The young man, who had no intention of joining the commotion, was facing the lake, his mind replaying the scene of that fake immortal old man getting beaten up—at the very least, he was sure the guy would get slapped a few times. Suddenly, just as he turned around, there was a loud “bang.” The young man jumped in shock—had the fight already started!? He quickly turned back in surprise...

Huh? Nothing happened? No fight?

Surprises are everywhere. David Foster didn’t hit anyone; instead, he slammed hard against the back of the bench, his expression stern as he gave the fortune-telling old man a big thumbs-up, his thick lips smacking: “Impressive, impressive. If my buddies hadn’t been looking for you for days, we wouldn’t even know you. I really wouldn’t have believed it.”

Huh? He got it right? So Fat Foster’s mother really is gone!? Did he guess, or actually figure it out?

This time, the young onlooker was stunned, muttering to himself, growing more and more confused the longer he watched. Countless facts have proven that most people who like to show off are idiots, but among those pretending to be immortals, could there really be one or two who are the real deal!?

“Impressive... impressive...”

Equally surprised, Ralph Porter and the chubby guy called Old Roy also nodded, exchanging glances. Apparently, the old man’s accurate guess had startled them both. The three of them stared at the squinting, smiling old man, increasingly convinced by his immortal-like demeanor, as if it was only natural for a true immortal to display such mysterious abilities.

That’s right, he really did guess correctly. The fortune-seeking Fat Foster gripped the old man’s hand tightly, showing some belief, but still said, “Old Immortal, you even figured out that my mother is gone. What else do you know about my family?”

Unconsciously, he had switched from “you” to the more respectful “您,” indicating that most of his suspicion had faded. And by asking about family matters, the young man watching was secretly impressed. It seemed this chubby guy wasn’t just a fool, nor was he easily bluffed by a single sentence. By asking about private family affairs, he was probably testing the old man.

Fat Foster’s eager question didn’t bother the old man at all. He laughed heartily and said, “Everyone’s fortune is different, and each person’s fate is unique. For detailed things, I’d need to see your face and hands to read your fortune, but simple things are no problem. For example, I can tell how many siblings you have.”

“You can do that!? Then... please, tell me, how many siblings do I have?” Fat Foster asked, not quite believing, his expression serious.

“Hmm...” The old man pondered, his right hand forming a mystical gesture as if calculating again, his five fingers tapping quickly. That mysterious “heavenly communication” gesture appeared once more. Then, with a sudden opening of his eyes, he pronounced, “Your fate is deeply rooted, your palm lines branch out, showing the pattern of ‘Three sworn brothers in the Peach Garden, and a single plum blossom standing alone’... Am I right?”

As he spoke, he held up three fingers, then switched to one, stretching his hand out in front of Fat Foster, his fingers shifting between the two gestures.

“How... do I interpret that?” Fat Foster didn’t get it, pausing in confusion. The old man just smiled without answering, nodding to indicate, “You have to answer that. The answer is hidden in my words.”

Oh, so he’s being cryptic. But he’s dealing with someone who has more money than education—Fat Foster just couldn’t figure it out, and after a long pause, was too embarrassed to ask the old man again. He turned to Ralph Porter for help. Ralph Porter’s small eyes went wide, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer, blurting out, “Mr. Foster, you have three brothers, right?”

“Yeah, but I also have a younger sister?” Fat Foster was confused.

With a “smack,” Old Roy couldn’t hold back anymore, shouting as if he’d discovered a new continent, “I get it, your sister, Mr. Foster.”

“Your sister? What are you saying?” Fat Foster rolled his eyes at the phrase, since “your sister” had taken on a special meaning.

“No, no...” Old Roy quickly waved his hands to explain, “I mean, ‘Three sworn brothers in the Peach Garden’ means you have three brothers, Mr. Foster, and ‘a single plum blossom standing alone’ refers to your sister, right? Three plus one, that’s four. That’s spot on... Didn’t the old man just make the hand gestures? Three, then one—that’s your family...”

Old Roy counted on his big fingers, and sure enough, three plus one made sense. His explanation was even more vivid than the old man’s cryptic words.

“That’s right!?”

Fat Foster scratched his cheek, suddenly enlightened. When he looked back, he met the profound, smiling gaze of Old Charles Sullivan. Delighted, he was about to offer some compliments, but the old man waved his hand dismissively and changed the subject: “No need, no need. I can’t stand being called ‘Old Immortal.’ I’m only a few years older than you, and I’ve just studied the I Ching for a few years... Just call me Old Sullivan. As for you all, I can see you’re still hesitant to ask for a reading. Let’s save some time. I’ll ask directly: Young Foster, are you here to ask about your fortune?”

“This...” Another surprise—Fat Foster seemed to have been hit right on the mark. He looked back at his two companions, even more astonished, but this time he reacted quickly, simply nodding to confirm the old man’s words, and asked a bit nervously, “So... Old Immortal—uh, sir, what do you say about my fortune...?”

“Immortal” sounded too distant, so Fat Foster immediately switched to “sir,” making it sound much more intimate. By now, the young onlooker could see that, regardless of how the first two fortunes were figured out, the old man had definitely managed to impress these three.

“Let me read your fortune...”