A. The Family's Summons and Memories
Scene: Janet's Apartment
The snowy night was quiet, and the neon lights outside her window shimmered softly against the glass. Janet stood by the window, reading a message from the family butler:
"The matriarch hopes you will personally handle the family matters in New Zealand. Some elders are concerned that the sigil incident may endanger the family's hidden powers."
The message was accompanied by a photograph of the family estate: a sprawling manor surrounded by dense forests and open fields where sheep and cattle roamed. The pristine white manor stood tall and majestic, with ornately carved window sills that reflected its timeless grandeur.
Janet's gaze softened as memories of her childhood came rushing back.
Flashback:
As a child, the estate had been her paradise. Her grandmother, a skilled practitioner of Chinese medicine and Zhuyou healing arts, often guided her in harvesting herbs in the garden, teaching her how to identify medicinal plants and prepare ointments. Her grandfather, deeply immersed in Taoist and Buddhist esoteric practices, had transformed the eastern wing of the manor into a sanctuary for study. Its walls were adorned with Taoist talismans and Buddhist thangkas, creating an atmosphere of serene spirituality.
One vivid memory stood out: a sick calf in the estate's barn.
Janet, then just under ten, was encouraged by her grandmother to use Zhuyou techniques to treat the animal. Nervous but determined, she followed her grandmother's guidance, placing her hands on the calf's belly and reciting a chant while gently applying a herbal poultice. The calf eventually recovered, and for the first time, Janet felt the profound wonder of spiritual healing. She had no idea then that these early lessons would lay the foundation for her future.
Back to the present:
Janet ran her finger lightly across her phone screen, her lips curving into a faint, wistful smile. "I wonder if New Zealand's winds are still as pure as they used to be," she murmured.
Finally, she dialed the butler's number, her voice calm yet resolute: "Tell Grandmother I will return, but only for three days."
B. Mike's Discovery
Scene: Mike's Family Library
The Mike family library in Manhattan was a Gothic-style building, its spires and stained-glass windows evoking a sense of medieval reverence. Located on the family estate, it was surrounded by swaying trees and bathed in the haunting beauty of the night. Pushing open the intricately carved wooden doors, Mike was greeted by the familiar scent of aged paper and ink.
Standing at the entrance, Mike surveyed the towering shelves and the long table at the center of the room. He had never been fond of this place—its weighty connection to family traditions felt stifling. But his mother's reminder about the library potentially holding valuable clues drove him to enter.
On one wall hung a religious painting that caught his attention: "The Last Judgment." Jesus stood at the center, radiant with divine light, as good and evil were starkly divided. Below the frame was a Latin inscription: "Omnia vincit fides" (Faith conquers all). Though Mike had passed by the painting countless times, it seemed particularly striking now.
"Perhaps this library would be better as a Christian chapel," he mused silently.
The thought wasn't new. For years, Mike had toyed with the idea of converting the family library into a chapel, a symbol of his rejection of the family's academic traditions. To him, faith represented clarity and purpose, while the library's shelves of dense, ancient tomes felt more like shackles than wisdom.
"This place needs a rebirth." His voice was barely audible as he climbed the wooden staircase to the top floor, where the family kept its rarest manuscripts. Amid the dust-laden bookshelves, one book stood out: its cover bore the same mysterious sigil as the mark on his chest.
Flipping through the pages, Mike discovered a trove of cryptic texts about an ancient power called the "Mark of Fate." The writings, though fragmented, hinted at the mark's dangerous potential:
"The awakening of the sigil is the intersection of balance and chaos. The bearer may control destiny—or become its greatest catastrophe."
The manuscript referenced spiritual families who had studied the mark, but its account abruptly ended, leaving its origins shrouded in mystery.
Puzzled, Mike closed the book and headed to his father's study, seeking answers.
Scene: Confrontation with Father
Mike's father was seated in his study, engrossed in a book, when Mike entered and placed the manuscript on the desk.
"Father, I need to know about this," Mike said bluntly.
His father's expression darkened as he recognized the book. After a brief pause, he said, "This manuscript is part of the family's past. There are things you're better off not knowing."
"But it concerns me," Mike insisted, pointing to the sigil on his chest. "You can't ignore the fact that it matches what's in this book."
His father glanced at him, conflicted. After a moment's hesitation, he said, "Some secrets aren't meant to be uncovered."
"Why not?" Mike's voice grew sharper. "You want me to stay in the dark until this power consumes me?"
"Destiny isn't something you can manipulate." His father's tone was stern. "Our family has studied these forces for generations, but we've never sought to control them. You shouldn't be the first."
"So you'd rather bury your head in these books and pretend nothing's happening?" Mike pressed on.
His father rose, his gaze firm. "You still don't understand. Knowledge isn't always a light—it can be a fire that burns everything. Remember my words: if you pursue this, the consequences are yours alone."
As his father walked away, Mike felt the sigil on his chest grow warm, as if responding to their tense exchange. His eyes drifted back to the library, finally landing on the "Last Judgment" painting.
"Faith conquers all?" he muttered under his breath. "Perhaps destiny has its own rules."
D. A Fateful Encounter
Scene: Cultural Salon
That evening, Mike's assistant successfully delivered an invitation to Janet for an exclusive cultural salon titled "Fate and Art." The event promised a gathering of prominent intellectuals and art connoisseurs. Janet hesitated but felt the sigil's faint warmth, compelling her to attend.
The salon was hosted in a dazzling glass-domed hall in Manhattan. Under its opulent lighting, guests sipped champagne and mingled. Janet, dressed in an elegant black gown, moved through the crowd, her sharp gaze scanning the room. It didn't take long for her to spot Mike.
Clad in a perfectly tailored navy suit, Mike stood amidst a group of investors, holding a glass of whiskey. Their eyes met across the room, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze.
Mike raised his glass with a slight smile. "It seems our fates keep crossing."
Janet approached him, her voice cool: "You must have gone to great lengths for this meeting."
"Perhaps," Mike replied with a hint of amusement. "I need answers to some questions."
"Such as?" Janet asked, raising an eyebrow.
Mike glanced at his chest. "This—what is it? And why do you seem to know more than you're letting on?"
Janet's eyes narrowed slightly before she responded, "You really want to know? Are you prepared for the price?"
Before the conversation could go further, a commotion erupted outside the salon. Janet felt a sudden surge of spiritual energy—an ominous presence approaching.
E. Chapter Cliffhanger: Ambush and Resistance
The salon's atmosphere turned tense. Janet leaned toward Mike and whispered, "They're here."
"Who?" Mike asked, confused.
"Stay close and don't move," Janet commanded. She retrieved a jade pendant from her waist, muttering a soft incantation. A faint golden glow enveloped both of them.
The doors burst open as shadowy figures stormed in—spiritual hunters targeting Janet. Their leader's voice rang out coldly: "The sigil belongs to us. You have no escape."
Janet smirked, her eyes sharp. "Escape? You've underestimated me."
With a flick of her fingers across the jade pendant, a radiant glyph illuminated the hall, casting a protective barrier over the guests and signaling the start of a fierce confrontation.