The Rose He Showed Off Is Putting Down Roots in a Garden of Her Own novel Chapter 329

Once the eighth day of the New Year passed, the entire corporate world surged back to life.

On the tenth day, the Whitaker family followed their annual tradition, traveling out of state to seek their yearly fortunes.

In the early years, the family chauffeur had driven them. But as Zane grew older, it became a strictly private affair for the three of them.

Zane took the wheel, driving his parents toward The Sanctuary of Mount Solitude.

It was an exhausting, grueling journey.

Technically, they could have driven the car all the way up the mountain, but Elena firmly believed that suffering bred sincerity. What was a little physical agony when her son's future was on the line?

It was the only tangible thing she felt she could do to protect him.

So, every year, the pampered socialite clamped her mouth shut and endured the brutal, silent trek to the summit.

Thirty years later, the Abbot was as composed and enigmatic as ever.

Decades ago, he was the one who had altered Zane's given name, rewriting his destiny.

And now, for the first time in thirty years, Elena drew a flawless, top-tier fortune stick.

For over a decade, she had drawn nothing but omens of disaster and despair. For the decade after that, she drew hollow, mediocre neutrality. Just a few years ago, she had drawn a horrific omen.

But today, she held a masterpiece.

A perfect fortune.

Elena stared at the bamboo stick, her hands trembling violently. Shock, panic, and sheer, unadulterated joy crashed through her as she looked to the Abbot for confirmation.

The old Abbot stared at the fortune for a long time. Finally, a faint smile touched his lips. He spoke only four words: "Destiny has been fulfilled."

Elena practically threw herself forward, begging him to elaborate. But the Abbot simply shook his head, offering the classic evasion: the secrets of the heavens could not be carelessly revealed.

Elena opened her mouth to push further, but Warren quickly placed a hand on her shoulder. He was just as ecstatic, but he knew better than to interrogate a spiritual master.

The Abbot turned his gaze to Zane. "My young friend, why don't you draw a fortune as well?"

For thirty years, Zane had escorted his parents up this mountain, but he had never once touched the fortune cylinder.

Stepping forward with polite deference, he shook the cylinder. A perfectly average, neutral stick fell out.

The Abbot stared at the stick in absolute silence. It seemed to take him several moments to accept that the heavens simply refused to be predicted.

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