Chapter 1 Are you...stealing life?
"Are you...stealing a living?"
"No, no, I am a prophet of metaphysics."
At the corner of Qingcheng Park in Qinghai City, Feng Zhibai was hunched over and talking to an elderly man wearing an old man's shirt.
The reason why she appeared here started three days ago.
Three days ago, she was sound asleep in her wooden house on Qingshantou, but with a bang, her nest was blown up by a group of later generations! Along with it, she, the prophet of metaphysics, was blown out.
She originally wanted to make a fortune and earn some money to support herself before going down the mountain to make a living, but before she could even take a firm step, she discovered that the later generations had bloody and ferocious looks on their faces!
As the only prophetic spirit in the world, Feng Zhibai adhered to the principle that justice will come to those who are disgraced, and was forced to make the choice to slip away immediately!
Fortunately, the last wishing bird in the mountain helped her to catch up on some worldly knowledge, otherwise she would have had no choice but to beg on the roadside after coming down the mountain.
How disgraceful it is for the former Lord Jiantian of the dignified Xingyue Hall to beg for a living on the street!
"Are you sure the prophet isn't a fortune teller?"
Old Mitou took out the yellow cloth for fortune-telling from his bag and spread it on the ground. When he heard the girl in front of him say that she was a metaphysical prophet, he stopped what he was doing.
He looked up at her.
She suddenly appeared, dressed strangely, dirty, and spoke in a weird way. I don't know which poor girl she was who wandered to Qinghai City and came here to cheat people for a living.
Feeling Lao Mitou's gaze, Feng Zhibai showed his big white teeth in a friendly manner, while also carefully looking at his face.
The old man had a simple and honest face, with a smile in his eyes and a golden light between his eyebrows. He was a practitioner of the Taoist sect. It was a pity that the golden light between his eyebrows only lasted for a few seconds before disappearing.
The golden light condenses at the center of the eyebrows and does not disperse, indicating that this person is born with a good physique for practicing Taoism.
If the golden light condenses and then disperses, it means that the source of Tao exists but is not deep.
In other words, a half-baked one.
I can tell fortunes but I can’t interpret them, I can read Feng Shui but I can’t break the bad luck!
Even if it can resolve the hexagram and break the evil, it will not be enough.
And the fellow colleague in front of her is a typical dilettante!
"The world is one, and even though there are similarities, there are also differences. Fortune-telling can predict the world's affairs, big and small, but it can't predict the fate of heaven and earth. It can't be a prophet, and it also has to adhere to the five disadvantages and three flaws, and the secrets of heaven cannot be revealed! But I am a prophet, I know the heavens, the earth, people, things, and even my past, future, and present lives! Most importantly! I don't have the five disadvantages and three flaws, and I don't have the secrets of heaven that cannot be revealed! What do you think? Am I amazing?"
Feng Zhibai put his hands in his folds like an old lady, looking mysterious.
Old Mitou chuckled and placed the copper coin used for divination on the yellow cloth with the fortune-telling words written on it. After a pause of more than ten seconds, he hesitantly asked, "Girl, which courtyard did you come from? When you sneaked out, did you have anything on you that could prove which courtyard you lived in?"
"Hmm? What hospital?"
Feng Zhibai's expression was confused. She didn't understand. Which courtyard was which?
"It's so pitiful. He's so young but his brain and ears aren't working well."
Seeing her like this, Lao Mi looked sympathetic and shook his head with great regret.
Feeling that what he said was not good, Feng Zhibai moved to another place: "No, I am..."
"Who is Mi Banxian?"
Just as he was about to explain to him, a cold questioning voice interrupted Feng Zhibai's words.
They both looked up at the same time in the direction of the sound.
The woman in front of him was wearing a suit and a short skirt. She was in her twenties but exuded a mature and capable aura.
"Who is Mi Banxian?"
Seeing no one answer, the woman asked again, her tone full of obvious impatience.
In the park, the old men and women who were watching the show were fanning themselves, and no one dared to say anything.
Feng Zhibai sat next to Lao Mitou, looking Yuan Haonan back and forth, his eyes also fell on her long, straight and white legs!
Her eyes widened involuntarily, and she shyly raised her hand to poke the silent old man beside her: "Xiaomi, is he calling you?"
"No! Don't talk!"
Old Mitou shouted in a low voice, and silently reached out to pull back the yellow cloth used for fortune-telling in front of him.
Yuan Haonan lifted his hair, and his eyes under his sunglasses glanced around with disgust, and soon fell on a spot not far in front of him.
Under the shade of the tree was a little girl in strange and dirty clothes and an old man in a short-sleeved shirt.
The old man was holding a piece of yellow cloth in his hand, and the folds of the cloth revealed the words "fortune-telling".
"Hmph." She chuckled, crossed her arms, and strode towards the shade of the tree. Before she even reached it, she spoke accurately to Old Mitou, "My chairman wants to pay Mi Banxian for a fortune-telling."
Old Mitou had not intended to pay any attention, but since she was already in front of him, he could only pull the yellow cloth and stand up, looking embarrassed and apologetic: "Miss, I'm really sorry, today's fortune telling is not counted."
There is no rule that fortune tellers can tell a certain number of hexagrams in a day. A more successful fortune teller can tell dozens of hexagrams a day.
However, fortune-telling is time-consuming and energy-consuming, and if one's luck is not so good, fortune-tellers who are particularly talented or who do not want to do too much fortune-telling will set a rule for themselves to tell a few fortunes a day.
Hearing that the fortune was full, Yuan Haonan continued calmly, "My chairman has told me that money is not a problem, as long as you, the Half Immortal, are willing to calculate it."
"It's not about money." Old Mitou chuckled. "Excuse me, who is your chairman? What are you trying to calculate?"
"Chairman Jin Feng of the Dali Chu Miracle Tourism Development Group would like to ask you, the Half Immortal, to help with the matter at Qingshantou."
As soon as Yuan Haonan finished speaking, the palm-leaf fan in Lao Mitou's hand stopped. Feng Zhibai, who was sitting next to him, darkened his eyes, and his mind, which had been attracted by the beauty, came back instantly.
Qingshantou was exactly where her wooden house was bombed before!
When she went down the mountain, she saw the descendants who had blown up her nest with murderous looks on their faces. Could it be that those descendants were under the command of this powerful organization?
If so, then it was truly fate that brought them together.
"Miss, did Chairman Jin Feng invite the wrong person?"
Old Mitou asked hesitantly.
Dali Group is a leading enterprise in Qinghai City.
As the saying goes: the richer you are, the more superstitious you are.
The Jinfeng family is extremely wealthy, so there's no reason for them to have no trustworthy Feng Shui masters or other talented people around them. So why would they inexplicably ask him, a street fortune teller, to help them?
Moreover, he had heard some things about Qingshantou, which was not something that a fortune teller like him with only mediocre skills could solve.
"You've invited the right person, Mi Banxian from Qingcheng Park. Please come with us."
Yuan Haonan was completely impatient. His brows were furrowed in displeasure under his sunglasses. He turned around and gestured in the direction of the car, not taking the old man's divination to heart at all.
Old Mitou raised his hand and waved it at Yuan Haonan reluctantly, "I just said that today's fortune telling is not possible, and I have a girl to take to the hospital, so I really don't have time."
He looked down at Feng Zhibai beside him.
Feng Zhibai also cooperated with Lao Mitou and raised her chin. When she was about to smile at Yuan Haonan, she found that he was not looking at her at all.
She changed her expression, put her hands in her pockets and moved to the side.
She doesn't care about other people's opinions!
It’s not that Yuan Haonan didn’t look, but after glancing at Feng Zhibai, he looked away with extreme disdain.
"If Mi Banxian doesn't give us face, then we can only apologize."
She pushed up her sunglasses and her voice became much deeper. She raised her hands and clapped three times. Soon, two bodyguards in black suits hurried down from the black car behind her.
When the people around saw this, they walked out of the park on their crutches, pointing and talking, fearing that they would get into big trouble.
Old Mitou was still holding the yellow cloth in his hand. When he saw the bodyguard rushing towards him aggressively, his legs became unstable and his whole body fell backwards!
Feng Zhibai was sitting behind him, and he quickly reached out and held him back!
Fortunately, it almost hit her thin little body!
Old Mitou felt dizzy and thought he was about to fall to the ground, but a pair of hands caught him steadily.
He wanted to look down, but Yuan Haonan pressed on: "Mi Banxian, please."
His face looked very ugly. He stood up by holding the flower bed and was thinking about how to get out. However, his eyes involuntarily fell on Feng Zhibai.
"What are you looking at me doing?"
Seeing that Old Mitou was suddenly staring at him, Feng Zhibai quickly stretched out his hands to protect his upper body and shouted anxiously: "You are still young, we are not suitable!"
"Bah! You're dreaming!" He lowered his head hastily, his voice tense. "Are you not mentally ill? Are you really from the same sect as me? Are you not lying to me?"
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