Chapter 28: The Emperor’s Command

I quickly shook my head with a modest smile.
“It was just luck. I happened to guess correctly. That business about a forthright prophecy is too much praise.”
Yan Tongshou lifted his teacup, his face warm, even his tone gentler than before.
“I’m a few years your senior—calling you Yan Hui, I hope you don’t mind.”
“Whatever is most comfortable for you,” I replied, neither humble nor arrogant.
“I was rather rude just now. You truly hide your talents well. I, Yan Six-Fingers, have spent decades in the arts of fate and physiognomy, and if anyone deserves to be called a master, it's you. This cup of tea is my apology, a gesture of regret for my poor judgment.”
I hurriedly picked up my own cup with a conciliatory smile.
“You are my elder; it would be improper for you to serve me tea. Please allow me to apologize instead.”
“Good, good.” Yan Tongshou's face broke into a broad approving smile. “Victorious but not arrogant, unfailingly polite—quite rare. You are no ordinary young man.”
Yue Qianling, amazed by how I’d managed to win over the intimidating Yan Tongshou and the crowd at the tea stall with just a few words, whispered in my ear,
“You're usually so quiet, but I never imagined you could talk your way through anything. I’m impressed.”
Yan Tongshou nodded thoughtfully, though there was still doubt in his eyes. After a long hesitation, he asked,
“I’ve studied destiny and fate for decades; you’re only twenty years old. How is it that you already understand so much? Is there a master in your family?”
“You flatter me. I can hardly claim to understand. In front of you, it’s like showing off my meager skills at the gates of a master. I’ve read some books on the subject, but only enough to grasp the basics. You are the true expert. If you hadn’t retired, I would never dare to speak so boldly.” I smiled lightly and, following the conversation, refilled Yan Tongshou’s cup.
“Those books can only teach you so much. I don’t believe you learned all that from reading. You conceal your talents well—very well. I was blind today. If you’re only a beginner, what have I been for decades? A charlatan?” Yan Tongshou let out a self-deprecating laugh, but his laughter stopped abruptly. His face grew tense and excited, his mouth gaping slightly.
I realized Yan Tongshou had seized my hand, his touch moving up my arm towards my head.
His expression grew stranger, his movements faster and more forceful, yet purposeful, his fingers pressing only on my bones. Despite his age—over seventy—his grip was as strong as any young man’s, and I felt as if my body might fall apart under the pressure.
I instinctively tried to pull back, but his hands were like iron clamps, holding me fast.
“Don’t move. Extraordinary. Truly extraordinary!” he muttered as he examined me.
Puzzled, I watched Yan Tongshou as he focused intently, exchanging a worried glance with Yue Qianling. Neither of us dared to speak.
Finally, his hand reached my forehead. His chest heaved with excitement, his breath coming faster, and his eyes grew dazed. His thin lips trembled as he took a deep breath and slowly sat back down.

“Fortunately, I retired decades ago, or I’d lose three years of my life today because of you.”
Everyone was astonished by Yan Tongshou’s words. Yue Qianling looked up, curiosity shining in her eyes.
“What do you mean by that?”
“You have good taste, young lady.” Yan Tongshou gave Yue Qianling a meaningful smile. “This young man is exceptional. I just tested him—calm in danger, steady in crisis, and above all, loyal and righteous. You don’t have a boyfriend yet, do you? Choose him—listen to my advice. If you’re with him, you’ll never have to worry again.”
Yue Qianling was stunned, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She glared at me and retorted,
“Who… who would want him as a boyfriend? Always acting mysterious. How did this conversation turn to me?”
“Do you know what I was doing just now?” Yan Tongshou asked me with a sly smile.
“You were reading my bones,” I answered steadily.
“Exactly! Fate from the bones! First fate, then luck, then feng shui, then virtue, then learning. My reputation comes from this very skill. As the old saying goes, ‘Those cursed by fate die in vain.’ Throughout history, how many people lived mediocre lives because they didn’t understand their fate? And how many, knowing their fate, refused to change and brought disaster upon themselves—even death!”
“Another fortune-telling story. Can’t you talk about something scientific? Fate is too mysterious. I believe your destiny is in your own hands. The only one who can change fate is yourself,” Yue Qianling said, glancing at me indifferently.
“Han Xin, one of the Three Heroes of the Han, is the prime example of someone who knew his fate but did not act on it. He was a master strategist, but didn’t know when to protect himself. His talents provoked jealousy, his pride made him unwanted, and he was executed by Empress Lü in Weiyang Palace. At his execution, he remembered Kuai Tong’s warning and regretted not listening too late. If he had, he would not have died at the hands of a woman and might instead have ruled the world. That is the price of knowing one’s fate but refusing to act,” Yan Tongshou explained passionately.
“Han Xin’s achievements threatened his sovereign, and he didn’t know when to retire. They feared he’d rebel, so he was killed. How can you call that fate?” Yue Qianling muttered.
“Then there are those who don’t know their fate—lost in confusion, dying in obscurity. Some who claim not to believe, still curse the heavens on their deathbed. They never reflect whether their actions throughout life followed the will of heaven. They don’t understand that the will of heaven is fate itself; to struggle against it is to risk death. But too few in this world understand, and fewer still who know but won’t repent. It’s truly tragic,” Yan Tongshou said, gazing at me with a peculiar look.
“Heh, you’re not talking about me, are you?” I asked awkwardly.
“You? Ha! I wouldn’t dare say a word about you, not even with ten times the courage,” Yan Tongshou replied, wiping sweat from his brow, still unsettled. “Just now, I was reading your fate from your bones—a skill handed down from my ancestors.”
“So, what fate do you see for me?”
“Read your fate? Who could dare? Your fate is decreed by heaven! Not only can I not define it, but even touching your bones would cost me three years of life! Luckily, I retired, or those three years would have ended in your hands.”
I remembered Qin Yishou and Gu Anqi had both said something similar before, and I couldn’t help but smile in curiosity.
Yue Qianling, though skeptical, couldn’t resist asking, given how matter-of-fact Yan Tongshou seemed.
“Why can’t you read his fate?”
“Don’t move. Let me check the back of your head again.”

I leaned forward, and Yan Tongshou, eyes closed and fingers moving, muttered calculations under his breath. When he opened his eyes, his face glowed with excitement and tension.
“I’ve been reading people’s fates from their bones for decades. I can’t remember how many I’ve read, but I’ve never encountered anyone like you. My life is complete for this moment.”
“His… bones are that extraordinary?” Yue Qianling, always impatient, pressed on.
“More than extraordinary—unique. I calculated: the clash of midnight and noon represents the official star meeting the hurting officer, water as the hurting officer symbolizes the people, and a strong midnight means numerous subjects. The clash indicates the emperor of this era is supreme, and becoming emperor is destiny.” Yan Tongshou looked me over again, delighted. “And your bone structure is even more remarkable—sun, moon, dragon, and tiger. Look at Yan Hui’s forehead, from halfway above the brows to the crown, there are two jade-like columns—the sun and moon horns. Such a structure marks one destined to found a dynasty.”
“Him? Destined to be an emperor?” Yue Qianling frowned, studying me in disbelief.
“Great literary and celestial signs, the dragon and tiger, the phoenix, all are present. Yan Hui’s fate is that of a rare emperor—one in ten thousand. Born in ancient times, he would have ruled the world,” Yan Tongshou said, utterly serious.
Yue Qianling was dumbfounded, shaking her head with a wry smile and rolling her eyes at me.
“If you’re really an emperor, then the world has lost all sense.”
“Yan Hui, let me offer you some advice. Whether you heed it is up to you. Your fate is too powerful—if I say too much, I’ll bring heaven’s wrath upon myself.” Yan Tongshou’s excitement faded, his tone calm.
“Please, go ahead.”
“Your fate is decreed by heaven, unchangeable and unchallengeable. But your fortune is yours to shape. Though your bones are auspicious, your patellae are sharp and your nasal bones high—you’ll face hardships and dangers. Be cautious in all things, and beware of those who would harm you in secret.”
Although I knew much about fate, I had never read my own face. This was the first time anyone had read my physiognomy. The last time Gu Anqi tried, she stopped halfway. Now, hearing Yan Tongshou’s words, I realized she’d been afraid to speak because of my emperor’s fate.
Yet Yan Tongshou’s final words hinted at something deeper, though I didn’t fully understand. I wanted to ask more, but he left it at that.
I didn’t press the matter. I raised my teacup, about to thank Yan Tongshou, when I noticed his meaningful gaze at my hand.
“Yan Hui, how did you lose part of your finger?”
“Oh, I was disobedient at home, and my father cut it off,” I replied quietly.
Yan Tongshou stroked his chin thoughtfully, then slowly smiled.
“There’s always someone greater. That cut was well made. Though your future will be fraught with peril, because of that cut, you’ll survive disaster and find peace. The one who made that cut is the true master!”