The fat fortune-teller's face paled with fear. He hesitated to speak.
"Sir, speak without worry," Mei said softly, shooting Zhu a look. "We only seek guidance. Please advise us."
"You are reasonable, miss," the fortune-teller said, glancing at the broken branch. "The branch is shattered, and the word was written by a woman's hand. 'Branch' without wood becomes 'support,' and with 'woman,' it forms 'prostitute.'"
"Your journey suggests women falling into ruin, like lambs in a tiger's den, with more danger than safety," he continued. "From your auras, I see a blood calamity and death. This journey is better not taken."
Zhu's face darkened, ready to lash out, but Mei's glance stopped him.
Her heart ached. Going was futile. Even if they avenged their blood debt, death would be the cost.
Why had she bothered asking? She looked at Zhu. Tears glistened in his eyes. He was unwilling to give up.
"Thank you for your wisdom," Mei said, her heart stirring. "What happens after the blood calamity and death?"
The fortune-teller dared not answer lightly. He burned a talisman, and as incense smoke curled, his eyes rolled back.
In a shrill, childlike voice, he chanted, "What becomes of your bodies after? One turns to a dog, one to a fowl. If not begging in gutters, you will lean on brothel railings."
Bang!
Before he finished, Zhu's fist struck his face, and a kick toppled the stall.
Mei hurriedly pulled Zhu away, tossing half a tael of silver to the fortune-teller with apologies.
Even as they fled, his curses echoed behind them. "Damn you, you asked me to speak plainly!"
They rushed to a narrow alley behind the temple. Before Mei could speak, Zhu burst into tears.
"Mother, he said we…"
"Foolish child, why cry like a girl?" Mei said with a bitter smile. "I carried you for ten months. You are clearly a boy with a cock."
"You have fucked your mother's pussy enough," she continued. "To be reborn as humans in the next life? The King of Hell offers no such deals."
"Mother!"
Tears streaming, Zhu threw himself into her arms, kissing her neck.
Mei understood. Facing their final battle, knowing they would die together, Zhu's emotions overwhelmed him.
But was she any different? The fortune-teller's words crushed her last hope.
She needed the warmth of his body to ease her grief.
"Sweet son, do not cry. Mother loves you most," Mei said, smiling through her sorrow. She lifted her scholar's robe, pulling down her trousers and undergarments to her knees.
Her jade fingers parted her glistening pussy lips, revealing the wet entrance. She purred, "Come, my good son. Put your cock inside. Do not be gentle this time."
"Take all your pain and vent it on the cunt that birthed you," she urged. "Let Mother love you fully once more."
"Mother!"
Sobbing, Zhu thrust his cock into her. "Mother, I need you," he gasped, voice raw. "I'm lost in your pussy, taking you like this."
Uncaring if anyone saw, they fucked passionately, their final release. Mei yielded to his thrusts, her back against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist.
Her lower body hung in the air, supported by his hands gripping her plump, snowy ass. He rammed into her fiercely, his cock driving deep.
Each thrust sent shudders through her core. Her pussy clenched around him, slick with her juices, as waves of forbidden pleasure mixed with the dread of their doomed fate.
Joy mingled with tears. Those who commit incest in life are doomed to be reborn as beasts.
But no matter what beast she became, Mei vowed to stay by Zhu's side, loving and protecting him.
The moon shifted west. The banquet at Yuan Fortress reached its peak.
With Weiting's status in both black and white paths, leaders of every major sect came to celebrate. Even the Shaolin, secluded for a century, sent a representative.
Beyond the birthday, they discussed recent martial world events and the stirring of evil sects in the borderlands and Miao territories.
The feast was held in an open courtyard. Weiting's main table hosted the world's greatest masters.
Hongmen had risen under Sun Zhongwu, becoming the top gang in Jiangbei. Yet, among the martial world's ten greatest masters, Hongmen held only four spots.
Many others surpassed the twenty-fifth heaven of power.
If possible, Mei wanted to expose Weiting's crimes to the world before killing him. But that was impossible.
Weiting's martial prowess, combined with his guards and the masters at his table, made assassination nearly suicidal.
The Annihilation Three Forms, despite their fame, did not wield true forty-fifth heaven power. They offered only a fleeting burst of force.
Missing the perfect moment meant wasted sacrifice. The best chance was when Weiting left the table.
Thus, Mei and Zhu, clad in black and masked, crouched in the shadows of a roof's blind spot, waiting.
After three rounds of wine, as the atmosphere grew lively, Weiting slammed the table and stood, his brows furrowed in anger, as if clashing with someone.
To everyone's shock, he strode to the center of the field and declared, "Regarding the honor of my Song family's second sister-in-law and nephew, I, Weiting, take full responsibility."
"Anyone who dares slander them will answer to me," he added.
His words sparked an uproar. Zhu, tense with pent-up energy, nearly exploded with rage.
Seizing the moment, he leaped down, both palms striking at Weiting.
The crowd, stunned by Weiting's passionate speech, was unprepared for the sudden attack. Chaos erupted.
Those with keen senses felt the assailant's power and cried out. "Thirty-fifth heaven power!"
The first Annihilation Form, Soul-Breaking Purgatory, unleashed with thirty-fifth heaven force. A foul wind howled, and a bloody stench filled the air within ten zhang.
Weaker warriors' bodies burst, blood spraying as their souls shattered. Weiting, caught off guard, could not muster his full strength.
He met the strike with a palm, grunted, and suffered internal injuries.
"Protect the commander!" one shouted.
"Stop the assassin!" another yelled.
The change was too swift. Only now did the crowd react. The first strike had killed or wounded dozens of guests.
Yuan Fortress guards and Hongmen disciples rushed to aid. Zhu prepared a second strike.
Mei watched from the shadows, thrilled to see her son overpower the enemy.
For reasons she knew, Weiting could never wield power beyond the fortieth heaven. He could not withstand the third form.
Tonight, victory was certain. She gripped her sword, ready to join Zhu in death once his strength faded.