Ficorpio
Chapter 1
My best friend’s prenatal tests came back positive for trisomy 21.
Down syndrome. Intellectual disability.
I urged her to terminate the pregnancy.
Right there in the doctor’s office, she pulled out her Pana Tarot deck.
“The Ace of Cups, upright. My baby is the Scholar Star reborn. He’s destined for Tsinghua.”
Three months later, she gave birth to a son with Down syndrome.
Then she posted my photograph all over social media.
“My quack-doctor best friend cursed my baby!”
What she didn’t tell anyone was that I was a doctoral student at Tsinghua Medical School.
And three years later, her son really did make it into Tsinghua—
on my anatomy dissection table.
“His nuchal translucency measurement is 5.8 millimeters. The Down syndrome screening came back high-risk.”
The doctor pushed the prenatal examination report across the desk.
“We recommend amniocentesis to confirm the diagnosis.”
Sophie Hart didn’t take the report. Instead, she lowered her head and reached into her purse.
She pulled out a velvet case containing her most treasured Pana Tarot deck, its cards stamped with gold foil.
“Wait. I need to ask what the baby thinks first.”
For a moment, I thought I had misheard her.
“Sophie, this is a hospital. Not a fortune-teller’s parlor.”
She ignored me. Her fingers flew over the deck before she drew three cards.
“The King of Cups, upright.”
“The Star, upright.”
“And—”
Her eyes lit up.
“The Sun, upright! See? The Scholar Star!”
“My son is the Scholar Star reincarnated!”
A dreadful silence settled over the consultation room.
The other doctor adjusted her glasses.
“Mrs. Hart, from a medical perspective—”
“Medical, medical, medical!”
Sophie suddenly shrieked.
“That’s all you people ever talk about!”
“I consulted Silas Vale last week. He said the baby in my womb has the destiny of a once-in-a-century genius.”
“He’ll have his pick of Tsinghua or Peking University!”
I reached out and gripped her shoulder.
“Sophie, listen to me.”
“Increased nuchal translucency can indicate a chromosomal abnormality.”
“It means your child may have a severe intellectual disability.”
“It means he may never be able to live independently.”
“It means caring for him could consume the rest of your life.”
My voice trembled. My eyes burned.
“I’ve reviewed the research.”
“With an NT measurement of 5.8, the likelihood of Down syndrome is over ninety percent.”
“Terminating the pregnancy would be best for you.”
“For your entire family.”
“Please. You need to face reality.”
Sophie stared at me.
The confusion in her eyes slowly hardened into ice.
Then—
Smack!
Her palm struck my face.
Pain flared across my cheek, and my ears rang.
“For my own good?”
“You’re cursing my son to die!”
I pressed a hand to my burning cheek and stared at her in disbelief. She looked half-mad.
The nurses and doctors around us had frozen too. None of them had expected her to become so hysterical.
Especially after I had warned them in advance that she was my best friend.
We had known each other for fifteen years.
From middle school through college.
Chapter 2
When she got married, I gave her a wedding gift worth one hundred thousand yuan.
When she miscarried, I stayed by her side for seven straight days.
And now—
she was accusing me of jealousy.
“I’m not—”
“Enough!”
She shot to her feet.
Pana Tarot cards scattered across the floor.
Her bloodshot eyes locked on mine.
“I am having this baby.”
“Anyone who tries to convince me to terminate this pregnancy is my enemy.”
At that moment, her husband, Daniel Hart, stormed into the room, his heavy face twisted with anger.
“What happened?”
He jabbed a finger at me.
“Did this quack try to scare you?”
“What qualifications do you even have?”
“I’m in a direct-entry doctoral program at Tsinghua Medical School.”
“A doctorate?”
He gave a contemptuous snort.
“Looks like studying rotted your brain.”
“My wife’s Pana Tarot cards are a hell of a lot more accurate than your ultrasounds!”
I picked up the report and tried to show him the results.
He slapped it out of my hand.
The pages fluttered into the trash.
“Keep running your mouth, and I’ll make sure you never work in medicine again.”
The doctor stepped forward, trying to defuse the situation.
Daniel pulled out his smartphone and aimed the camera at my face.
“Come on.”
“Smile.”
“I’m posting this online.”
“Let everyone decide who’s right.”
“A Tsinghua doctoral student pressures a mother to kill her baby.”
“That headline explosive enough for you?”
I retreated half a step until my back struck the cold wall.
Sophie crouched on the floor.
She picked up the scattered cards one by one with exquisite care, as if she were gathering the pieces of her son’s future.
“Sophie.”
My voice had gone hoarse.
“If that child really has Down syndrome, it will destroy your life.”
She looked up at me.
Then she smiled gently.
“No, it won’t.”
“The cards already told me.”
“He’s going to Tsinghua.”
It was absurd.
Utterly, horrifyingly absurd.
So absurd that my palms began to sweat.
The video got out anyway.
Daniel hadn’t posted it.
Sophie had edited and uploaded it herself.
The title read: “My Tsinghua Best Friend Is Jealous I’m Having a Boy—and Says My Baby Will Be Mentally Disabled.”
In the video, I stood in my white medical coat with a grave expression, looking as if I were delivering a death sentence.
Sophie had added a caption beneath it:
“She brought me a stack of reports in English that I couldn’t understand. Then she tried to force me into some hospital basement for a needle procedure. She said there was something wrong with my baby’s brain and that I had to kill him.”
The comments exploded.
“This is the kind of person Tsinghua admits?”
“She can’t have a baby herself, so she’s trying to make someone else terminate hers?”
“No one is more vicious than a jealous woman.”
“Block that so-called best friend immediately.”
Chapter 3
Within hours, people had found my account on X.
Then my Instagram.
Even my TikTok.
Three years ago, I had posted a single video of my cat. Now its comment section was flooded with abuse.
“You don’t deserve to own a cat.”
Dr. Margaret Ellis called me into her office.
“Claire,” she began carefully, “the medical school takes its reputation very seriously.”
I said nothing.
“This situation is trending nationwide. The school is under tremendous pressure.”
My hands curled into fists. “Dr. Ellis, all I did was recommend prenatal diagnostic testing. That’s standard medical procedure.”
She sighed.
“Standard procedure? That isn’t how the public sees it. They think you were encouraging her to kill her baby.”
My phone rang as soon as I stepped out of her office.
It was the hospital’s human resources department.
“Dr. Bennett, we’re afraid we’ll have to suspend your outpatient clinic for the time being.”
I stopped in the middle of the corridor.
“Until the controversy dies down,” the woman added.
Sunlight sliced through the windows, dividing me cleanly in two.
One half was still a direct-entry doctoral student at Tsinghua Medical School.
The other half had become the internet’s public enemy.
But worse was still to come.
Sophie started a livestream.
She sat in the nursery, surrounded by pink walls covered in Pana Tarot cards. Her face was streaked with tears, yet somehow she still looked heartbreakingly beautiful.
“I never imagined this could happen,” she sobbed. “We’ve been best friends for fifteen years. But because she was jealous, she wanted to kill my baby.”
Comments flew across the screen faster than I could read them.
“Sending hugs.”
“A friend like that belongs in prison!”
“Silas Vale was right. You can tell from that woman’s face that she’s cruel!”
Someone asked, “Who’s Silas Vale?”
Sophie’s eyes lit up.
“My mentor. He’s one of the country’s leading Pana Tarot readers and spiritual diviners.”
She leaned toward the camera.
“He’s the one who discovered that my son is the Scholar Star reborn!”
Then she lowered her voice, as if sharing a terrifying secret.
“And he said my best friend was born under a malignant sign. She brings death to unborn sons. Any pregnant woman who gets too close to her will miscarry.”
I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling.
I had already investigated Silas Vale.
His real name was Marcus Vale.
Twenty years earlier, he had caused a disturbance at the hospital where my mother worked. He had been using Pana Tarot readings to scam money from cancer patients, and my mother had personally reported him to the police.
Now he had become Sophie’s mentor.
And I had become the curse.
That evening, someone sent a funeral wreath to my apartment.
It was covered in white flowers, with a ribbon bearing four words:
“MURDER DEMANDS A LIFE.”
I carried it downstairs and threw it into the dumpster.
When I turned around, I saw Sophie’s latest post.
“My Best Friend Received a Funeral Wreath. Karma Has Begun.”