The Shamanic Billionaire

TWO: Changes

Coming down from Qilan Mountain was like watching a slow-motion fall from grace.

Cai found himself in the backseat of a black sedan, overwhelmed by the scent of the car that made his head throb. To his left was Kyle, the only one not looking at him like he was a stain on a white cloth.

Up front, the driver and a guy named Dave, a guard with a neck like a bull and a temper to match, were focused on the winding road ahead.

"Seven hours," Dave grumbled, glancing at his watch. "Seven hours to pick up a kid who looks like he’s never even seen a flushing toilet. I still don’t understand why we couldn’t just send a bus ticket."

"Watch it, Dave," Kyle said, his voice low but firm. "The Patriarch specifically asked for an escort. This is an Arrows."

The driver chuckled. "An 'Arrows' by blood, maybe. But look at him. He’s been in the dirt so long, he’s probably forgotten how to talk."

Cai didn’t feel like talking at that moment; he was too busy staring out the window, watching the trees turn into a blur of green as various thoughts ran through his foggy mind.

A strange, heavy pressure built in his chest, the same feeling he had on the mountain, but here, away from the Old Master’s protection, it felt amplified. Like a radio stuck on static.

"Why are the cars so loud?" Cai finally asked, breaking his silence after hours.

Dave rolled his eyes. "It’s called an engine, kid. Try to keep up."

The ride dragged on, filled with tension. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the luxury car sped down a narrow, rain-slicked highway cutting through dense woods.

That strange pressure in Cai’s chest began to throb behind his eyes.

"Stop the car," he said out of nowhere.

Kyle turned to him, looking worried. "Are you feeling car sick, Young Master?"

"There’s something on the road," Cai mumbled, brow furrowing. He couldn’t see it, but he felt a cold, thick knot of energy right in their path.

"There’s nothing on the road but asphalt, Mountain boy," Dave snapped. "We’re already behind schedule because you wanted to stop for 'city snacks' three times. We’re not stopping again."

"Dave, slow down, the rain is…" Kyle started to say, but it was too late.

Cai didn’t see a person. Instead, he noticed a distortion, a ripple in the air that looked like a tear in a photograph. The car hit it at eighty miles per hour.

To the guards, it felt like a tire blowout. To Cai, it felt like a scream vibrating through his very soul. The car lost control, hydroplaning, spinning in a chaotic swirl of metal and shattered glass.

The last thing Cai saw before everything went black wasn’t the inside of the car. It was a pale, elongated hand reaching through the windshield.

And at that moment, his body screamed in agony, every inch of him throbbing with a dull ache as if his muscles are on fire.

His head was pounding, his vision was blurry, and every breath felt like a struggle, like shards of glass are scraping against his ribcage with each inhale.

When he finally opened his eyes again, the world was a washed-out blur of white. The rhythmic beep of a machine nearby made his head pound.

He tried to move, but his limbs felt like they were weighed down by lead.

"Look at this. Just look at this mess."

A woman’s voice cut through his mental fog, sharp and high-pitched, vibrating with irritation.

"The boy hasn’t even crossed the city limits, and he’s already cost us a specialized security team and a custom sedan. Is this a sign, Grant? Because it sure feels like a curse."

Cai turned his head slowly, which only made him feel nauseous.

By the window stood a woman, draped in a coat that probably cost more than the mountain temple, fingers twitching with restless energy.

Beside her was a man in a dark suit, looking older than Cai remembered, if he remembered him at all. The man’s face showed signs of exhaustion and something that looked an awful lot like cowardice.

"He’s awake," the man murmured, lowering his voice. He stepped closer to the bed but kept his distance, as if afraid to touch Cai.

Cai squinted at them. His vision flickered, and for a moment, the room dimmed as a bone-chilling cold swept over him. H

He felt a suffocating weight and a thick, oily presence pressing down on the man’s shoulders, along with a jagged, shivering cold radiating from the woman.

It made his stomach churn, like standing too close to something decaying, but all he could smell was expensive perfume.

"Who..." Cai’s voice came out as a dry rasp. "Who are you?"

The man flinched, pain flashing in his eyes before he masked it with a stiff, formal smile. "It’s been a long time, Cai. I’m... I’m your father. Grant. And this is Amelia, your new mother."

The woman, Amelia, didn’t smile or even nod. She crossed her arms, her gaze sweeping over Cai’s bandaged head and hospital gown with pure disdain.

"Your grandfather is the one who insisted on this," she said, bitterness dripping from her words. "He has some delusional notion about 'family unity' in his final days. So he called for you. And look how that turned out, an accident before you even got here. You’re already a liability."

Cai ignored her, too focused on the air behind them. The weight he sensed was getting stronger. It felt like two small, cold hands resting on Grant's neck.

"Why is it so crowded in here?" Cai muttered, his eyes losing focus.

Grant stepped back, confused. "Crowded? Cai, it’s just the three of us and the nurse outside."

"No," Cai whispered, his brows knitted in confusion. The presence was so thick he could almost taste it. "There are... things. Clinging to you. Two small things. They look so heavy. And they’re so angry."

The color drained from Grant’s face as he looked at Amelia, his mouth agape.

"What is your son saying? Is he hallucinating?" Amelia asked snappily, though she took a step back as if Cai had a contagious illness. "The crash scrambled his brain. Grant, I warned you! Your Father bringing a boy like this into the main house, into the Arrows legacy, is a mistake."

Cai focused on her, not really listening to shat she was saying. He saw the shivering, jagged cold around her throat tightening.

"They don’t like you," Cai stated calmly, his voice eerie for someone just waking up from a crash. "The two little ones behind you... they’re filled with hatred. Why are they clinging to you so sadly?"

Grant’s hand shook, and he opened his mouth to insist his son was just confused, but the words caught in his throat.

The room felt ten degrees colder, and Grant Arrows looked at his so-called"useless" son, feeling genuine, deep fear.