Chapter 18: Setting Up a Stall in the Park

He was a man marked by death, so naturally he would not ask to meet with Yue Yi. That left only his wife—the late elderly lady.

Fu Qixi glanced at him, her mood darkening further.

The last time she saw Yue Jianhong, although faint strands of karmic black threads and bloodstained energy clung to him, they had been suppressed by merit and virtue. But now, he was clearly different.

He had been tainted.

“Did you go to the hospital?” Fu Qixi asked, her voice cold and unhidden.

Yue Jianhong looked flustered and nodded. “I was worried… so I followed you there. Only for half a minute—I didn’t dare go inside.”

He was very different from an ordinary ghost. Having saved a city, he had been stained with blood—someone who had truly wielded a knife in life.

Ordinarily, merit and virtue would be enough to counterbalance the sin of having harmed others.

But now, that merit was contaminated; those karmic threads would amplify infinitely, overwhelming the golden light covering him until they consumed his entire spirit.

Who would have thought that lifeless, dead fish eyes could have such an appetite! Not only consuming time, but also coveting souls imbued with merit.

Fu Qixi watched the old man bowing his head in apology. Though lame, he always kept his back straight. Ultimately, she couldn’t bring herself to speak harshly.

“All right, you are a person worthy of respect. There’s no need for this.”

Yue Jianhong hurriedly nodded, seeming embarrassed to say, “Thank you, Master. Can I… see her one last time? Even if it’s just once more.”

Fu Qixi sighed deeply and said earnestly, “Be obedient. You promised to come see me tomorrow, didn’t you?”

Her tone was as if coaxing a kindergartener.

Yue Jianhong blushed. “Yes, yes, thank you, Master.”

Before leaving, he didn’t forget to express his gratitude, carrying a sense of hurried departure.

Fu Qixi moved her fingers slightly, pressing her forehead in a headache, as if deep in thought.

Only after he had gone far did she realize something belatedly.

Had she actually eaten two afternoon meals?

Well, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t easily full and wouldn’t gain weight. What harm was there in eating more?

Quickly reconciling with herself, Fu Qixi carried the cardboard box to the liveliest spot in the park.

Right beside the speakers used by the square dance grandmas.

At this hour, there weren’t many people yet, and the speakers had already been placed in the central, prominent spot.

The girl was dressed warmly, with fuzzy rabbit slippers, a green snake-shaped plush hat, a pink jacket, and a gray slant-shoulder cloth bag.

Her outfit was a hodgepodge of mismatched pieces, and she held a cardboard sign with a couple of arrogant phrases scrawled on it.

She was truly eye-catching.

Even passersby couldn’t help but steal a few extra glances at her conspicuous ensemble.

Fu Qixi squinted, nibbling on a white radish, the sun making her drowsy.

Some idle onlookers gathered around, watching the girl nodding off. A few even pulled out their phones to record videos, murmuring curious remarks.

Xiong Xiaoxia, carrying a backpack, walked past on the path. She had just returned from the hospital to fetch clothes. Snippets of “fortune-telling” and “fake” drifted to her ears.

She paused, her hollow eyes turning to look.

…

“How much?”

The crowd was startled awake by the three words, turning to see the woman who had suddenly squeezed in.

Wearing a warm, oversized down jacket, her face pale and waxen, hair tied up carelessly, likely without a comb.

Some thought she was just here for entertainment. Surely she wasn’t seriously going to seek a fortune teller?

Someone recognized her and couldn’t help but warn, “Xiaoxia, don’t get fooled again.”

Xiong Xiaoxia, as if not hearing, silently took out her phone, opening the scan code screen, and repeated, “How much?”

Among the crowd, several who knew her frowned and began to scold Fu Qixi.

“Young lady, you’re so young—don’t get involved in any deceitful schemes.”

“Exactly. You have hands and feet. Why not work honestly? There’s no such thing as overnight riches.”

The strangers merely watched the spectacle.

Only the two protagonists remained unmoved, ignoring everything around them.

Fu Qixi glanced at Xiong Xiaoxia, her hand reaching for the phone facing the crowd, flipping to the payment page. “I can’t help with your daughter’s situation for now.”

Those hoping to persuade her to turn back: “Huh? Isn’t the next line supposed to be ‘Give me money, and I’ll help you’?”

Only Xiong Xiaoxia caught the key point immediately—she said “for now,” which meant…

“Is there any way? How long? I can’t wait.”

Her eyes bloodshot, voice urgent and full of hope.

In contrast, Fu Qixi remained calm, munching on her white radish.

“Within a week. If you’re anxious, you can buy a talisman for safety now. It might ease your daughter’s suffering somewhat.”

Xiong Xiaoxia’s breath caught for two seconds. She took a deep breath to steady herself and asked hoarsely, “Fine. How much for the talisman?”

Everyone else: Oh, so she’s waiting here.

The next moment, Fu Qixi held up one finger: “One yuan.”

Wha… what?

Until the phone notification showed one yuan received!

No one reacted immediately, knowing that one yuan nowadays wasn’t even enough to buy a steamed bun.

Xiong Xiaoxia clutched the talisman tightly to her chest, as if grasping the last straw of salvation. She walked away distracted.

She left, but the crowd’s discussion was far from over.

Some who didn’t understand the situation frowned. “Could this be staged with actors?”

He was only guessing, but as soon as he spoke, the crowd rose up against him.

“Don’t talk nonsense! Xiaoxia’s from our neighborhood. Her situation is no joke! How dare you speak like that?”

“Young man, where did you learn to talk like that? Don’t spout nonsense if you don’t understand. Shut your foul mouth.”

Shi Botao was a streamer with a hundred thousand followers. He often went out seeking content and was curious now. Seeing the misunderstanding, he quickly apologized.

“My fault, I didn’t get the facts straight.” He smiled apologetically.

The speaker didn’t mind, waving off the apology and sighing.

“Xiaoxia is a poor soul. Her daughter has leukemia. That once happy family shattered in an instant.”

“Exactly. I heard her daughter is only six years old. Sigh…”

Shi Botao was puzzled. “Then why does she still want a fortune teller? Isn’t she afraid of being scammed?”

Fortune telling was notoriously easy to be cheated by, and illness was the most expensive thing.

“What choice do you have? No room for treatment, no cure. You can only grasp at other possibilities. As long as there’s life, there’s hope.”

The crowd fell silent.

Fu Qixi then glanced around. “One hour left. Those who want readings or divinations, hurry up. No refusals, no upfront payment. First the reading, then the payment.”

Her sales pitch was clear and direct, giving the impression she was waiting for Xiong Xiaoxia to come by before opening business.

If she had infringed on people’s interests first, most would resent it. But getting value first, then choosing to pay, many were willing.

Because the value they received was real and visible.

Soon, those truly in trouble stepped forward.

“Then, please read mine.”

It was Shi Botao, still apologetic, with no seat nearby. He half-squatted, smiling, and asked, “Mind if I record a video?”