Chu Qianli waited for Tan Muxing to finish his phone call to his family. Then the two of them headed back to class together to prepare for the afternoon lessons.
He Shichen came over to ask a question. He wasn’t sure if Chu Qianli had been summoned by the teacher to contact her parents. Instead of waiting for the homeroom teacher to come looking for him, he figured it’d be better to take the initiative and go now.
He Shichen had already noticed a pattern: whenever Chu Qianli disappeared from his sight for even a moment, the homeroom teacher would soon notify him for a chat.
Tan Muxing responded good-naturedly, “This time it was my parents who were called. The teacher didn’t ask her to call her family.”
Chu Qianli propped her head on her hand and said, “Ah, there’s no need to trouble Mom and Dad. If anything happens, can’t you just handle it, big brother?”
At home, Chu Qianli seemed obedient and adorable. He Zhenghe and Yu Shen had no idea about her little antics, let alone the pile of minor troubles she stirred up at school.
“…” He Shichen suppressed the urge to scold her and said numbly, “I have a competition next week. You’re not planning to cause trouble, are you?”
He Shichen was very busy next week and didn’t have time to meet with the homeroom teacher.
Chu Qianli replied lazily, “Who can predict the future? Want me to give you a reading?”
He Shichen: “…”
He Shichen decisively decided to leave some time open just in case an emergency came up. He had a hunch that if life continued like this, he would end up like his second uncle—unmarried and childless—mainly because dealing with a mischievous kid was exhausting.
Qiu Qingkong also hurried over, flustered, to ask questions. She had only stepped out to ask for advice on filming techniques, and when she returned, she found that two of her companions had been taken away. Naturally, she was baffled.
She initially thought their fortune-telling business had been shut down, but it turned out they were harassed by some local bullies, leading to an unpleasant altercation.
Qiu Qingkong said, “As long as it’s nothing serious. The homeroom teacher is fair—she’ll see we weren’t causing trouble on purpose!”
Tan Muxing had never lost his temper in class. Anyone with eyes could tell who had instigated the conflict.
Chu Qianli smiled and patted Tan Muxing. “He just said he’s going to provide costumes for the shoot and make divination gloves when he gets home.”
“I’m not—I didn’t—stop making things up!” Tan Muxing quickly denied it three times in a row, stiffly adding, “I really don’t know how to make clothes for people…”
Chu Qianli said, “Oh, come on. You can learn. Everyone starts out not knowing. But as long as you set a deadline, you’ll suddenly find you can do anything. The less time you have, the more you can accomplish. It’s like magic!”
Tan Muxing: “…”
In the end, Tan Muxing had no choice but to order some professional books online. He now felt like a freshly hired intern—completely untrained, yet assigned a mountain of tasks he had to self-learn to complete.
“That’s great. Let’s make this official. I’ve already come up with several proposals. The teacher can pick which theme we’ll shoot,” Qiu Qingkong said as she scrolled through her phone. “I’ll post them in the group!”
Chu Qianli began browsing the group chat messages. Qiu Qingkong had indeed come up with a lot of ideas, such as “What are the characteristics of your next romantic partner?” or “When and how will you strike it rich?” It was clear she had drawn inspiration from popular videos online.
After some thought, Chu Qianli tapped on one of the ideas with her finger and said, “Let’s go with this one.”
“What good things will happen next month?” Qiu Qingkong leaned over to take a look, curious. “Why did you pick this one? I was worried it might seem too plain when I wrote it.”
Chu Qianli said, “This one has a time limit. It’ll be more accurate, and we can tie it to the astrological chart for the month.”
Public readings can’t cater to individuals, so the accuracy is affected. To describe a group of people broadly, you need some limiting conditions.
“The astrological chart?” Qiu Qingkong asked.
“Yeah. Planetary movements are like cosmic weather. Different astrological cycles focus on different themes. For example, if Jupiter and Uranus form an aspect, the focus during that time might be on technological advancements. In the news, this could manifest as breakthroughs in digital currencies, anti-aging drugs, aerospace, and so on,” Chu Qianli explained with a smile. “Many people think astrology has nothing to do with them, but their lives are already surrounded by these developments.”
Qiu Qingkong seemed thoughtful. “Is that really a thing?”
Chu Qianli nodded and added, “A lot of major historical events align with astrological phenomena. Sometimes they even give astrologers a headache. Early astrology was built on a closed system. People believed ‘seven’ was the perfect number, and ancient astrologers used the seven classical planets for divination. But when Uranus was discovered, their rigorous system was disrupted. Astrology almost didn’t survive, and the scientific era began!”
Tan Muxing, still browsing for books on clothing design, looked up and quietly remarked, “Why do you sound so gleeful about astrology nearly being destroyed, given that you’re an astrologer?”
When Chu Qianli mentioned astrology nearly being “blown up,” she seemed inexplicably cheerful.
Chu Qianli proudly raised her chin. “Because astrology won’t die. Only rigid thinkers do. Uranus is the planet of change—it represents challenging authority and breaking established rules, the perfect antidote to old-fashioned ways!”
“There’s no need to feel bad if astrologers lose their prestige. The stars don’t care whether people believe in them. Only those who use the stars to gain power and status will worry,” Chu Qianli said coolly, her lips curving upward. “If they can’t view things from a progressive perspective, isn’t it only natural they’d be ‘blown up’?”
“…” Tan Muxing suddenly felt her past arguments with other astrologers weren’t entirely unprovoked.
Qiu Qingkong said, “So we’re finalizing this theme? Will it use the astrological chart for next month?”
Chu Qianli replied, “Yes. If we don’t release the video next month, it’ll expire. I feel like if we pick another topic, you’ll drag your feet editing after shooting.”
Chu Qianli had a hunch that if they chose a different theme, Qiu Qingkong would lose enthusiasm after filming, and the video might languish in post-production—given her track record of short-lived interests.
Qiu Qingkong was stunned. “…So you picked this to cure my procrastination?”
Earlier, Qiu Qingkong had gone to borrow equipment from a classmate. The three of them planned to shoot the video after school another day.
Qiu Qingkong shared sample videos from popular platforms in the group chat. Spotting Chu Qianli’s profile picture, she sighed. “Teacher, at least set a proper profile picture for your account!”
Yu Xin had helped Chu Qianli set up her bank card back then, but she hadn’t set a profile picture for her daughter’s WeChat. As a result, Chu Qianli’s avatar was still the default gray image.
Qiu Qingkong felt that Chu Qianli was just too lazy, as she hadn’t bothered to change it all this time.
“But I don’t know what to use,” Chu Qianli said.
“I’ll send some pictures to the group, and we can all use one together!” Qiu Qingkong suggested.
After filtering through some options, Qiu Qingkong sent a bunch of images to the group chat. Not only did she help Chu Qianli find a suitable profile picture, but she also roped Tan Muxing into changing his avatar to match.
Chu Qianli chose Sakura Kinomoto as her avatar, Tan Muxing chose Tomoyo Daidouji, and Qiu Qingkong picked Kero. The group suddenly transformed into the Cardcaptor Sakura trio.
Chu Qianli exclaimed excitedly, “The big polar bear has evolved into Tomoyo Daidouji!”
Tan Muxing: “…” He couldn’t shake the feeling this was a subtle hint for him to make clothes.
At home, after putting down his school bag, Tan Muxing immersed himself in pondering how to design the gloves. He wasn’t sure what style to make.
On his shelves were elegant and finely crafted dolls. As he picked out materials like pearls and lace in his room, he suddenly heard a knock at the door. He quickly turned around and replied, “Come in.”
Outside the door, a family member didn’t come in but instead asked cautiously, “Star, are you okay at school today?”
It was unheard of for Tan Muxing to get into a fight at school. He’d never even raised his voice before.
The family knew he was usually the peaceful type, so they came to check on him, worried he might be feeling down.
“I’m fine,” Tan Muxing replied, having already forgotten about Wang Zheng. His mind was now occupied with the task of making a return gift.
“That’s good. What are you working on in your room?”
“Designing,” Tan Muxing said after a brief pause, adding softly, “I might be busy a little late tonight.”
“Huh?” The family member paused, surprised that he seemed in good spirits. Finally, they advised kindly, “Alright, just don’t stay up too late. Design work…”
“…can make your hair fall out.”
After hearing footsteps leaving from outside the door, Tan Muxing carefully placed the Fool card next to his desk and went online to search for handmade tutorials.
On the day of the video shoot, Chu Qianli put on her new gloves. Admiring the delicate hanging pearls, she waved her hands excitedly to hear the lovely sound of the pearls and crystals clinking together. She exclaimed, “This really does look like the style you use for doll clothes!”
Tan Muxing sighed. “It’s my first try; this is the best I could do.”
Qiu Qingkong commented, “These aren’t gloves; they’re more like Lolita-style accessories. But they’re quite pretty.”
The design looked like fingerless hand accessories made with purple silk, black lace, pearls, and crystal fragments. It had a mysterious, melancholic Gothic aesthetic, perfectly suited to a fortune-teller’s vibe.
With her new gear in hand, Chu Qianli smoothly began recording the video, using tarot cards and an astrological chart to create the content.
Qiu Qingkong, acting as the videographer, focused only on filming Chu Qianli’s hands and card movements. The shoot went off without a hitch.
Although the theme of the recording was “What good things will happen next month,” astrological shifts don’t adhere strictly to monthly boundaries. Chu Qianli adjusted the timeline slightly to cover the period from the end of this month to the next.
Fearing the content would expire, Qiu Qingkong edited the video overnight after filming and rushed to upload it. Her working style was always like this: full of energy and determination while her enthusiasm lasted, but lethargic once it faded. Fortunately, her efficiency had been decent recently.
On the platform, divination videos were abundant, and since Qiu Qingkong’s account was still new, the initial view count wasn’t very high.