In the classroom, Chu Qianli sat by the window, happily flipping through a book, while Tan Muxing focused intently on stitching something.
Since the astrology apprentice hadn’t been taking clients at school recently, the two of them were finally able to enjoy their lunch break in peace. It wasn’t as chaotic as when they first set up their stall and business was booming.
People’s sense of novelty only lasts so long. At first, everyone wanted frequent readings, but once their problems were resolved, they stopped coming. It was a normal cycle.
“Teacher, someone sent me a message! The video brought in business!” Qiu Qingkong excitedly rushed over after checking the messages in the video backend. She glanced at the two of them, seemingly lost in their peaceful activities, and asked, “What are you guys doing?”
Tan Muxing held a cloth pouch and replied honestly, “She wants me to stitch stars onto her tarot pouch.”
Qiu Qingkong looked curious. “Does stitching stars on it improve accuracy?”
“Of course,” Chu Qianli replied confidently. “Seeing the embroidered stars puts me in a good mood, and doesn’t that improve accuracy?”
Qiu Qingkong: “?”
Chu Qianli tilted her head and muttered quietly, “Honestly, I just didn’t expect him to finish the gloves so quickly…”
Chu Qianli had assumed Tan Muxing would take much longer to complete the gloves, but he’d delivered the finished product in no time. She felt it was necessary to assign her desk mate new tasks. Resting was out of the question—no matter how quickly work was completed, there was always room for more.
Noticing that Chu Qianli was reading, Qiu Qingkong asked in surprise, “What are you reading? Is it a book about astrology?”
Chu Qianli seemed allergic to studying, so seeing her voluntarily pick up a book was highly unusual. Naturally, Qiu Qingkong assumed it must be related to astrology.
Chu Qianli held up the book, showing off the cover as she praised it. “No, this is a masterpiece of the ages.”
Qiu Qingkong squinted at the title. The book turned out to be Das Kapital.
Tan Muxing weakly commented, “Why do I feel like this book reveals the truth about capitalism, but you’re learning how capitalists exploit others from it?”
The more he thought about it, the more wrong it seemed. He had finished the gloves only to be tasked with stitching a pouch. Now that he thought about it, this cycle of work seemed endless.
“Ahaha,” Chu Qianli laughed nervously, pretending not to hear. She quickly changed the subject, turning to Qiu Qingkong. “What were you saying just now?”
Qiu Qingkong said, “Someone sent me a message saying the video was incredibly accurate! They even described it as mystical!”
She animatedly recounted how Zhou Qiang had connected four pieces of good news after watching the video. Thrilled that their first uploaded video was receiving such positive feedback, the astrology apprentice couldn’t wait to share it with her companions.
Chu Qianli froze for a moment after listening and said in surprise, “That can’t be real.”
Qiu Qingkong protested, “Why not?”
Chu Qianli, still skeptical, said seriously, “You’d better tell her—I’m a proper astrologer, not some incense-burning fortune-teller. I’m the one who usually fools people. If she thinks she can scam the biggest scammer, she’s got it all wrong!”
Chu Qianli was skeptical about Zhou Qiang’s story. She was predicting trends, not instantly changing someone’s fortune.
Public divination is inherently less accurate than private readings, and this story sounded full of holes and overly coincidental.
Tan Muxing: “… Does being a proper astrologer and a scammer mean the same thing?”
Qiu Qingkong hesitated. “How could it be fake? She even wants a private reading with you, teacher.”
Chu Qianli hesitated and tested the waters. “Is she an adult?”
Qiu Qingkong: “She said she’s job hunting, so she must be an adult, right?”
“Well, it’s someone we met online. Who knows if what they’re saying is true or not,” Chu Qianli said, casually rolling her astrology dice. After glancing at the result, she exclaimed in surprise, “Huh, she’s not a scammer after all.”
Seeing her use the dice to verify the situation, Qiu Qingkong asked curiously, “Didn’t we also read for our classmates before? They were all minors.”
“That’s different. We did face-to-face readings, and we could meet them again in the future. People online just chat for a bit and then disappear—you never know if they’ll come back,” Chu Qianli explained. “Some astrologers refuse to do readings for minors online because they don’t want to take on the responsibility.”
“Why?”
“People are constantly growing, and knowing advanced information before they’re ready can be harmful. It might even create negative psychological suggestions. A natal chart isn’t a fixed game stat—it’s more like flowing water. It has tendencies but doesn’t stay still.”
Chu Qianli gave an example: “It’s like searching for symptoms on the internet. If you don’t know what you’re doing, or if you encounter an unqualified fortune-teller, you might scare yourself half to death.”
In metaphysics, belief and disbelief are two sides of the same coin, but belief and superstition are entirely different matters.
Humans are both powerful and fragile—strong enough as a species to thrive in crises but fragile enough as individuals to be misled by poor guidance.
Chu Qianli hesitated to give Zhou Qiang a reading because her situation sounded too uncanny. She felt it wasn’t appropriate to guide someone in that state. People need to have discernment when seeking divination; relying blindly on a fortune-teller is dangerous.
Tan Muxing was startled. “Negative psychological suggestions?”
“Yes, some fortune-tellers only explain a child’s fate to their parents because kids don’t understand those words,” Chu Qianli said with a smile, adding a warning. “And it’s dangerous to casually hand over your natal chart details. If you meet someone skilled and malicious, they could easily control you.”
“That’s why it’s important to find a trustworthy fortune-teller,” she concluded.
Qiu Qingkong was stunned. “Is it really that serious? But I’ve told you my natal chart, and nothing happened to me.”
Chu Qianli grinned. “How do you know you’re not under my control?”
Qiu Qingkong: “???”
Tan Muxing quietly continued stitching the astrologer’s pouch, muttering, “No, I think I can feel it…”
He had a strong feeling there would be more tasks after this pouch—possibly even harder ones. He was already thoroughly under her control.
In her dorm room, Zhou Qiang received a reply from the video creator Magic Card Girl Squad. The astrologer agreed to do a private reading but requested proof that Zhou Qiang was a clear-headed adult.
Zhou Qiang: “?” What kind of ridiculous requirement was that?
The Magic Card Girl Squad gently explained that Zhou Qiang’s situation sounded too coincidental. It could be due to the low traffic on the video concentrating its energy, Zhou Qiang’s natal chart being perfectly aligned with the current planetary transits, or simply that she had sent out so many resumes beforehand that the responses all arrived in a cluster once her luck turned.
Shortly after, they sent another message:
[I’ll be honest with you. While I’m very accurate with astrology, I’m a firm believer in Marxism.]
Zhou Qiang: “…”
After reading the message, Zhou Qiang had an epiphany.
Most people suspect fortune-tellers of being scammers, but here she was being suspected of not being in her right mind—and getting a lecture about not succumbing to feudal superstitions.
She found it both frustrating and amusing but couldn’t get angry at the astrologer. After all, they weren’t wrong!
[I can prove I’m an adult, but how do I prove I’m clear-headed? Should I get a certificate from the hospital?]
[I am Qin Shi Huang. I never died. I have 30,000 tons of gold and 3 million Qin soldiers in Xi’an. If you transfer 20,000 yuan to xxxxxxxxx to send me home, I’ll let you command the army!]
[… Are you insane? How do you have 27,000 tons more gold than the usual internet scammers?]
[Congratulations! You’ve proven you’re clear-headed. If you’re going to dream, dream big.]
[…]
Zhou Qiang, who had initially been overly excited, gradually calmed down after this series of exchanges. She could now look at her situation rationally. She sent over proof that she was an adult by redacting sensitive information from her student profile and then explained her situation.
The astrologer suggested a voice call to facilitate the discussion.
Zhou Qiang agreed and added their business account. When the call connected, she immediately recognized the voice from the video.
“You’re hesitating about which one to choose, right?”
“Yes,” Zhou Qiang responded quickly. “The main issue is the conflicting interview times. If I pick one to attend and it doesn’t work out, I’ll lose the other opportunities…”
“I see. Tell me about the four positions, and we’ll use a four-option tarot spread to make the choice.”
Hearing the sound of shuffling cards through the phone, Zhou Qiang curiously asked, “Does this show the outcomes for each job?”
Zhou Qiang had watched plenty of divination videos and was somewhat familiar with tarot spreads. The choice spread typically starts with the current situation and then branches into four paths, showing the consequences and future developments of each option.
“Exactly. You can randomly give me some numbers. After drawing the cards, I’ll send you a photo of the spread and explain it.”
Zhou Qiang followed the instructions and soon received a picture of the cards arranged in four columns, with a single card at the base representing the current situation. The layout resembled a tree trunk with branches.
“The current situation card is the reversed Queen of Swords,” the astrologer explained. “It shows that you want to improve and move forward but are very anxious, constantly doubting your abilities and feeling trapped by past failures. This card advises you to think deeply and regain your composure to achieve success.”
Zhou Qiang paused and said, “Yes, I didn’t get any interview invitations for a while, and I was in a terrible state—just completely down…”
The fortune-teller replied nonchalantly, “Mhm, treating my video like it’s some magical prayer does sound very anxious.”
Zhou Qiang protested, “…Hey! We just verified that I’m a clear-headed adult!”
She felt the fortune-teller’s demeanor was a strange mix of seriousness and goofiness, far from the mysterious and wise vibe one might expect from a “master.”
“The first job has the upright Tower and reversed Ace of Pentacles. Together, these cards suggest a lack of money. You can attend the interview for practice and inquire about the future salary, but the outcome probably won’t be great,” the fortune-teller said.
Zhou Qiang sighed, “Oh, I think I’ve heard that from a senior—they said the company doesn’t pay well…”
“The fourth job has the Four of Pentacles and reversed Three of Wands. You might get stable income, but there’s little room for growth. You may regret this choice in the future.”
Zhou Qiang replied, “That’s the one my roommate recommended. She said it’s okay for earning money but doesn’t have much upward potential.”
“Alright, let’s focus on the remaining two jobs. The second one has the Devil and Ten of Pentacles, and the third one has Justice and Six of Wands. Both have their merits when it comes to career prospects.”
The fortune-teller laughed. “People are always scared of the Devil card, but in the context of work, it’s not bad. It points directly to worldly desires, which means money.”
“If you get this job, you won’t lack money, but the interview and work itself will be very stressful. You might feel like you’re not good enough, but you’ll ultimately succeed. You’ll have material wealth but might feel spiritually unfulfilled.”
Zhou Qiang hesitated, “The second one is an interview with a major corporation. I do feel like my resume isn’t quite up to par.”
She had only shared the job types with the fortune-teller and hadn’t mentioned any company names. Logically, there was no way they could guess it was a major corporation. She lacked confidence in this interview because the requirements were so high, but the salary was also very attractive.
“Then you’ll need to prepare as hard as you can. I’m guessing the interview won’t be easy,” the fortune-teller continued. “As for the third job, the Justice card represents your past efforts being fairly rewarded. Paired with the Six of Wands, this job might not pay as much as the second one, but it will bring you a sense of success. You’ll feel confident and satisfied knowing your hard work led to promotions.”
“I really like the third company,” Zhou Qiang admitted eagerly. “So which one should I choose? Is the second or third better?”
The fortune-teller replied calmly, “That depends on you. I can’t make the choice for you.”
“Huh?”
“If you like money, pick the second one. If you value a sense of accomplishment, pick the third one. The key is your own priorities.”
The fortune-teller added, “I can summarize this spread for you. It shows that all the good outcomes come from your prior efforts, not from some magical influence of a divination video. You’re not as bad as you think.”
Zhou Qiang immediately covered her mouth, on the verge of tears. “Wow, that really hit me… I might actually cry.”
Lately, Zhou Qiang had been doubting her self-worth. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been desperate enough to seek out a fortune-teller. It was the darkness of the past weeks that had driven her to this point.
She couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong. She had put in effort, so why had her resumes seemed to vanish into a void?
Watching divination videos had been her way of coping with a tough life, seeking a little sweetness to carry her through.
She had been freezing in the cold and desperately searching for a spark.
“Whether what you’re saying is true or just meant to encourage me…” Zhou Qiang said softly, after calming her emotions, “I really appreciate it.”
The fortune-teller replied, “Of course it’s true. I’m a Marxist, and seeking truth from facts is the essence of Marxism.”
Zhou Qiang: “…You don’t need to emphasize that so much. I’m starting to think your fortune-telling is some kind of sting operation targeting feudal superstitions.”
Zhou Qiang felt the fortune-teller was unique.
Most fortune-tellers worry their clients won’t believe them. This one, however, seemed more concerned about clients believing too much, practically handing out Marxist philosophy lessons on the spot.
Zhou Qiang tentatively asked, “Can I ask how long it would take for me to surpass the second job’s income if I chose the third job?”
“One moment, let me check… At least three years. It depends on your efforts.”
“Oh, that’s quite a while,” Zhou Qiang said with a laugh. “Do you guys expect feedback from your readings? I could check back with you in three years.”
“Three years?” The fortune-teller paused for a rare moment of silence. “…Sure, why not.”
Zhou Qiang suddenly had an idea and asked, “By the way, don’t fortune-tellers usually sell charms or crystals for good fortune? Do you offer anything like that?”
The fortune-teller sighed. “I don’t sell products or perform rituals. You’re an adult—why not just buy a Magical Girl Wand for yourself?”
Zhou Qiang: “…” Wow, she was just trying to support their business, and now she was being mocked.
Zhou Qiang found the unknown fortune-teller quite likable. She didn’t believe in luck crystals either—she just wanted to help the fortune-teller earn some extra income. In the end, she only paid for the reading and was repeatedly reminded not to rely too much on fortune-telling.
“Do I really seem like someone who’d be fooled by superstition?” Zhou Qiang muttered. “I swear, what I told you wasn’t a made-up story—it actually happened!”
She really did receive four messages after watching a single video, but the fortune-teller insisted it was just a coincidence.
The fortune-teller replied, “Alright, if there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up. I need to prepare for my afternoon class.”
Zhou Qiang: “?”
“Wait, are you a college student?” she asked, confused.
Zhou Qiang thought the fortune-teller spoke with a certain level of maturity. Given their concern about her going astray, she assumed they must have some life experience. She hadn’t expected them to still be a student.
The fortune-teller replied, “No, I’m a high school student.”
Zhou Qiang: “???”
Zhou Qiang burst out laughing. “You, a minor, made me, an adult, prove I wasn’t a minor?!”
After all, the fortune-teller was the one who would still be blocked by anti-addiction systems in games like Honor of Kings!
Chu Qianli hesitated and said, “Ah, well… It’s just that you seemed so impulsive, it really didn’t feel like you were an adult…”
After listening to Zhou Qiang’s story, Chu Qianli felt she wasn’t being very rational.
Zhou Qiang felt deeply attacked.
She had been lectured by a younger fortune-teller who even suggested buying her a Balala the Fairies wand. The more she thought about it, the more cringe-worthy it felt—like she could dig a magical castle out of the ground with her toes from sheer embarrassment.
Flustered and annoyed, Zhou Qiang snapped, “Call me ‘sister’! I’m a few years older than you. You should call me ‘sister’!”
She wasn’t actually angry. The fortune-teller had helped solve her problem, but the situation left her feeling a little ashamed.
Chu Qianli: “?”
Chu Qianli responded obediently, “Goodbye, sister. Don’t go around seeking random divinations anymore. You’ll never guess which little rascal is behind the screen.”
With that, Chu Qianli hung up the call.
Zhou Qiang: “…………”
![Dissatisfied [e-sports]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/4997572.jpg "Dissatisfied [e-sports]")
😂😂😂😂