Chapter 58: The Red Thread

After saying that, she didn’t give Xiong Yibai any chance to refuse at all. She turned around and dove straight into the bustling crowd nearby, disappearing from sight.

“…………”

Xiong Yibai watched her retreating back, feeling somewhat speechless.

She shook her head and continued making the Fortune Bag that was gradually taking shape.

Meanwhile,

Feng Miwan still sat alone by the quiet tea stall, her head lowered. Her heart felt like it was stuffed with a damp clump of cotton—heavy and stifling.

The tea stall owner was an old lady with graying hair and a kind face.

She carried an ancient-looking teapot over and poured Feng Miwan a cup of warm chrysanthemum tea. Her gaze fell on Feng Miwan’s profile, which was etched with worry, and she asked softly:

“Little miss, do you have something on your mind? Coming to the Moon Elder Temple to pray for marriage is supposed to be a happy occasion, so why are you sitting here all alone, looking so downcast?”

Feng Miwan looked up, meeting the old lady’s eyes, which seemed to see through the ways of the world. Her nose tingled, and she couldn’t help but pour out her heart in a low voice:

“Granny, I’ve fallen for someone. She’s wonderful, truly wonderful.”

“But… I’m not sure if she likes me back.”

“And… and today, it seems like I saw a really strong rival…”

She recalled the handsome boy standing beside Xiong Yibai, and her heart ached again.

The old lady smiled knowingly and slowly sat down on the wooden stool across from Feng Miwan.

Just then, a gentle breeze blew from the direction of the Moon Elder Temple. A fresh red silk thread, blown down from one of the prayer racks, fluttered through the air and landed right beside the old lady’s wrinkled hand.

The old lady picked up the red thread, examined it in her palm, and then looked up at Feng Miwan:

“Little miss, fate is like this red thread in the wind sometimes—seemingly drifting unpredictably. But in truth, whose hand it’s meant to tie to has long been destined. What it fears most, though, is a hesitant heart.”

She stroked the red thread in her hand.

“Here’s an old story about the Moon Elder Temple that’s been passed down in Tanzhou for ages. Let me tell it to you.”

Feng Miwan nodded.

The old lady began her tale:

“Legend has it that long ago, there lived a particularly diligent Moon Elder in our Moon Elder Temple.

“He had a little attendant by his side, responsible for organizing the marriage ledgers and red threads.

“One time, the little attendant made a mistake and misread a single character in the names of a fated pair. As a result, a good match that was supposed to appear in Miss A’s old age got wrongly tied to Miss B—a woman who somewhat resembled Miss A but whose fate with her was still shallow—in her youth.

“When the Moon Elder discovered it, he didn’t immediately cut the mistaken red thread. Guess what he said?”

The old lady paused, looking into Feng Miwan’s eyes.

Feng Miwan shook her head.

The old lady continued slowly:

“The Moon Elder said: ‘Once the thread is tied, it becomes an opportunity. If Miss A has the courage in her heart to pursue the one she truly desires, undeterred by the illusory shadow before her eyes, then this wrong thread will naturally fall away, and her true fate will arrive. But if she grows timid, clinging to the spot and lamenting the unfairness of destiny, she may miss it forever. As for Miss B, if her heart belongs to another and she remains unmoved by the external thread, the mistaken fate cannot take root.’

“And later,”

The old lady gently placed the red thread on the table,

“Miss A, just like you at first, saw that ‘red thread’ tied to Miss B’s hand and grew disheartened.

“But in the end, she mustered her courage and confessed her true feelings to the person she admired. And guess what?

“Just as her heart settled, that wrongly tied red thread naturally loosened from Miss B’s wrist.

“It turned out that Miss B already had someone in her heart, and that erroneous red thread had never truly been fastened.

“So, little miss, sometimes the rival you see might just be a smokescreen set by fate—a test.

“It tests your true heart, your courage, and your ability to discern the truth.

“A red thread that seems tied to someone else’s hand isn’t necessarily set in stone.

“What matters is the true red thread in your own heart—whose hand do you want to tie it to firmly?

“And are you willing, for the sake of securing it, to bravely take that step, to seek clarity, to fight for it?”

With that, the old lady finished her story and gently pushed the small red thread toward Feng Miwan, as if handing her a choice.

Feng Miwan stared dazedly at the vivid red thread on the table, savoring the old lady’s words.

“What you see may not be the truth… It tests courage and true heart…”

The image of Xiong Yibai hanging the Fortune Plaque side by side with that boy resurfaced, but this time, beyond the scene, another possibility seemed to emerge.

Who exactly was that boy?

Was their relationship really what she had imagined?

Had she… jumped to conclusions too soon, lacking the courage to verify and fight for it?

She pulled out the one-yuan coin Xiong Yibai had given her from her pocket, recalling Xiong Yibai’s words:

“The only thing that can define your fate is your choice and action right now.”

This merged with the old lady’s words: “Whether the red thread holds firm depends on whether you dare to reach out and tie it tight.”

Yes!

How could she have forgotten?

She, Feng Miwan, was no longer the coward on the racetrack who waited for fate’s favor and relied solely on a “lucky coin”!

Wasn’t love the same?

Just because of a blurry image, an unverified guess, was she going to cower here like a deserter, doubting herself? That wasn’t her!

What you see may not be the truth. That was the old lady’s reminder.

To get the truth, you need courage to verify it. That was her own racing creed.

To gain happiness, you need action to seize it. That was the lesson Xiong Yibai had taught her!

That coin shouldn’t be a curse dictating her emotions anymore—it should be a token reminding her that “fate is in her own hands”!

That red thread shouldn’t float ethereally waiting for the Moon Elder to bestow it—it should be tied by her own hands, bravely, to the person she wanted to hold onto!

She abruptly stood up from the wooden stool, clutching the coin and the red thread tightly. Then she flashed a smile at the old lady:

“Granny! Thank you! I get it now! I really get it!”

She turned to rush toward the Moon Elder Temple.

At that moment, Zhao Shutong returned, carrying several bags of snacks and with a candied hawthorn stick in her mouth.

Seeing Feng Miwan poised like she was charging into battle, she froze for a second:

“Miwan? Where are you off to? I bought the stuff—come try it, it’s still hot!”

Feng Miwan didn’t stop, shouting back over her shoulder as she hurried away:

“Shutong, I have something urgent—I need to clear it up right now! Wait for me here!”

Before her words faded, she had already dashed back into the thronging crowd and vanished from sight.