But then the Xun Family Ancestral Grave belched a plume of green smoke, and from it crawled a stunning beauty clad in red. She called herself the Ten Palaces Wheel-Turning King, Xue Tong.

The beauty shook the coffin for all she was worth. “Get up, get up! You can’t sleep here!”

Xun Ruosu blinked. “…This isn’t sleeping. This is shutting my eyes for good.”

From that day on, Xun Ruosu’s life turned into a grind: exorcise customers with hauntings, and if none showed up, drum up some trouble just to send spirits packing.

The chill, go-with-the-flow diviner who played dead unless dragged upright, and the restless workaholic who itched for chaos.