*Free?* Zhou Mingrui muttered silently, knowing all too well that "free" often came with hidden costs. He resolved to decline any "extra services" the fortune-teller might offer.
*Let's see if you can divine that I'm a transmigrator!*
Following the painted woman into the low tent, he ducked under the entrance. Inside, it was dim, with only a sliver of light filtering in to illuminate the table covered in cards.
The woman in the pointed hat seemed unfazed by the darkness. Her black dress flowing like water, she circled around the table and took a seat opposite him, lighting a candle that filled the tent with a flickering glow and an air of mystery.
Zhou Mingrui settled into his seat, his gaze skimming over the Tarot cards on the table. He spotted familiar images: the Magician, the Emperor, the Hanged Man, and Temperance.
*Could Russell really have been a fellow transmigrator… maybe even a compatriot from my own homeland?* Zhou Mingrui's lips twitched with a mix of wonder and disbelief.
He hadn't finished examining the cards when the woman reached out, gathered them all into a deck, and pushed it toward him.
"Shuffle and cut the cards," she instructed in her raspy voice.
"Me?" Zhou Mingrui echoed, surprised.
The woman's painted face shifted into a faint smile. "Of course. Each person's fate can only be divined by themselves. I am merely the interpreter."
Zhou Mingrui immediately grew cautious and asked, "You're not going to charge extra for the interpretation, are you?"
As a self-proclaimed folklorist, he knew this tactic well!
The fortune-teller blinked, caught off guard, and after a pause, replied gruffly, "It's free."
Relieved, Zhou Mingrui pushed the revolver deeper into his pocket, reached out, and skillfully shuffled and cut the deck.
"All set," he said, placing the shuffled cards back in the center of the table.
The fortune-teller clasped her hands and studied the deck for a moment before asking, "Apologies, I forgot to ask—what would you like to divine?"
Back in his college days, Zhou Mingrui had researched Tarot during an ill-fated crush and immediately replied, "The past, the present, and the future."
This three-card spread was a classic Tarot layout, with each card symbolizing a different time frame.
The fortune-teller nodded and then, with a faint smile, said, "Then please shuffle once more. Only when you focus on what you wish to ask can the cards reveal their true symbols."
*You're messing with me… All because I insisted on it being free…* Zhou Mingrui's face twitched with mild irritation, but he took a deep breath, took back the deck, and shuffled and cut it once more.
"This time, no more issues, right?" he asked, placing the deck back on the table.
"None," she assured, reaching out to draw a card from the top and setting it to his left. "This card represents the past."
She then placed the second card directly in front of him. "This card represents the present."
Finally, she picked up a third card and placed it on his right. "And this card represents the future."
"All set. Which card would you like to see first?" She looked up, her gray-blue eyes fixing on Zhou Mingrui with an intense gaze.
"Let's start with the 'present,'" Zhou Mingrui decided after a brief thought.
The fortune-teller nodded slowly and flipped over the card in front of him.
It depicted a young man dressed in luxurious clothes, wearing a vibrant headpiece, carrying a staff with a bundle tied to the top, and followed by a small dog tugging at his clothes. The number at the top read "0."
"The Fool," she murmured, her gray-blue eyes studying Zhou Mingrui intently.
*The Fool? The Tarot's zero card? A beginning? A symbol of infinite potential?* Zhou Mingrui, barely an amateur, made a rudimentary interpretation in his mind.
Just as the fortune-teller was about to speak, the tent flap was abruptly pulled open, and a burst of bright sunlight flooded in, making Zhou Mingrui squint instinctively.
"What are you doing, pretending to be me? Fortune-telling is *my* job!" a woman's voice growled angrily. "Get back to where you belong! You're supposed to be an animal trainer, not a fortune-teller!"
An animal trainer? As his eyes adjusted to the light, Zhou Mingrui saw another woman at the entrance, also in a pointed hat and black dress, with red and yellow face paint. She was taller and thinner than the woman sitting before him.
The fortune-teller seated across from him hastily stood up, looking sheepish. "Please, don't mind her. I just enjoy doing this. And I have to admit, sometimes my readings are surprisingly accurate… really…"
The faux fortune-teller lifted her skirt and hurriedly circled around the table, leaving the tent without another word.
The real fortune-teller turned to Zhou Mingrui with a smile. "Sir, would you like me to interpret your cards?"
Zhou Mingrui's lips twitched as he asked sincerely, "Is it free?"
"…No," the genuine fortune-teller replied flatly.
"Then never mind." Zhou Mingrui slid his hand back into his pocket, pressing down on the revolver and banknotes as he ducked out of the tent.
*Seriously, hiring an animal trainer to do Tarot readings!*
*Isn't every clown just a hidden fortune-teller in disguise?* he thought with a chuckle, quickly letting the incident fade from his mind.
At the "Lettuce and Meat Market," he spent 7 pence on a pound of rather mediocre lamb, then picked up fresh peas, cabbage, onions, and potatoes. Including the bread he had bought earlier, his total came to 25 copper pennies, or 2 sou and 1 penny.
"Money just flies out of your hands… poor Benson." Zhou Mingrui sighed, realizing he'd spent not only the two banknotes he'd brought but also the last penny from his trouser pocket.
Dismissing the thought, he quickly made his way back home.
With the necessary ingredients in hand, it was time for the luck-changing ritual!
…
Once the other tenants on the second floor had gone about their day, Zhou Mingrui took his time to prepare. He carefully translated the ritual phrases—*"Blessed Life, Profound Yellow Immortal Lord"* and the others—into both ancient Fusac and Loen, just in case the original incantation didn't work. If today's attempt failed, he planned to try again in the local language.
Considering the differences between worlds, adapting to local customs might be wise.
As for translating the phrases into Hermes, the language reserved for ancient prayers and rituals, he quickly abandoned the idea due to his limited vocabulary.
With his preparations complete, Zhou Mingrui took four loaves of rye bread from the bag. He placed one in the corner where the coal stove usually sat, another at the base of the dressing mirror, a third on top of the cabinet where two walls met, and the last one among the clutter piled to the right of his desk.
Taking a deep breath, Zhou Mingrui stood in the center of the room, centering himself for a few moments before solemnly stepping counterclockwise to trace a square.
As Zhou Mingrui took the first step, he murmured softly:
"*Blessed Life, Profound Yellow Immortal Lord.*"
With the second step, he recited earnestly, "*Blessed Life, Profound Yellow Heavenly Sovereign.*"
For the third step, he held his breath and whispered, "*Blessed Life, Profound Yellow Emperor.*"
And with the fourth step, he exhaled deeply and intently uttered, "*Blessed Life, Profound Yellow Heavenly Lord.*"
Returning to his starting position, Zhou Mingrui closed his eyes, waiting for the results. A whirlwind of emotions—anticipation, unease, hope, and fear—swirled within him.
*Can I really go back?*
*Will this work?*
*What if something goes wrong?*
In the darkness behind his closed eyes, a faint crimson glow seemed to pulse, and his mind buzzed with a relentless flood of thoughts.
Just then, he felt the air around him grow still, thickening into a sticky, eerie silence.
Soon, his ears were filled with whispers—sometimes faint, sometimes sharp, sometimes distant, sometimes alluring, sometimes manic, sometimes deranged.
Though he couldn't understand the murmurs, Zhou Mingrui found himself irresistibly drawn to listen, to discern them.
A stabbing pain erupted in his head, intense as if a steel spike were being driven through his skull.
He felt as though his mind were about to burst, his thoughts blurring in a kaleidoscope of surreal colors.
Something was wrong. Desperately, he tried to open his eyes, but the simple action proved impossible.
Tension mounted within him, threatening to snap at any moment. A dark, ironic thought surfaced in his mind:
*If you don't mess with fate, fate won't mess with you…*
As he neared his breaking point, the cacophony of overlapping voices faded away, leaving an uncanny silence in their wake. The atmosphere was ethereal, elusive.
Not only the atmosphere—his own body felt weightless, adrift.
Zhou Mingrui tried once more to open his eyes. This time, they opened effortlessly.
A vast, swirling gray mist filled his vision, hazy, endless, and boundless.
"What's going on?" he muttered, glancing around in confusion. He looked down and found himself floating at the edge of an infinite expanse of gray mist.
The fog flowed like water, punctuated by clusters of deep crimson "stars." Some were large, others tiny, some hidden in the depths, and some shimmering on the surface.
Staring at this holographic-like scene, Zhou Mingrui, half-bewildered, extended his right hand toward a crimson "star" hovering on the surface to his right, hoping to find a way out.
As his fingers brushed its surface, ripples spread outward, and the crimson flared like a fantastic burst of flames.
Startled, Zhou Mingrui pulled his hand back, but in his haste, his fingers accidentally grazed another "crimson star."
The second "star" flared brightly as well.
Suddenly, his mind went blank, his spirit dissipating in a dizzy haze.
...
In the capital of the Loen Kingdom, Backlund, in the Queen's district, inside a luxurious mansion…
Audrey Hall sat before her vanity, absently stroking the surface of an ancient, cracked copper mirror adorned with intricate patterns.
"Mirror, mirror, awaken…" she murmured softly.
"I command you to awaken, in the name of the Hall family!"
…
Audrey Hall tried one phrase after another, but the mirror remained unresponsive.
After more than ten minutes, she finally gave up, pouting as she murmured quietly, "Father must be deceiving me. He always says this mirror was a treasure of the Black Emperor of the ancient Solomon Empire, a truly extraordinary artifact…"
Before she could finish, the copper mirror on the table suddenly burst with a deep crimson glow, enveloping her completely.
…
On the Sonia Sea, a three-masted sailing ship, outdated by current standards, struggled through a storm.
Alger Wilson stood on the deck, his body rising and falling with the waves as he effortlessly maintained his balance. He wore a robe embroidered with lightning patterns and held a strangely shaped glass bottle in his hand, which sometimes bubbled, sometimes frosted over, and occasionally produced faint gusts of wind.
"All that's left is the blood of a ghost shark…" Alger muttered to himself.
Just then, a surge of crimson light erupted between his hand and the glass bottle, instantly engulfing the surrounding space.
…
High above the endless gray fog, Audrey Hall regained her sight, looking around in shock and confusion. She noticed a blurry figure of a man in the distance, his head indistinct, mirroring her bewildered gestures.
Moments later, they both noticed another figure nearby, shrouded in gray-white mist—a mysterious figure.
This "mysterious figure," Zhou Mingrui, was equally stunned.
"Sir, where are we?"
"What is it that you want?"
Audrey and Alger hesitated briefly, then spoke in unison, breaking the tense silence.