Chapter 8: All Phenomena Arise from Causes

This Buddha statue isn’t one to be worshipped lightly…

The first round of auditions arrived as scheduled. When Xie Qingman reached the venue, she spotted many familiar faces.

Given the substantial investment in this production, the crew of Ascend the Throne could almost rival that of a film:

The director had long been rooted in serious dramas—while not guaranteed to deliver high ratings, his works always earned critical acclaim. The cinematographer was the only Chinese laureate of the Golden Statue Award. Most notably, the screenwriter Wang Jian had an almost flawless track record—his scripts, rich with humor, thrilling moments, and patriotic sentiment, outshone everything else in the industry. Add to that the fact that period dramas often became breakout hits, and the audition waiting area was nearly packed.

From seasoned veterans to recent screen favorites, and even complete newcomers…

The competition for this series was undeniably fierce.

Audition segments and order were determined by draw. Xie Qingman’s number was relatively early, yet the process dragged on late into the day.

By the time the auditions wrapped up, it was already 1 p.m.

Xie Qingman found a nearby restaurant.

With gray tiles, white walls, carved wooden doors, and lanterns inscribed with the shop’s name, the nostalgic decor resembled an ancient inn.

She chose a quiet spot and sent her location to Xiang Baozhu.

Xiang Baozhu had plenty of free time.

She had been invited to Beijing for a high jewelry gala and was shopping alone today—bored out of her mind and in desperate need of company.

Finally, you’re done, Ivy. It’s about time.

Xiang Baozhu pushed open the wooden door, striding in energetically in her Jimmy Choo black-and-gold orchid heels, casually tossing her crystal-gray matte crocodile bag aside.

Dressed in trendy labels, her face mostly hidden behind sunglasses, the diamonds on her fingers glittered brilliantly—her flamboyance was almost blinding.

You have no idea how rough my night was yesterday.

Last evening was the Cartier high jewelry new collection launch. The banquet featured a live orchestra, their melodies drifting gracefully through the air.

The red carpet was flanked by Juliet Roses and candles, their flames flickering under a storm of camera flashes. Amid the perfumed elegance and glamour, the scene was one of lavish extravagance and tranquility.

It would have been even more tranquil—if the hem of her newly acquired haute couture gown hadn’t been singed by a candle.

That wedding-style dress was the finale piece at Fashion Week. It took ages to make, and I ruined it in less than half an hour. Totally ruined my mood.

Xiang Baozhu’s displeasure was written all over her face. What’s worse, if it weren’t for someone, my dress would never have gotten burned!

Who is this ‘someone’? Xie Qingman keenly picked up on the keyword.

That’s not the point. The point is, it wasn’t an accident—it was sabotage. Xiang Baozhu emphasized expressionlessly, then gritted her teeth and cursed, It’s all that outsider’s fault.

As much as I sympathize with your plight, I feel obliged to point out—we’re in Beijing now.

Xie Qingman couldn’t help but laugh. He might not be a local, but you’re definitely the ‘outsider’ here.

Whose side are you on? Xiang Baozhu fumed.

Just stating facts.

It was only a joke, and neither took it seriously.

Yet the atmosphere grew tense, because Xiang Baozhu’s hesitant, halting manner was clearly unusual.

What is it?

Xiang Baozhu visibly hesitated for a few seconds before mustering her courage. It’s really not a big deal, just… there’s something I wanted to ask you…

Her gaze shifted uncertainly, her voice slightly muffled. Ivy, have you been really short on money lately?

As if afraid Xie Qingman might misunderstand, she hurriedly added an explanation.

My point is, if you need anything, you can tell me. Anyway, my dad has money, and he can’t just ignore me.

The Huo Family’s recent turmoil had already sparked plenty of gossip. Lately, Xie Qingman’s frequent transfers of assets under her name—from villas and sports cars to yachts, funds, and shares—had caused the undercurrents of discussion to surge wildly.

And Jun Gang Capital wasn’t peaceful either.

The second wife had schemed to drive out Xie Qingman and suppress the old influence of the eldest son from the first wife. Just when it seemed she was on the verge of taking control of the Huo Family, before she could even solidify her position, another adversary emerged.

Rumored to be Huo Hongcheng’s illegitimate child, or perhaps his son with his first love Li Zhi before marriage, this newcomer also wanted a share of the pie. No one knew what methods he used to win over the old lady and the third son of the Huo Family, turning them against the others and initiating a lawsuit to revoke the family trust. The outside world mocked, The elite circles are truly chaotic, a prime-time drama drenched in dog blood.

The Huo Family was indeed too messy.

Hong Kong media didn’t even need to embellish the story: Xie Qingman’s father, Huo Hongcheng, had three women in the public eye alone—his first love Li Zhi, her mother Xie Baihui, and the second wife Zhou Yu.

Back when the Huo Family was struggling in Hong Kong, besieged by capital, media rumors claimed that her mother Xie Baihui, for the sake of her father, had stood against the Xie Family and insisted on marrying beneath her status. Their love had been passionate and grand, and after marriage, they had a son and a daughter.

The son took the mother’s surname, while she took her father’s surname, originally named Huo Yin.

Later, as the Huo Family rose to wealth and prominence, their marriage became riddled with scars.

Her mother was indeed shrewd and powerful during her lifetime, holding absolute authority and suppressing any dissent within the Huo Family. Unfortunately, she passed away prematurely. After her death, her father’s scandals kept surfacing: openly, the second wife had risen through social gatherings, which was disgraceful enough, and behind the scenes, who knew how many half-siblings had been added to her family. Looking back, the so-called deep affection of the past seemed laughable.

In truth, the rumors about her mother being love-struck weren’t entirely accurate—it involved power struggles within the Xie Family, and the story was long and complicated. But as for her father—

When they met abroad, Huo Hongcheng had just broken up with his first love Li Zhi and immediately launched a fierce pursuit of Xie Baihui. How much of it was genuine feeling and how much was calculated interest was self-evident.

The internal strife had reached a stalemate, which was expected.

But a starved camel is still bigger than a horse, so logically, Xie Qingman shouldn’t have fallen into such dire straits.

After all, the Huo Family’s assets were substantial. Even if most of the businesses were controlled by the second wife and her two uncles, the savings under her name were still considerable—hardly necessitating liquidation for cash.

It seemed she urgently needed a large sum of money.

Xiang Baozhu held Xie Qingman’s hand and earnestly promised, Don’t worry, Ivy, I won’t abandon you either…

I know.

Xie Qingman wanted to laugh at her solemnity, but a touch of warmth slowly welled up in her heart.

I do need a sum of money, but it’s a long story. I don’t need help right now—I’ll explain it to you later.

She needed an external force.

At this point, the situation in the Huo Family was too difficult to control.

To decisively settle the matter and eliminate future troubles, mere wealth wasn’t enough to serve as the east wind she needed.

Regardless, thank you for your kindness. Xie Qingman paused. If I need your help in the future, Bella, I won’t stand on ceremony.

You’re being quite polite right now, Xiang Baozhu sniffed lightly.

Xie Qingman chuckled wryly.

She swirled the teacup in her hand, watching the pale steam rise like ethereal smoke, her gaze softening. The usual aloofness and chill in her demeanor seemed to dissipate slightly.

—

After navigating the winding alleys, the nearby temple’s bell echoed faintly, accompanied by the solemn and dignified sound of Buddhist chants.

It was early winter, coinciding with Tanzhe Temple’s Ten Thousand Buddhas Dharma Assembly.

Monks from temples across various countries had gathered to deliver sermons in the Mahavira Hall. In a few days, the temple would close to the public, and debates on Buddhist doctrines would take place on the back hill, fostering scholarly exchange. Inside the temple, Buddhist hymns and chants resonated continuously, while outside, streams of visitors from near and far filed in through the temple gates.

The crowd surged like tides.

Come, let’s go offer incense, Xiang Baozhu tugged at Xie Qingman’s sleeve, unusually enthusiastic. I’ll pray for you to land the female lead role.

The audition’s already over. Isn’t this like clasping Buddha’s feet in a crisis?

The results aren’t out yet, are they? Fine, the truth is, I mainly want you to come with me, Xiang Baozhu sighed dramatically. I’ve been so unlucky lately—I need to seek some good fortune.

Xie Qingman smiled faintly.

She glanced down and remarked, Then you should change your shoes first. With those heels, you won’t even make it to the ticket booth.

The winter air was crisp and austere, with undulating shades of gray and green stretching across the mountains. Tanzhe Temple stood before Baozhu Peak, built into the slope and encircled by red walls. From a distance, one could glimpse the golden halls and lofty pavilions arranged in a majestic, towering layout. Ancient trees reached for the sky, complementing the forest of stupas.

A millennium-old monastery naturally exuded grandeur.

About a dozen meters from the temple entrance stood a small fortune-telling stall. On a yellow velvet cloth embroidered with floral patterns lay a divination cylinder.

What Xiang Baozhu referred to as seeking good fortune was, in fact, drawing lots.

Without even stepping into the temple grounds, she had already closed her eyes, murmured prayers, and devoutly shaken out five lots—

Whenever the fortune didn’t suit her liking, she pretended not to see it. Under the stall owner’s hesitant gaze, she paid again and continued drawing until she finally obtained a top-tier fortune.

Is this even reliable? Xie Qingman looked at her with mixed feelings. Since when is fortune-telling negotiable, with a satisfaction guarantee?

I don’t care—I paid for it, so I deserve a satisfactory result, Xiang Baozhu retorted matter-of-factly, then handed the cylinder to Xie Qingman. Aren’t you going to try?

I’ll pass, Xie Qingman replied with clear-eyed resolve. If the fortune isn’t favorable, it’ll only bring unnecessary worry.

She had never liked leaving things to fate.

Hearing this, Xiang Baozhu didn’t insist and moved to return the cylinder. But her grip slipped, and it tipped over the edge of the wooden table.

Hey— Xie Qingman swiftly reached out to catch it.

Though the cylinder was steadied, the bamboo slips inside clattered, and one slipped out. On its front, vermilion characters were inscribed:

【Fifth Lot, Medium Fortune: Liu Chen Meets the Immortal】①

Catching sight of the text, Xie Qingman sighed inwardly—it seemed fate had intervened despite her reluctance. She bent down to pick it up, her slender fingers turning it over to read the smaller characters on the back.

The verse read:

【Seeking a spring in a field with but an awl—

Striving hard yields the greatest difficulty.

Unexpectedly, you meet a kindred spirit;

Together, you ascend the azure sky.】①

This hexagram symbolizes digging for water with an awl, reflecting your current fortune.①

The stall owner glanced at the slip, his gaze lingering on Xie Qingman for a long moment before he smiled and leisurely delivered his interpretation.

Desires and worries may find resolution in the west.

Better to stay still than act rashly—plans can be made right where you stand.

A chance encounter with a kindred soul marks the moment you gain a noble supporter, enabling you to soar ten thousand miles.①

Xie Qingman’s fingers stilled slightly.

It was nothing more than a baseless matter, so why should she trouble herself to verify an absurd divination slip and bring displeasure upon herself?

At least there was some novelty in the present moment.

Following the little fox as it darted and paused, Xie Qingman passed a steep flight of stairs and arrived at the cliff beneath the western side of the East Guanyin Hall.

She retraced her steps along the way.

The little fox scurried into the grass and soon vanished without a trace.

Xie Qingman surveyed her surroundings.

Before her lay the courtyard she hadn’t entered earlier, with two artificially carved cave openings at the far end.

The entrance was low, requiring one to stoop to enter. The interior was narrow, enshrining three Bodhisattva statues, with both sides adorned with red silk ribbons of wishes and brocade banners of gratitude—

This place actually housed a Guanyin Cave.

The cave was filled with the scent of incense, serene and tranquil, soothing her restless heart.

Xie Qingman glanced briefly around her.

Involuntarily, she walked toward the central Bodhisattva statue, hoping to find an explanation of its origins.

Just as she stood before the prayer mat, a man’s voice unexpectedly came from behind:

This statue isn’t one to be worshipped casually.

Xie Qingman’s brow twitched slightly.

A sudden breeze, seemingly from nowhere in the Guanyin Cave, swept through the curling incense smoke, lifting a strand of her soft hair. It floated upward before settling back onto her shoulder. She turned around, and in the beam of light, countless dust particles drifted like undisguised desires.

Ye Yansheng stood behind her at some unnoticed moment.

The man wore a black trench coat, his features sharp and defined, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His demeanor was aloof and detached, like a pine tree unyielding to snow.

Yet the scar at the end of his eyebrow added a touch of severity and wildness, intensifying the aggressive edge to his noble countenance.

The Guanyin Hall is at the northernmost end of the western route. If you go out from here and climb to the highest point, you’ll see the golden horizontal plaque inscribed with ‘Lotus Realm Compassionate Voyage’—that’s the place for praying for career success and safety.

He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed on the Bodhisattva statue, his voice deep and measured. These three white marble statues are the Child-Granting, Child-Protecting, and Child-Seeking Guanyins.

Ah? Xie Qingman’s voice was soft.

The fleeting confusion in her eyes at that moment was genuine; she hadn’t processed his words, nor had she fully taken them in.

This is the Child-Seeking Cave, Ye Yansheng glanced at her, raising an eyebrow slightly. You come to pray to the gods and Buddhas without even doing your homework?

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