Young Master Liu left the village head's house, heavy with thought, mulling over the string of bizarre occurrences lately. He was certain these strange events were linked somehow, though the connection remained hidden from him. Overhead, the bruised clouds pressed down with suffocating weight, threatening rain that never seemed to fall. Young Master Liu shrugged, tightened the strap of his bundle, and before he knew it, he had reached the edge of the street.

"Little brother, safe travels!"

A voice called out to him from an unseen place.

Young Master Liu instinctively halted, looking around. No one seemed close by, save for the fortune teller sitting by the roadside behind him. What business could I possibly have with a soothsayer? he thought. He's only trying to earn a few coins by reading my fortune.

Young Master Liu turned his head, spared the man a glance, and then disdainfully lifted his foot to continue walking—a clear signal that he wouldn't fall for any such trickery; the man could save his nonsense for fools.

Before Young Master Liu had taken two steps, the same voice buzzed in his ear again, irritatingly persistent, like some vile fly. Young Master Liu snapped his attention to the fortune teller, as there was no one else around. He had to assume the call was meant for him. He turned back toward the man. "Were you calling me?"

The fortune teller didn't nod, merely stating coldly, "If I'm here, and no one else is, who else would be calling you?"

Young Master Liu approached for a closer look and finally recognized the man he'd seen when first entering the street—a fellow in his late fifties or early sixties. Back then, the man had been wrestling with a heap of luggage, looking like he was moving house. Now, he merely nodded and smiled at Young Master Liu, as if they were old acquaintances. Young Master Liu, remembering this, had ignored him earlier and walked into the alley.

"What is it you want? I don't think I know you," Young Master Liu asked, his patience already thinning.

Seeing that Young Master Liu had finally engaged, the fortune teller chuckled, "Meeting is fate, young man. Might you sit down and talk for a moment?" As he spoke, he pulled a small stool from beside him and placed it at Young Master Liu's feet, the two dark lenses of his sunglasses fixed upon him.

Young Master Liu was in a hurry to attend to his business and made no move to sit. He cut straight to the point: "Are you here to tell my fortune?"

The fortune teller slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing the truth behind the lenses: a pair of half-lidded eyes. He gestured for Young Master Liu to sit: "Indeed. We share a destiny. How about a reading?" It was the same tired sales pitch.

Having seen the man's actual face, Young Master Liu felt a surge of contempt. If you aren't blind, why wear shades and pretend? Isn't that just being ridiculously profound?

Young Master Liu let out a cold laugh. "Who shares a destiny with you? Every soul who passes by you on this street meets you once. Why don't you ask them for a reading? Besides, my appearance is set, and my fate is sealed. Why on earth would I need to tell fortunes? Am I that bored?"

The reason Young Master Liu disliked this fortune teller so intensely wasn't the pretense of blindness, but because he considered the man a complete fraud, a charlatan living off gullible people—a street shaman. He specialized in fleecing the superstitious. In his days of purchasing goods around town, people like this were everywhere, promising to avert disaster or tell your name without asking a single question—all lies. The greatest tragedy of a fortune teller, he mused, was that even if they could predict others’ births, aging, sickness, and death, they couldn't foresee their own fate. Though there were exceptions, like King Wen of Zhou during the Shang Dynasty, or Yuan Tiangang during the Sui and Tang eras. Young Master Liu was certain this man was a cheat because Granny Fan had told him that a genuine diviner could only accurately read the fortunes of three people a day; the fourth would be unreliable.

Hearing the sharp edge in Young Master Liu's words, the fortune teller showed no anger, maintaining his smile. "Young man, that's not quite right. The fact that we can converse for this long is already a great sign of fate." Suddenly, he gasped dramatically. "Oh dear! Your Yintang is dark and your complexion is pale—this is a dreadful omen signaling imminent catastrophe!"

Young Master Liu grew annoyed and glared at him. "How dare you speak nonsense! With your eyes squinted shut, how can you see my Yintang is dark and my face is pale?" He turned to leave.

Hearing this challenge, the fortune teller made an effort to force his eyes slightly wider. "Young man, you must have stirred up some unclean entity!" He seemed only capable of perceiving the dark Yintang and pale face, completely oblivious to Young Master Liu's mounting fury, and delivered this line nonetheless.

Young Master Liu stared at him, finding the man progressively more irritating, the annoyance curdling into disgust. He decided wasting any more time on such a tedious person was unnecessary, tossing over his shoulder, "I can't be bothered with you," and walked away.

The fortune teller called after him, "Where are you going? Don't you believe me?"

"Let me tell you," Young Master Liu retorted, "Don't try to feed me those tired lines. The moment you bring that up, I switch straight into atheist mode."

The fortune teller looked utterly astonished. "Surely, you don't think I'm a swindler?"

Young Master Liu shook his head, speaking from the heart. "You seem like a pyramid scheme salesman."

And then he continued on his way.

The fortune teller, refusing to give up, shouted, "If you don't expel this evil soon, you are guaranteed a calamity involving bloodshed within seven days."

What a waste of talent, Young Master Liu thought. This guy should have joined the pyramid scheme army. With that smooth talk, a few minutes with Chairman Jiang, and that man would have been wholeheartedly waving the Marxist flag forever.

"You've dropped your amulet!"

Young Master Liu had only walked a few steps when that infuriating voice sounded again from behind. He paid it no mind and kept walking, until, quite suddenly, he froze. How did he know I wear a jade pendant around my neck? Can he divine that too? Thinking this, Young Master Liu nervously reached toward his chest, his heart hammering against his ribs. Where was the jade pendant? Had it slipped behind him? He fumbled at his throat, but even the cord was gone. An uneasy dread gripping him, he spun around to face the fortune teller, only to see the man nod faintly and smile at him.

Young Master Liu knew this fortune teller was far from ordinary.

He instantly pivoted and walked back toward him, approaching with a slight tremor. "Who exactly are you?"

"I am just a fortune teller." The smile was gone from his face; he sat there expressionless. He was so composed because Young Master Liu had returned of his own accord, not because he had been called back. The victory was already his.

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