Astrology Hall with Flesh and Blood

Chapter 22

The older woman nodded, looking helpless. "Anywhere is fine. My daughter is tired and can't walk anymore. Besides, once we get to your company, we can take a taxi back. It's easier to take a taxi directly from the taxi company than on the street."

That makes sense. Since the customer didn't mind taking the long way, he was happy to make an extra fare. So the mother carefully helped her daughter into the car. Judging from the girl's stiffness, she really couldn't walk anymore. He turned off the "For hire" sign, and the meter beeped. When it started displaying "5.00," he vaguely remembered that the place where the woman had hailed the car was on Ice Street again.

He cautiously peered into the rearview mirror at the expressions of the two people in the back seat. The girl was even more secretive about herself, and the mother's face was unremarkable, without any distinguishing features. If it weren't for the black faux leather bag on her wrist, which shone so brightly it looked like it was made of mirror, he wouldn't have recognized her as the woman who had gone to the "astrology shop."

Waiting at a red light is always incredibly boring, especially during rush hour. Usually, Xiao Di tries to strike up a conversation with customers at this time, so he casually asked:

"Did you come from that astrology shop or something?"

The mother's face turned deathly pale. "What did you say, an astrology shop?" she cried out hoarsely, her knuckles white from gripping the seat so tightly. "How do you know about this place?"

It seems he's not the only one with a bad memory. After several prompts, his mother finally managed to connect him with the image of the driver from before. "What a coincidence," she murmured to herself. For some reason, something in her tone sent a chill down his spine. He desperately suppressed the urge to turn and look at her.

"What does that astrology shop do?" he asked naturally, though he didn't expect to get the answer he wanted.

This time, the mother answered quite readily. "Astrology, a place to guide people through life's confusion..." She then added, "At least, that's how it seems on the surface."

He couldn't help but become interested, "But what about in reality?"

"The magic hut that grants wishes." It was the daughter's turn to speak, the one who had been silent all along. Incongruous with her age, her voice was dry and hoarse, with a cold, metallic quality that was particularly jarring. When her sharp, metallic sound suddenly erupted, his scalp tingled.

“Simply put, it’s a home of hope for equal exchange, where the astrologer can fulfill any request from his guests,” the mother pressed her cold forehead against the car window, gazing blankly at the pitch-black night sky outside, “as long as you can afford the return he demands.”

"Isn't that great?" he replied easily. "It's a fair trade. Can you tell me what wish he granted you?"

Volume Two: The Taxi Driving Towards Hell (Part Two)

The mother and daughter exchanged a quick glance. Although the daughter's face and expression remained hidden, he clearly felt a thorn in his side; a pair of cold eyes were secretly watching him from behind that long hair. Then the mother, speaking on behalf of the mother, said:

"It's nothing serious, really. For twenty years, my daughter and I have depended on each other. I can't live a single moment without her," she said calmly, yet with a resolute air that no outsider could perceive. "However, last week my daughter suddenly fell ill, almost to the point of death. The doctors in the city were helpless. Then I heard the rumors about the astrology shop..."

"He cured your daughter?" Xiao Di blurted out. "I bet he charged a very high price!"

"Compared to my daughter's life, what is this price!" The mother lovingly embraced her daughter, her deep paternal love touching everyone. However, in Xiao Di's eyes, the scene was truly bizarre. The daughter's face was always hidden by her long hair, yet from the gaps in that thick black hair came bursts of rusty laughter—a sound that would give even the bravest person nightmares. He wished he could cover his ears, never wanting to recall that terrifying laughter again. He had to get them to their destination quickly, the sooner they got off the bus, the better!

Finally seeing the familiar company sign, he breathed a sigh of relief. After parking, he didn't dare look back and shouted into the meter, "Eight yuan, thank you."

There was no sound of rummaging through a wallet. After a long pause, the mother replied quietly:

Are you telling us to get off the bus?

"Yes, you should call another car to go home!"

“But we still want to ride in this car; it’s really comfortable.” The two women sat upright like puppets, the mother’s mouth opening and closing with a strange, stiff smile on her face. What bad luck! They wouldn’t leave! He jumped out of the car and bumped into Old Yu, who was on his night shift and had picked up this car to go to work. He quickly reminded Old Yu that there were two women in the back, and they owed him eight yuan for the fare.

Old Yu ignored him. Only after he leisurely got into the driver's seat did he blow a puff of smoke at Xiao Di, "You brat, you dare lie to me? You clearly drove back alone in an empty car; we all saw it clearly. Trying to fool me? Give me a break!"

He froze, fear creeping up his spine. Behind Old Yu, who was puffing on his cigarette, his mother's pale, eerie smile twisted even wider and more terrifying, while his daughter's pale arm rose inch by inch, segment by segment, her fingertips pointing directly at Old Yu's back. From arm to fingertips, his skin was covered in numerous wounds, blood-red lines, as if the entire arm had been stitched together from fragments. Suddenly, he shuddered, remembering the minor "collision" this car had been involved in last week—so, as the car started moving, he rushed to the window:

"Let me ask one more question: what exactly is wrong with your daughter?"

His mother slowly turned her face toward him; it was a face filled with the unbearable sorrow of a mother.

"Car accident. She died under the tires of this car."

As he spoke, the car drove the two women into the vast darkness. Even after driving quite a distance, Xiao Di could still see the faces of the two equally pale women in the back seat, as white and bright as the morning star in the night. He would never know what price that mother had paid to the astrologer to have her daughter become a zombie, making a brief stay on earth. Perhaps they had both become spirits, desperately searching for the driver to avenge the accident. That mother getting into this taxi twice in one day might not be just a simple "coincidence." It was fate, the inextricable thread of grudge between victim and perpetrator, even if one rests in eternal rest, heaven still tightly binds them together. Now Xiao Di was certain that last week, Lao Yu had given him the car and told him about a minor accident, a tree had dented the bumper—and that tree was none other than his daughter, whose shattered face was hidden by her hair, and whose arms needed stitches. The astrologer fulfilled the mother's wish, and now the two of them are sitting in Lao Yu's car. Where did the three of them go?

In short, it wasn't anywhere in the human world. So from that moment on, Lao Yu and that taxi vanished without a trace, and no living human ever saw him again.

He drove that taxi all the way to the deepest part of hell.

January 27th

Birthday flower: Earthmoss

Flower language: Motherhood

The representative plant of British lichens is the ground moss, which grows abundantly in cultivated fields, plains, and even wastelands. Covering the ground, it's like a warm embrace from Mother Earth. Therefore, the flower language of ground moss is – motherhood.

Those born under the blessing of this flower are gentle, kind, and tolerant; their warmth is enough to capture the heart of their lover. However, they are also often targeted by individuals with Oedipus complexes, so be especially careful!

Volume Two: The Absolute Virgin of the Spider Lily (Part 1)

The discovery of cracks in jade is like marrying a non-virgin—disgusting and unforgivable.

Next week is my wedding day with Cui'er. Six months ago, I bought a top-quality Burmese jadeite bangle, worth 500,000 yuan, as our engagement gift. It's practically the highest grade of jadeite, flawless, smooth as silk, and warm to the touch, without any cotton-like inclusions or impurities. When its shimmering green light shone on her fair wrist, ripples spread throughout the room like gentle autumn water. Faced with such a precious gift, Cui'er didn't rush into my arms with a soft "oh," like other women would. Instead, she blushed and felt shy and uneasy.

I really "value" this point.

I've had enough of the suffering women endure. My first wife deceived me; I only discovered she wasn't a virgin on our wedding night. Looking at her tearful, fragile face, I softened and promised to forgive her. However, in the ensuing married life, the sordid image of her ex-boyfriend constantly haunted my mind. Even when we lay together, I always felt there was a strange man standing between us, mocking us.

How can such a thing be easily forgiven!

Finally, after she died, my wallet was bulging, my back was straight, and my voice was booming. So I plastered my marriage advertisements all over the media. Besides the essential qualities of a woman—a face that could rival the beauty of a legendary beauty, a figure that could shame the moon and shame the flowers, a grace that could stun the frost and snow, and a beauty that could startle the soul—I also emphasized her "purity and chastity." To put it bluntly, I required a virgin, someone with no sexual experience. Only a "hymen examination certificate" from a hospital I specified could guarantee this.

As a multi-millionaire, I easily acquired several virgin wives. However, to my utter disappointment, they either had undergone hymen reconstruction surgery, or, while genuine, were unfaithful after marriage, daring to flirt with younger men right in front of me, not to mention what they did behind my back. Even worse, one woman, angered by my hiring someone to break her lover's legs, yelled at me, calling me old and useless! This life was unbearable! One word: divorce!

But Cui'er was completely different. Learning from past experiences, I specifically donated to a charitable girls' school—the "Graceful Angels" Charitable Girls' Boarding School—becoming one of a dozen sponsors. This school was run by a charitable organization, specifically for pretty girls from impoverished families. The oldest students were no more than twelve years old, and they grew up under the watchful eyes of the female principal, teachers, and counselors until graduation at eighteen. Not even a male bird had ever flown into the school; even the sweepers and gatekeepers were women—ensuring their safety. When I strolled along the sun-drenched corridors, listening to the girls' clear, bell-like laughter, and seeing them raise their innocent faces, presenting me—their benefactor, the great philanthropist—with bouquets of flowers, I always felt a certain part of my body stir again, like it did in my youth, a burning rush of blood to my throat, throbbing and throbbing.

Cui'er stood out from the crowd, like a pure white lily, with fair skin and delicate bones, and a unique virginal fragrance flowing from her very marrow. So I took a liking to her at first sight and patiently waited for her to grow up.

Nearly twenty years have passed since my first wife passed away, and I have finally met the woman of my dreams—a perfect, absolute virgin, both in spirit and body. Cui'er has never seen a man since she was ten, except for me. She has long been instilled with the belief that she will become my bride, so when I proposed, she simply bit her lip shyly, indicating her consent. To match her name, I specially bought a top-quality Burmese dragon stone bracelet, its emerald green hue a testament to our enduring love.

But only six months later, a crack appeared on the jade bracelet.

Even the most expensive and perfect item becomes worthless in my eyes once it has a flaw, and this is especially true for jade. I examined the faint crack on the surface of the jade bracelet. It wasn't deep, but it could easily widen and deepen under further external force, eventually causing the entire bracelet to crack and break, becoming a complete waste. Perhaps heaven was using this jade bracelet to warn me of something? An ominous premonition rose in my heart.

Cui'er is not in the house.

That's not surprising. Actually, I just happened to be there on a whim, and wanted to visit her and discuss next week's wedding. Since I hadn't told her beforehand, it's understandable that she went out for a beauty treatment and shopping.

But this trip took far too long! I waited for a full two hours!

The crack in the jade bracelet gradually widened in my mind, like a hideous wound, growing larger and larger. Though I am old and frail, I can still rummage through the house like a young man, searching from bed sheets to the trash can, leaving no hair unchecked. Sure enough, my discovery confirmed my fears.

There were several half-smoked cigarette butts in the ashtray, and the smell of cheap tobacco almost made me faint.

I quit smoking three years ago after heeding a doctor's warning. These cigarette butts clearly weren't left by her, because I don't allow her to smoke for my health: they came from the mouth of a younger, stronger man than me. I grabbed two of the cigarette butts; perhaps I could get DNA from their saliva.

Before she returned, I quietly slipped away. Filled with a bellyful of doubts, and just to be on the safe side, I took her to have her hymen checked again, but the result was still unwaveringly "intact." Damn it, this proves nothing! Maybe she's deceiving me with an artificial hymen again, or maybe that man has already kissed and caressed her entire body, but hasn't touched her last line of defense! As soon as I marry Cui'er, the adulterous couple will murder my husband to seize my vast fortune… I felt a cold sweat trickle down the back of my neck. Honestly, sometimes wild imaginings are more maddening than witnessing it firsthand.

I launched another surprise attack. This time she was home, but there were several muddy footprints on the entryway floor, each one a good three sizes larger than my feet. She must be a big guy, I thought to myself, probably no match for their young and strong selves.

Volume Two: The Absolute Virgin of the Spider Lily (Part Two)

I launched another surprise attack. This time she was home, but there were several muddy footprints on the entryway floor, each one a good three sizes larger than my feet. She must be a big guy, I thought to myself, probably no match for their young and strong selves.

Although Cui'er seemed a little nervous, she remained composed, probably because the man had already left. I was relieved and watched how she would perform in front of me.

“Mr. Shi,” she began hesitantly, “there’s something… I don’t know if I should tell you.”

A practiced and skillful smile spread across my face—the number 3, amiable smile: specifically designed for handling reporters and television interviews.

"Don't be afraid, just tell me what's wrong."

She then went into the bedroom, I wondered what she was up to. Taking advantage of this moment, I quickly searched everything suspicious. Muddy footprints appeared next to the bathroom doormat. I breathed a sigh of relief, gently pushed with my finger, and the door opened with a click.

There was no one inside.

Before I could even catch my breath, something in the bathroom made me furrow my brow again. Several wads of wet toilet paper were carelessly tossed about next to the toilet, seemingly carrying some unspeakable meaning. I stepped open the trash can lid and peeked inside…

When Cui'er returned to the living room, I was already impatient. She respectfully took out the box containing the jade bracelet, holding it high above her head as if afraid of accidentally dropping and breaking it. I quickly understood why she looked so pitiful when she untied the yellow silk wrapping the jade bracelet.

On the shimmering surface of the jadeite, a gold trim had been added, perfectly concealing the crack. Hmph, she thought that by simply adding a gaudy gold trim, she could perfectly mend the broken jadeite? A flaw is a flaw. No matter how much it's repaired afterward, a jadeite bracelet worth 500,000 yuan can never regain its precious, top-grade value. It only deserves to be alongside those B-grade and C-grade jadeite (B-grade: refers to low-grade jadeite that has been treated with strong acid to remove impurities and colors, retaining the green and purple hues, and then solidified with epoxy resin; the color and texture are natural (real), but the structure has been damaged, and its color and texture will deteriorate over time. C-grade: refers to jadeite and its finished products that have been treated with artificial dyes or chemicals; the jade quality is real, but the color is artificially added) to fool ignorant laymen!

Women are the same! My hand, which had been hidden behind my back, slowly rose, holding a wet, obviously recently removed condom that I'd pulled from Cui'er's trash can… A woman tainted by a man's filthy stench no longer deserves to be my wife! I snatched the jade bracelet and smashed it to the ground, shattering it. I viciously opened my iron-like grip and lunged at the stunned Cui'er…

"Millionaire murders wife out of jealousy, brave police catch him on the spot..." The astrologer slowly read the headline of the newspaper, the entire page filled with eyewitness reports and photos of the scene. "...Not only the police, but also reporters from several newspapers, all coincidentally staked out the victim's home. That's why the girl was lucky enough to escape, but the man wasn't so fortunate." He continued, "'Our police officers followed the clues and finally solved a nineteen-year-old cold case of wife-murder.' Doesn't all of this seem a bit too coincidental?"

He held his head high, as if talking to himself, or perhaps to something floating in the void. Sunlight streamed through a crack in the wall, casting a path of light, while gray dust swirled around. A soft, grating laugh seemed to echo from the air—the voice of a woman, chillingly cold and unsettling.

"You orchestrated all of this, didn't you? Since you're so capable," the astrologer frowned, her beautiful brows furrowing, "why endure such humiliation and wait until now to take revenge? Couldn't you have avenged yourself nineteen years ago and passed away peacefully sooner?"

A woman's cool, mocking laugh filled the air, indicating that she had no need to hide her smugness.

"Twenty years... Ever since he discovered my past on our wedding night, he has never wanted to get rid of me and fulfill his long-cherished wish of 'marrying a virgin.' To force me to divorce him, he beat me, tortured me, and abused me in all sorts of cruel ways—from the honeymoon onwards, I felt like I had fallen into a living hell, living a miserable life. Finally, seeing that I refused to divorce him no matter what, he finally took the drastic step of strangling me to death with his own hands..."

In the tomb-like silence, the astrologer did nothing but listen quietly as she continued. He knew she had been holding it in for far too long.

"Twenty years...that's the longest statute of limitations (Article 87 of the Criminal Law of the People's Republic of China stipulates that for crimes punishable by life imprisonment or death, prosecution is no longer possible after twenty years)." The woman chuckled. "For the past nineteen years, he's lived in constant fear, not a single night has passed without a good night's sleep. He was just a few months away from escaping legal punishment forever. And now, hmph...I'm going to make him think the statute of limitations is about to expire, to make him collapse just before he can rest easy, to plunge him into the net of death and the abyss of despair. He's enjoyed nineteen years of good fortune and nineteen years of living hell. Now, it's his turn to atone with his death!"

The astrologer shuddered at the sight of the terrifying woman, her resentment palpable. He slowly turned his gaze to his hands, and beneath his grotesque, dog-claw-like white gloves, he seemed to vaguely see the broken shadow of a departed loved one.

December 21

Birthday flower: Winter Heath

Flower language: Suspicion

This flower is dedicated to Saint Demas, one of the twelve apostles. He believed that he could not believe Christ's resurrection unless he saw it with his own eyes. Because of his deep suspicion, its flower language is – suspicion.

Those blessed by this flower tend to be suspicious, but this isn't necessarily a bad thing, as it reflects the spirit of scientific inquiry. However, they should openly trust their lover's sincerity!

Volume Two: Degreased Lycoris Radiata (Part 1)

I love all of you, except for those six pounds of fat. —Epigraph

The soft measuring tape tightened around her waist, inch by inch, forcefully pulling it shut. Cutting off the top and bottom, her waist circumference was 64 centimeters, a little over 1.9 feet—so fat! She slumped down, her face filled with sorrow. Last summer, her waist was loose and comfortable at 1.8 feet, but after just one winter, it had grown by an inch! How terrible!

"I need to lose weight!" A warning bell suddenly rang in her mind. "I need to lose weight!" As she jumped onto the back of her boyfriend's bicycle, the rusty old car screeched as it hit her, a sound that served as a stark reminder.

She had indeed gained weight. Standing under the showerhead, she frantically rubbed her body in the steamy mist, wishing she could rub away the fat clinging to her skin, until her whole body was red, hot, and aching. She sadly realized that her figure was increasingly resembling that of a mature woman—rounded, full, with increasingly softened, defined contours. The cruel and merciless laws of time were precisely at work on every part of her body. The youthful glow unique to her girlhood, her smooth, clear skin, and her slender, lean limbs were slowly slipping away. The more beautiful a woman is, the more she ages, and the more worthy of a tear of sympathy she becomes. Comparing the glorious past and bleak later years of those stunningly beautiful actresses, who could tell that a pair of bright, star-like eyes once shone on their walnut-shell-like, withered faces? The Creator's cruel hand in destroying beauty can only be described as "terrifying." On the contrary, those women with ordinary appearances, the older they get, the more they are honed by the passage of time, developing a unique charm that was hard to match in their youth. Thinking of this, she smiled self-deprecatingly. In terms of appearance alone, she had never been beautiful, and she didn't expect to be more beautiful in the future. Although she didn't cause a sensation like a Jurassic dinosaur, nor did she move onlookers to tears or sadden them, she was just an ordinary woman on the street, easily lost among the many elegantly dressed women.

However, fate wasn't entirely unkind to her. Though she possessed a plain, unremarkable face, she was paired with an alluring, fiery figure—curvy, with a slender waist and long legs—comparable to lingerie models in fashion magazines. Her smooth, wheat-colored skin added to her exotic charm. Whenever she undressed for bed at night, the other girls in the dormitory would gather around, staring at her with wide eyes and heavy breathing, not blinking an eye. In their words, "Oh no, your husband is definitely going to bleed to death!" At that moment, she would always stick out her tongue and smile, quickly burrowing under the covers to hide her flushed face.

She wished Shi Xiu could see this scene too.

Shi Xiu was her classmate at university, a well-known figure on the K University campus, a charming and talented young man. He was tall, with a captivating smile, elegant demeanor, loyal, and capable. He balanced his studies with multiple ministerial positions in the student union; a key defender on the university's football team, a long-distance running champion, and a skilled writer with a deep understanding of martial arts and fantasy novels—in short, in her eyes, he was practically a perfect man. From the very first class meeting in their freshman year, she was poisoned by the name "Shi Xiu," and over the next four years, she sank deeper and deeper, beyond cure. In their senior year, Shi Xiu, due to his outstanding grades, directly obtained a spot for a combined master's and doctoral program without examination, continuing his studies at K University; and for his sake, she naturally stayed behind, studying diligently for the postgraduate entrance exam. Until the day after the postgraduate entrance exam, on a snowy morning, she unexpectedly encountered him on a frosty road, dragging his luggage. He nodded at her and smiled slightly:

Good morning.

This was only the second time in his four years of university that he had formally spoken to her. The first time was during a "Heart to Heart" themed class meeting. He told her his name and even extended his hand to her, but she didn't react at all, leaving him speechless for quite some time. Little did he know, because of his sudden gesture, she was so excited that her whole body stiffened, and her tongue was practically wrapped in her mouth, making it impossible for her to utter a word!

This time was no different. She nodded expressionlessly in response, remaining stiff-handed until she reached the examination room. Even as the exam bell rang and the invigilator laid out the advanced mathematics exam paper in front of her, her hands were still trembling nervously. Her mind was filled with the scene from just now, a chaotic mess like a pot of boiling porridge, replaying, filling the screen, freezing, frame by frame.

He nodded. He smiled. His lips parted slightly. "Good morning."

Shi Xiu probably never dreamed that a simple, ordinary greeting would almost cause her to miss out on her dream school—no, her dream prince. Sure enough, she did terribly in advanced mathematics, barely passing the national minimum score. Fortunately, she performed well in the first two subjects—politics and foreign language—and the last subject, her major, was her strong suit. Therefore, her final score secured her a master's degree admission letter, allowing her to sit in the same classroom as Shi Xiu once again.

Girls her age had all already found their boyfriends, but she, a graduate student, had never been in a relationship. Her enthusiastic roommates introduced her to one male senior after another; at this level of education, only male master's and doctoral students seemed suitable. She couldn't bear to refuse their good intentions, so she spun around like a top, attending one "beautiful encounter" or "blind date" after another, politely declining each one after a brief conversation. Her roommates criticized her for being too picky, warning her to be "too good for some and not good enough for others," but she always just smiled calmly and went her own way.

Volume Two: Degreased Lycoris Radiata (Part Two)

The phoenix roosts in silence for three years, but when it does sing, it amazes the world.

Shi Xiu's combined master's and doctoral studies were far from happy. His beautiful girlfriend was also recommended to Peking University for further studies, also a five-year combined master's and doctoral program. The thought of a long-distance relationship for the next five years made her shudder. Even the sweetest water from afar can't quench immediate thirst, and sure enough, not long after, his girlfriend found someone else and dumped him. Deeply in love with his girlfriend, Shi Xiu was devastated and from then on, he stopped caring about his personal life and devoted himself entirely to scientific research.

On the eve of Halloween, when the autumn air was crisp and clear, K University's activity center, as in previous years, hosted a costume party. Participants abandoned their usual student attire, donning masks or outlandish costumes, each vying to express a completely different, authentic version of themselves. Shi Xiu was also surrounded by his fellow students at the activity center. From afar, he could hear the poignant strains of a rumba, its melody striking a chord deep within his heart.