After just two weeks of intensive prep classes, Li Li realized something was wrong.

  Sure, the exams for foreign universities were simpler—but her English score was a whopping 36. She couldn’t even understand the questions!

  But it was too late to back out now. If she told her dad she didn’t want to go abroad, he wouldn’t hesitate to turn her into a **Soul Banner made from family blood.**

  Just thinking about it gave her chills… though part of her wondered, *How powerful would a banner made from a close relative really be…?*

  Her gaze drifted from the blackboard, lost in dark fantasy.

  The IELTS teacher watched her vacant, pitch-black eyes and felt a shiver down his spine.

  In all his years of teaching, he’d never met a student so eerie. Sitting there motionless, she seemed to radiate a ghostly chill.

  He knew she was daydreaming—but didn’t dare call her out.

  Suddenly, Li Li snapped back to reality. *Eh, better stop imagining. Study, study. If I don’t get into a bachelor’s program, I’m really done for.*

  She forced herself to focus.

  After two brutal months of cramming, she was accepted into a decent-but-not-great overseas university.

  The moment the acceptance email arrived, Li Li thought her sweet summer break could finally begin.

  Instead, her dad kicked her straight to their remote mountain temple for a “summer job.”

  “Job” was an understatement—she did everything.

  From lighting morning incense for the temple founders, to accompanying the elder priests down the mountain to perform rituals for villagers.

  Since the temple was inside a tourist park, Li Li also greeted visitors, sold handmade protection charms and luck talismans, and helped “boost temple revenue.”

  If any tourists ignored the warning signs and ventured deep into the wild forests “for adventure,” she was sent to retrieve them.

  The mountains were full of spirits, many centuries old. Without the protection of the temple founders and the mountain god, Li Li wasn’t sure she could bring those tourists back in one piece.

  After the park closed, she swept the temple, counted incense donations, and worked until late at night.

  She did all this—for a monthly salary of 200 yuan.

  Elder Uncle stroked his goatee, explaining solemnly that she was still a minor. Paying her would be suspiciously close to **child labor.**

  Their temple was fully licensed and lawful—they couldn’t possibly break the rules. The 200 yuan came from his own performance bonus, just a loving elder’s allowance for his junior.

  Li Li almost coughed up blood.

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  "Unpaid labor isn't exploitation if you call it 'training'. Brilliant."

  She worked from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m., seven days a week, for a full month—until her classmates’ own national exams arrived.

  Li Li requested leave early, carefully retrieved a luck talisman she’d placed under the main statue for blessings, and went down the mountain to see Liu Hailin.

  Hailin had heard Li Li was “exiled to the mountains” by her dad. She was moved to tears that Li Li came all the way down to cheer her on.

  “Here.” Li Li dodged Hailin’s snotty tears and handed over the talisman. “I blessed it under the temple founder’s statue.”

  Hailin took it, wiping her eyes. “You’re still so superstitious.”

  “I suffered to make this, you know.”

  Everything in the universe balanced: if someone felt lucky, it meant someone else was having a bad day.

  Such was the way of fate.

  “Okay, okay.” Hailin put it around her neck. “I’ll wear it every second until scores come out!”

  “You don’t have to go that far,” Li Li said. “The paper isn’t waterproof. It’ll dissolve if you shower with it.”

  Hailin: “…” *Now you’re being practical?*

  Still, on exam day, Hailin wore the talisman.

  Maybe it was psychological, but everything went smoothly: perfect weather, all green lights on the drive, a bright, well-ventilated test room, and questions that felt strangely familiar. When she reached multiple-choice, it almost felt like an invisible hand guided her pencil.

  *Could the charm actually work?*

  She touched the red thread under her collar.

  *Liu Hailin! You’re a Communist Youth League member! Don’t let Li Li influence you!*

  Filled with renewed revolutionary spirit, she erased her gut-feeling answer of C and confidently changed it to B.

  (Spoiler: C was correct.)

  After delivering the charm, Li Li returned to the temple. Since she didn’t have her Taoist license yet and couldn’t prove she worked there, she had to buy a single-entry park ticket: 30 yuan. Student discount knocked off 20.

  Another blow to her already struggling finances.

  Back inside, Elder Uncle was lounging on a deck chair in the courtyard, eating chilled watermelon.

  Li Li tried to sneak past, but his ears were sharp.

  “Lili’s back.”

  She had to stop and bow her head. “Elder Uncle, I’m back.”

  “Good, good.” He spat out watermelon seeds like a peashooter. “Then get ready to open the temple gates. Visitors will be here soon.”

  So they didn’t even open while she was gone?

  Li Li was speechless, but resistance was futile. “Yes, Elder Uncle.”

  *Even the tech sweatshops aren’t this ruthless.*

  She worked at the temple until late August, finally turned eighteen, rushed to get her Taoist license, and could now “work legally.”

  She tried to settle her wages with Elder Uncle—but he said since she’d be leaving to study abroad, and wouldn’t be working at the temple, what wages were there to discuss?

  Li Li nearly fainted from frustration, her spiritual focus almost shattered.

  Along the way, Hailin got her scores—she did better than ever, enough for a decent university.

  As for Li Guang, his results were as stable as ever: top scorer in the city, heading to a top university in Beijing.

  He’d wanted to contact Li Li after exams, but like her, after submitting his applications, his mom sent him back to their Miao village deep in the mountains to study “traditional cultivation techniques.”

  Everyone had a bright future ahead.

  On the day Li Li flew out, her mom cried at the airport. Her dad stayed stern-faced, but his eyes were soft.

  He said, “Before you leave, your Elder Uncle performed a divination for you. **Fortune and misfortune are intertwined. Hold to your roots, remember the teachings of our ancestors, and you will turn danger into safety, returning home unharmed.** I don’t expect academic excellence—only that you act with honor, bringing no shame to our ancestors or your role as the 64th-generation heir of this temple.”

  Li Li straightened up, clasped her hands in a formal salute.

  “This junior understands.”