The smoke rose gently from the center of the bronze cauldron, its smoke swirling in the air as if carrying a mysterious power.
Chi Yuan narrowed his eyes slightly, staring at the cigarette hanging upside down in his hand.
After a while, he slowly raised his other hand, his fingers, adorned with black runes, gently brushing across the smoke, as if touching some mysterious power.
With a slight twist of his wrist, he brought the cigarette close to his lips, gently blew out a breath, and the smoke immediately dispersed, gathering into symbols above the bronze cauldron.
To the servants outside the silver chain, all they could see was Chi Yuan's increasingly towering figure amidst the smoke.
He muttered a few words to himself, then turned and inserted the incense sticks in his hand into the bronze cauldron.
"You can go out now."
Chi Yuan waved his hand, took out new incense sticks, and continued to offer sacrifices to the remaining bronze tripod.
The servant bowed in his direction and quietly closed the door.
As the smoke gradually dissipated, Chi Yuan stood in the center of the bronze cauldron, his hands clasped on his lower abdomen and his head bowed.
A dense array of black runes began to emerge on his face, twisting, entwining, and radiating a mysterious and eerie golden light.
His face looked as if he were wearing a torn-up human skin mask.
After the light reached its peak, the speed at which the runes twisted began to decrease, and finally faded away.
He looked at the crisscrossing threads in his palm, trying to decipher the result of the deity's pronouncement.
Yes, he was asking.
Is there anything the all-powerful High Priest might not understand?
Yes, for example, inexplicable dreams.
Three months ago, during a grand sacrificial ceremony, which also happened to be the coming-of-age ceremony of the Miao holy son, the current Miao holy son was born.
But Chi Yuan didn't even glance at Shen Yulou, because he was the one who organized the entire sacrificial ceremony.
Strangely enough, that very night he had indescribable dreams.
Ambiguous whispers, a beautiful body, an enticing fragrance, sticky sweat, and... seductive sounds that ignite desire.
Chi Yuan can't remember anything except the extreme pleasure, which still occasionally teases his senses.
In the hazy light, those blue eyes seemed to hint at the identity of the person he was making love with.
A new little guy?
He didn't think he could fall for this little guy's trick. Was there some kind of divine hint?
Chi Yuan prepared to consult the gods the next day, but unfortunately he didn't get any answers.
The answer given by the gods was... silence.
Do even the gods not know?
How could the gods not know?
Or perhaps the gods themselves don't want to answer?
Why don't you want to answer?
He was a persistent person. He vowed to get the answer from the gods, so he performed sacrifices for three months and asked them every day.
Worst of all, his dreams were becoming increasingly intense, and the sensations were becoming more and more real.
He could feel the smoothness of his skin, the heat of his breath, and the close, intimate connection during intercourse.
Even the self in the dream began to become uncontrollable.
His crying seemed to be the greatest source of his pleasure; when his tears fell on his body, it was as if an aphrodisiac had penetrated deep into his bones.
Yesterday, the gods seemed to be moved by his persistence and granted him the answer he desired.
The deity: Actually, I'm just annoyed by your questions.
The high priest's soul was strange; it was unclear where these things came from.
Chi Yuan still didn't understand.
What does "following one's heart" mean?
Is it that such a desire simply exists in his heart?
Or should we let him do as he pleases and continue dreaming?
Or, should we simply bring the person back and confine them, letting them follow the dream?
The ash from the burning incense in the bronze cauldron fell and drifted onto his face with the airflow.
Feeling a slight pain on his cheek, Chi Yuan brought his scattered consciousness back.
One must not be distracted before the sacrificial ceremony ends.
He reinterpreted the result in his palm; the threads intertwined, forming one node after another.
With his other hand slightly bent, he tried to calculate the god's answer.
Or just go with the flow?
What kind of heart are we following?
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