On the very day I was born, nineteen bolts of lightning struck around our courtyard.
A fortune teller had declared me a born demon child—cursed to endure eighteen great tribulations in my lifetime. It was said that either he or I would perish by these calamities.
And sure enough, fate wasted no time.
On the very day of my birth, the fortune teller—holding me in his arms as he stepped out of the village—collapsed suddenly and died without warning.