Chapter Seven: The Iron-Tongued Oracle Outshines the Half-Immortal

A poem, a drink, a world of wanderers. A flag, a table, a fortune-telling stall.

Ten fortune-tellers, nine are frauds—Master Liaochen surely belongs to the one honest exception.

Today was a rare day for the town market, and Master Liaochen had risen early to claim a spot beneath a grand elm tree not far from the temple gates. He set out his table, hoisted a banner that read: “Words as iron, fate revealed; fee depends on your face.”

The sun had just shown itself, and the streets teemed with throngs of buyers, sellers, and wanderers, all bustling with lively chatter. Liaochen’s fortune-telling banner stood out, drawing the eye, but perhaps because he looked too young, the crowd regarded him as one might a young doctor—people trusted those of greater age. So far, many had glanced at him, but none had come to seek his services. Liaochen was in no hurry, sitting leisurely in his chair, watching the ebb and flow of the crowd with interest.

“Hey, fortune-teller. Did you pay your space fee?” A group of rough-looking men, street enforcers, came collecting down the row and stopped at his stall.

“No,” Liaochen replied honestly. Monks do not speak falsehoods, and neither do Daoist priests.

“All right, since you’re honest, forty coins for the space.” The leader stretched out his hand.

Liaochen remained unmoved. He glanced at the gangster before him and said slowly, “If I were you, I wouldn’t be collecting money here right now. I see dark energy on your face, blood in your brow—if you don’t hurry away and hide, you’ll meet with disaster.”

“Ha! Rotten fortune-teller, refusing to pay and daring to curse me, your Fourth Lord, first thing in the morning? Don’t you know no one on this street dares cross me?” The gangster, known as Fourth Li, rolled up his sleeves, and his cronies, clearly excited, closed in, ready to smash up the stall. The market-goers gathered eagerly, forming circles to watch the spectacle. Everyone knew this rookie was about to come to grief—no one dared mess with Fourth Li.

Liaochen paid no heed to this lord or that boss. He calmly raised four fingers. Fourth Li was puzzled and was about to ask, when Liaochen bent down one finger, then another. When all four fingers were folded, Liaochen shook his head and said, “It’s time.” Just as everyone was wondering what he meant, several constables pushed through the crowd, shouting, “Fourth Li, you’re wanted for a capital crime—our master summons you to the magistrate’s office.” Without further ado, they chained up Fourth Li and marched him away.

The crowd gasped in astonishment.

“Here! Come, see my fortune, see mine!” The crowd surged forward in a frenzy toward the stall. Liaochen saw trouble brewing and called out in a loud voice, “Line up, one at a time! Today’s opening—twenty fortunes, ten each day after, until they’re done.” Seeing the crowd’s size, he dared not reveal too much; to disclose heavenly secrets is to invite retribution, but ten or twenty fortunes were safe enough.

After much commotion, the crowd calmed. Those who had acted on impulse stepped aside to watch others and judge the accuracy. Those with true need lined up for their turn.

The first to sit opposite Liaochen was a middle-aged man, dressed as a farmer, clearly just in from the countryside. Without waiting for the man’s question, Liaochen said, “Your wife is fine, just suffering from morning sickness. Go home and see a doctor.” The man was overjoyed, but did not leave immediately. Liaochen continued, “It’s a daughter.” The man’s face fell. “But your daughter’s fate is blessed with wealth and happiness. Treat her well—otherwise, you’ll lose both her and your fortune.” The man now smiled again. Wanting more, he was stopped by Liaochen shaking his head. “Ten coins, please,” Liaochen said, and said no more. The man could only obey, placing ten coins on the table respectfully before leaving, his steps growing lighter as he walked, evidently reconciled.

The second was clearly a well-off young woman. Liaochen smiled and said, “You should be seeing a doctor, not me.”

“Oh!” The young woman was startled—she hadn’t spoken yet. “But I’ve seen many doctors and taken medicines, none of it helps.”

“It’s not you who needs a doctor—it’s your husband,” Liaochen replied. The crowd burst into laughter, obviously understanding the situation.

The woman was mortified.

“Twenty coins, please,” Liaochen said bluntly.

“Oh, all right. Thank you.” Though embarrassed, she exhaled in relief. Clearly, the issue had weighed on her mind; she paid without questioning why her fee differed from the man before, then left, her demeanor visibly relaxed.

“Alas, your marriage bond is ended. Send him off well for his final journey. No fee for this reading,” Liaochen said, shaking his head with a sigh as he watched the woman leave in tears. Life and death, separation—how helplessly ordained by fate!

“Success comes only through diligence. Go home and work hard for a few years, then we’ll see.”

“Oh, not bad—harmonious marriage, blessed with children. Thank you, ten coins.”

One after another, nineteen fortunes were told, and the crowd was clearly awed. Words as iron, fate revealed—no falsehoods here. Seeing the readings were almost complete, everyone competed for the last spot. But Liaochen ceased his readings, packing up his stall. The crowd protested, “There’ve only been nineteen! You promised twenty!”

Liaochen replied, “Fourth Li counted as one,” and squeezed through the crowd, departing at leisure. No one dared stop him—a master so accurate must be respected. They could only regret not arriving earlier.

Little did they know, Liaochen was pondering to himself, “How much longer must I wait to catch the big fish?”