The old man shook his head, then uttering a long sigh.
He seemed to be feeling sorry for something.
"Take your money. I can't foretell based on the birth date you tell me." He said.
Ye Hao frowned, eyes full of doubts.
"Why?" He asked in puzzle. Was there any birth date that one's life couldn't be foretold upon?
The old man shook his head again, then sighed, saying, "The deceased, I won't foretell their fortune."
The old man said so concisely, which was normal answer when fortune-tellers were asked to predict the future based on the birth dates of the dead.
Ye Hao was stunned, as if he were suddenly poured a basin of cold water. That kind of coldness spread from the bottom of his heart to every part of his body.
He held his hand forcefully, feeling his fingers powerless.
"Sir..." Ye Hao looked at the old man again, with only a trace of expectation left in his eyes.
