Early that morning, Su Xingyu was awakened by the cawing of a crow.

She blinked groggily, her eyes opening to the faint light filtering through the window. Several crows perched on the old osmanthus tree outside, squawking loudly, “Caw, caw, caw!”

She stared at the birds for three seconds, then sat bolt upright.

Something was wrong.

She sprang out of bed, not even bothering to put on slippers, and dashed barefoot to the window. She peered at the sky, then quickly counted on her fingers—her expression growing increasingly grim.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

She frantically threw on her clothes, barely tying her hair up before rushing to the door, ready to head downstairs.

In the hallway, Fu Yanqing was just stepping out of his room. He was fully dressed, a dark-blue suit jacket draped over his arm, his head bent over his phone.

Hearing the commotion, he looked up and saw Su Xingyu standing in the hallway, her hair a wild mess and her feet bare. He froze for a moment.

“What’s wrong?”

“You can’t go out today!” Su Xingyu hurried over to him in quick strides, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ve done the calculations—today is a dire omen!”

Fu Yanqing looked at the disheveled girl before him, her hair looking like a bird’s nest and her face unwashed, and remained silent for two seconds.

“Did you just get up?”

“Never mind whether I’ve gotten up or not! Seriously, you absolutely cannot go out today!”

“Why?”

Su Xingyu grew agitated and grabbed his sleeve. “I was woken up by crows this morning. When I went outside to check the sky, I saw that the rosy dawn meant ‘stay indoors’—”

“That’s a weather proverb.”

“No, it’s about fortune!” She stamped her foot. “My grandfather taught me that there’s a reason why early-morning crows call: one call means good news, two calls mean bad news, but today they called three times!”

Fu Yanqing looked at her earnest expression and felt the corner of his mouth twitch slightly.

“Have you ever considered,” he said calmly, “that maybe the crows were calling because there were three of them?”

Su Xingyu choked.

She opened her mouth to argue, but realized she really had no rebuttal.

“Anyway, you’re not going out today!” She stubbornly blocked his path, throwing her arms wide like a little chick protecting its food. “If you want to leave, you’ll have to step over me!”

Fu Yanqing looked down at her.

She stood barefoot on the cold floor, her hair a tangled mess, one side of her pajama collar askew, her eyes wide open, her expression stubbornly saying, “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m still going to stop you!”

Suddenly, he found it kind of funny.

Not mocking—just… amused, in a way that made him think she was quite interesting.

“Move aside,” he said, his voice flat.

“Not moving!”

“Su Xingyu.”

“Even calling you ‘wife’ won’t work!”

Fu Yanqing was silent for a second, then gently pushed her aside and strode toward the stairs.

Su Xingyu chased after him, hopping with frustration. “Fu Yanqing! Listen to me! This morning I woke up feeling so anxious my left eyelid was twitching eight times—”

“Is a twitching left eyelid good or bad?”

“…It seems to be good.”

“So why are you still stopping me?”

“My right eyelid’s twitching too—six times! When both eyes twitch together, it’s double the bad luck!”

Fu Yanqing didn’t look back, but Su Xingyu swore she saw his shoulder give a tiny shake.

He was laughing!

“You’re laughing!” she fumed, chasing after him. “I’m being serious here! You really can’t go out today—I’ve calculated it. Today is a day of great misfortune; nothing should be done!”

“I have an important meeting,” Fu Yanqing said as he reached the door, already changing his shoes. “There’s no way I can cancel it.”

“What could be more important than life?”

He didn’t answer, just straightened up and gave her a glance.

It was a very subtle look, but Su Xingyu understood—he was saying, “My life isn’t worth much anyway.”

Her heart clenched suddenly.

“Then at least wait for me,” she turned around and ran back upstairs. “I’ll change my clothes and come with you—”

“No need.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he pushed open the door and glanced back at her, “you’re still barefoot.”

Su Xingyu looked down at her bare feet, then raised her head—and the door had already closed.

She stood there, stomping her feet in anger, the soles of her feet slapping against the cold tiles with a loud “pat-pat” sound.

“Fu Yanqing, you jerk! If you don’t listen to your wife, you’ll pay a heavy price sooner or later!”

Zhou Shen poked her head out from the kitchen, still holding a spatula. “Miss Su, what’s wrong?”

Su Xingyu took a deep breath and turned to run upstairs. “Aunt Zhou, please prepare a pot of calming herbal tea—make it strong! And also a box of Bruise and trauma ointment!”

End of Chapter 15: The Hall of Consciousness Turns Black