Jiang Yuwei smirked inwardly.
The Li family’s circumstances were far from ideal, so she had no reason to fear being overshadowed by Li Qiao. “Mom,” Jiang Yuwei said, “ask the school for another extended leave. I need to recover fully before returning.”
“Anything for you,” Aunt Li replied without hesitation. How could she bear to send her precious daughter back to class while injured? After all, her daughter ranked among the top students at Beijing’s No. 6 High School—a short delay wouldn’t hurt.
Since He Jingnian’s lavish gifts arrived the previous night, both the Shen and Su families had sent over school admission offers.
Three enrollment letters now lay spread out before Li Qiao. She scanned them and cheered, “Ancestral Master, look at this popularity! Not bad, huh?”
The ancestral tablet toppled over with a thud—then righted itself.
“You agree I’m thriving, don’t you? Don’t worry, once I expand further, I’ll rebuild our Xiangyun Temple. Your incense offerings will multiply! I’ll keep striving for our shared vision!”
Her ambitions burned bright.
Stretching lazily, Li Qiao pulled back the curtains and spotted He Jingnian in the distance. Seated in the teahouse, their eyes met across the way.
So much virtue karma! Li Qiao nearly drooled with envy.
To her, He Jingnian was a gourmet feast—visible yet untouchable.
After waving at him, she headed out to set up her fortune-telling stall under the overpass.
The moment she arrived, neighboring vendors smirked. “Out of pocket money again, little girl?”
“Tsk, youngsters these days think they can dabble in our trade after skimming a few books. Easy money? The waters run deeper than they know!”
“Sweetheart, if you’re desperate for cash, just marry rich. At least you’ll get a dowry.”
Their condescension dripped with disdain.
Li Qiao smiled sweetly. “I’ve heard only failed men attack women over dowries. They pretend to reign supreme, yet remain worthless sacks.”
The barb struck a nerve.
“Sharp tongue, bitter fate,” one spat.
“Pretty face, empty head,” another sneered.
…
These rotten old men reeked of ill intent. *Fortune-tellers? More like walking bad luck charms.*
Studying their faces, Li Qiao’s mood lifted. “Your misdeeds have summoned a storm of misfortune—fatal or crippling. Tread carefully!”
Ignoring their murderous glares, she laid out her “One Reading Per Day” sign.
Perhaps due to her youth, passersby flocked to the older vendors, who shot her triumphant looks.
Pathetic.
Rolling her eyes, Li Qiao scrolled through her phone—until Li Man’s latest post popped up:
[Hearts turn to the sun; one day I’ll soar. Unlike some, born with silver spoons yet doomed to struggle. Without worthy heirs, family fortunes crumble—destined for others’ hands.]
Gag.
Li Qiao sipped her goji berry water.
The jab was obvious. Since Li Man wanted a reaction, why disappoint?
She commented: *#HustleQueen, future self-made billionaire~*
Li Man instantly replied: Don’t gloat. The day will come when you grovel beneath my feet.
Such hatred.
The overpass bustled with crowds—yet no clients approached Li Qiao’s stall.
“Shaoyang, relax! This venture will pay off. If you doubt me, let’s get a reading.”
*”No thanks. I don’t believe in this hocus-pocus,”* Li Shaoyang grumbled. His luck was rotten, but surely it’d turn someday.
“Look—that girl’s stunning, and she’s free. Let’s try her.”
Dragged over, Li Shaoyang frowned at Li Qiao—then froze.
That face…
It mirrored his mother’s youth.
…A secret love child?!
“One reading per day,” Li Qiao said. “Scan here—500 per session.”
Wei Ting raised a brow. “Steep price for a scam, kid.”
“Transparent pricing,” she countered, indifferent. Pay or leave.
“Fine, 500 it is.” After the payment *cha-chinged*, her smile warmed. “Who’s the subject? And the query?”
Their jaws dropped at her whiplash hospitality.
Money talks.
“Shaoyang’s turn. Will our deal succeed?”
Li Shaoyang’s scowl deepened. Handsome as he was, black misery clung to him like a curse.
Li Qiao had never seen such a luckless soul—a true magnet for calamity.
Her gaze turned pitying.
“Reading his face or ogling him?” Wei Ting teased. “Don’t bother—he’s not into women.”
“Shut it!” Li Shaoyang massaged his temples.
Li Qiao’s eyes sparkled with revelation. Not into women? So…
Her suggestive once-over made him snap: “I’m straight, you brat!”
“Sure~”
Li Shaoyang: …I want to punch those smug dimples.
“No need for the reading,” Li Qiao declared. “You’re cursed with eternal misfortune. Nothing will help.”
Both men stiffened.
“Next you’ll say, ‘Pay me to lift the curse!’ or peddle ‘lucky talismans,’ right?” Li Shaoyang mocked.
Li Qiao brightened. *”You do know the drill! I do sell fortune-changing charms—”*
“Wei Ting, we’re leaving. That 500 just burned a hole in hell.”
Wei Ting hesitated. “Master, how much for the charm?”
“Stay if you want. I’m gone.”
“Wait up!”
As they stormed off, Li Qiao sighed.
Her second brother—the “Investment Grim Reaper”—was a fascinating case.
How does someone attract this much bad luck?
She’d need to study him closely.
Nearby, a male vendor gloated: “500 per scam? Highway robbery. Only fools fall for it.”
“Karma’s harsh on greedy swindlers,” Li Qiao sang. “Especially those with dirty money~”
Their faces darkened.
Packing up after her sole reading, Li Qiao grabbed her thermos and left.
Behind her, “Master Mao” scoffed: “Blathering fraud.”
CRASH!
A truck plowed straight into his stall—sending him flying.
