"Why bother calling the police? It's not like your car was stolen. The police won't care. Just consider yourself unlucky, Ajie!" Wu Yuqi said as she patted Xia Yunjie on the shoulder, her expression one of mock sympathy.
Wu Yuqi's comment unwittingly elevated Zhang Xiaojun's status since he drove a car. Hearing her words, Zhang Xiaojun feigned seriousness and nodded. "That's true. Reporting it would be pointless; it's just a bicycle and not worth much. Anyway, Ajie, don't be too upset. When the old goes, the new comes."
Initially, Xia Yunjie didn't mind Zhang Xiaojun pursuing Cheng Ping; it was his right. However, Zhang Xiaojun's constant teasing finally stirred a flicker of anger in Xia Yunjie. Maintaining a calm demeanor, he replied, "It's okay. Maybe someone urgently needed a bicycle to get around and just borrowed it. I'm sure it'll be returned by tomorrow."
"Haha! Ajie, you're such an optimist!" Wu Yuqi and the others laughed, thinking Xia Yunjie was merely consoling himself. Zhang Xiaojun joined in the laughter, adding, "That could be true. But Ajie, you should consider taking the bus to work from now on. Or maybe invest in more locks. Leaving your bike outside at night isn't safe. Tell you what, seeing how unlucky you've been tonight, why don't I give you a ride?"
"Thanks, Brother Jun, but I once rode in a friend's car, and halfway through, the tire blew out, nearly causing an accident. It was a Japanese car, just like yours. Since then, I've never been fond of Japanese cars," Xia Yunjie said, lightly tapping the tire of Zhang Xiaojun's Toyota with his foot as he spoke.
Xia Yunjie's demeanor was always modest and reserved, carrying the shyness typical of fresh graduates. As such, Wu Yuqi and the others didn't pick up on the sarcasm in his words, assuming he was genuinely recounting an incident. They all rolled their eyes at him, laughing, "Do you think all Japanese car tires are made of tofu? It's rare enough to encounter that once, let alone repeatedly!"
"Still, you never know. I can't help but feel uneasy about Japanese cars," Xia Yunjie replied earnestly.
Seeing his serious expression, Wu Yuqi and the others couldn't help but roll their eyes again, thinking he resembled a timid man scarred by a past experience. Meanwhile, Zhang Xiaojun's face darkened. In a mocking tone, he sneered, "Unsafe? Do you even know how much this car costs? You'd have to work for years to afford it."
With that, Zhang Xiaojun stomped on the gas pedal, and the car shot forward. But just as it had gone about ten meters, a loud "bang!" echoed—his Toyota had a sudden tire blowout.
The night fell silent. Wu Yuqi and the others stared in disbelief, glancing between the silver Toyota not far away and Xia Yunjie, their faces filled with astonishment.
Was this guy cursed? He mentioned a blowout one second, and the next, it actually happened!
"See? I told you Japanese cars aren't safe. Good thing this didn't happen on the highway; otherwise, it could've been dangerous!" Xia Yunjie remarked, playing the role of an expert after his discreet move earlier.
The situation was undeniable, and the timing was so impactful that Wu Yuqi and the others instinctively nodded, deciding to avoid Japanese cars in the future.
At that moment, they genuinely felt that Xia Yunjie wasn't just an expert but had an almost "supernatural" aura about him.
As Wu Yuqi and the others nodded, Zhang Xiaojun got out of the car with a dark expression. He walked to the back, kicked the now-flat tire, and fumed inwardly. Why now? Of all times, the tire had to blow out now—this was an outright slap in the face!
Angry as he was, he could only accept his misfortune. At 2:30 a.m., he begrudgingly retrieved the jack from the trunk and started the laborious task of changing the tire.
Watching the lone car parked on the empty street and Zhang Xiaojun, usually suave and confident, struggling with the repair, Cheng Ping couldn't help but tap Xia Yunjie on the head, scolding him playfully, "You jinx!"
The others glared at Xia Yunjie, also blaming his "jinx" for the blown tire.
"This has nothing to do with me. I was just stating the facts. Who knew his car would be so unreliable?" Xia Yunjie shrugged innocently and yawned. "It's late; I need to get home and sleep."
His words echoed clearly in the quiet night, grating on Zhang Xiaojun, who was stuck changing the tire.
With his bike stolen, Xia Yunjie had no choice but to take two bus transfers to return to Deya Community.
Back in his room, after washing up and showering, it was nearly 4 a.m. Knowing it was almost the hour of Mao (5–7 a.m.), Xia Yunjie decided not to sleep. With his current cultivation, going days without sleep posed no issue.
He sat cross-legged on his bed and pulled out a small, palm-sized, dark, and ancient-looking tortoise shell. The shell was engraved with dense lines forming a yin-yang and bagua pattern. However, the lines were crooked and lacked the neatness seen on the fortune-telling mats of street vendors.
This tortoise shell had been passed down to Xia Yunjie by his master, Wu Ze. According to Wu Ze, the shell was an heirloom of his ancestor Wu Xian, who was said to be the first to use tortoise shells for divination. Later, systems like Zhouyi divination were derived from these ancient shamanic practices. Unfortunately, with the decline of the Wu clan, few people knew the origins of these techniques, and shamanism was often dismissed as superstition or evil.
Holding the shell, Xia Yunjie ran his fingers over its ancient patterns, memories of his late master and his uncanny divination skills flooding his mind.
After a moment, Xia Yunjie set aside his emotions, gazing into the starry night. His eyes gleamed brightly, piercing the darkness as if he could see through the vast sky. At the same time, the tortoise shell in his hands began to glow faintly. The dense lines on its surface flickered between light and shadow, as if whispering secrets of the night.
Using the unique shamanic techniques of the Wu Xian sect, Xia Yunjie channeled his power into the shell to investigate the stolen bicycle, bypassing the need for the traditional fire-roasting method.
Time passed, and suddenly, Xia Yunjie exclaimed softly, "Huh!" He had traced the theft to Guangtou Qiang.
"That guy! Didn't he learn his lesson? Stealing from me again—did I offend him in a past life?" Shaking his head, Xia Yunjie opened a drawer and retrieved a gold chain stained with a faint trace of Guangtou Qiang's blood.
"Good thing I didn't clean this off. Without it, tracking him in this vast city would've been much harder," Xia Yunjie muttered as he placed the chain on the tortoise shell.
He repeated the process, gazing at the sky and infusing the shell with power. The shell glowed again, absorbing the bloodstain from the chain. In moments, the blood was gone, leaving the chain clean.
Satisfied, Xia Yunjie smirked. "Guangtou Qiang, enjoy your freedom while it lasts. I'll come for you at dawn."
He stored the shell and chain, lay down on his bed, and waited for the hour of Mao. When the time came, he sat facing east and began his daily practice of absorbing spiritual energy.
As the morning sun rose, a beam of purple light pierced the horizon, heading straight for Xia Yunjie. This "Purple Energy from the East," a rare manifestation of heavenly energy, entered his forehead, forming a vortex. In that vortex, an ancient, inverted cauldron glowed brightly. Simultaneously, his spiritual center lit up, illuminating his mind like a house suddenly filled with light.