Fortune-telling stall.
Qin Hao sat opposite the fortune teller, with fifty yuan on the table.
Qin Hao stretched out his hand, "Supreme Heavenly Venerate, sir, I heard your fortune-telling is quite effective. Could you read my fortune and see what my future holds?"
The middle-aged fortune teller was sweating profusely as he looked at the fifty yuan taken out by the Heavenly Master.
He dared not accept it for a long time.
Being asked for a fortune-telling by someone in a purple robe.
Who would dare to do that?
The fortune-teller was almost in tears.
He hadn't learned much of substance during his few years on the mountain, just a set of generic phrases to deceive ordinary people. Deceiving a Heavenly Master was like seeking death!
The fortune teller gave the money back.
He stood up, took out his own money box, and placed a stack of money inside.
Then, the middle-aged fortune teller respectfully knelt in front of Qin Hao with a slap.
