Once again, he pinched and formed a seal with his right hand, all the while commenting, “Those born in the months of Mao and Si often lose wealth, while those born in the hours of Wei and Chou tend to accumulate it. If you’re born under Si and Chou, you’re naturally able to hold onto money. Young Foster, your fate palace is high and prominent, born with the appearance of wealth and nobility. But you just happen to be born at the intersection of gathering, losing, and keeping wealth. That’s why I say your fortune is full of twists and turns. In modern terms, your financial trajectory is just like... just like the ups and downs of stock indices and the market curve…”

As he spoke and gestured, his slender index finger traced a curve in front of Fat Foster’s eyes. Fat Foster’s eyeballs followed that finger, listening to the fortune-telling. Whether it touched a sore spot or hit home, his throat let out a few grunts, his jaw trembled a few times, and his lips shivered. As the old man finished tracing with his finger, he suddenly changed tone and let out a long sigh: “Ah… Young Foster, your luck is down, when wealth should gather it disperses, your fortune flows like streams converging into a river, and it comes so fiercely, tsk tsk tsk… your eyes are glowing green, which matches this sign of losing wealth, and this time, the loss is no small matter.”

The old man spoke with rich expression, and after a while, he had convinced the previously skeptical Fat Foster completely. This time, it seemed to have struck a nerve. When the old man reached this point, Fat Foster’s face immediately showed a look of misery. He slapped his thigh and grabbed the old man, saying, “Oh wow… that’s spot on. Amazing, old master, you even figured out that I, David Foster, took a hit in the stock market.”

“Ah, let it be, let it be. Young Foster, around your forties, your fate clashes with the stars, impacting your wealth. I’ll waive today’s fortune-telling fee. Try to look on the bright side—sometimes losing money to avert disaster isn’t necessarily a bad thing…” Old Sullivan held Fat Foster’s hand and comforted him with great poise.

“No, no… I’m not short on money. The cow is gone, who cares how much the cowbell is worth?” Fat Foster was quite generous. Saying he wasn’t short on money, then mentioning the loss of the cow, again touched a sore spot. He slapped his thigh so hard it echoed, holding the fortune-teller’s hand and lamenting, “Old master, as soon as I entered the park today, I started hiccupping, everything was green, just like the color of the trading floor screens, a whole screen of green, a crash… I’d rather wear a green hat than see this green every day… Old master, give me some advice, most of my assets are stuck now, is there a way out?… I can see it, with your skills, old master, you can do it. Pick a stock for me, I’ll raise the money… you’ll definitely get your share…”

“No, no, no, different trades are like different mountains. Trust me, Young Man, in the stock market, there are only mortals who lose money, no immortals who always win. I really can’t help with this…”

He stopped abruptly, as the old man withdrew his hand and slowly stood up, showing an attitude of helplessness toward the chattering Fat Foster. But seeing those expectant eyes, he seemed a bit reluctant, stood up but hesitated to leave. The three fat men and the attendant all looked at the suddenly silent Old Sullivan in confusion, thinking he was putting on airs and hurried to stop him. But the old man just sighed sympathetically, patted Fat Foster’s broad shoulder, and comforted him:

“Time cannot be reversed, who can change fate… I really can’t help you with this. But your fate palace is high and prominent, destined for wealth and riches. Once you get past this hurdle, the road ahead will be much smoother… Within ten years, you will surely become very wealthy. How about it, Young Foster, let’s leave it at that for today. I, Ethan Sullivan, rarely say this much when reading fortunes for others. Today, I said more because we’re fated to meet, but some things can only be hinted at. With your wealthy fate, you’ll get through these minor bumps… Others who tell fortunes only speak of good things in the future, but I can see your past. At a glance, you’re someone with a unique destiny, born at the right time. To put it plainly, you suffered in childhood, worked hard in youth, achieved success in your prime, built everything from scratch, and after all these ups and downs, at your age, you don’t need to pray to gods or seek immortals—you’ll get through it…”

These few lines were full of dramatic ups and downs, and the old man’s expressions made them feel very real. When he said he couldn’t help, Fat Foster looked quite disappointed. At this point, he seemed to fully believe in this seemingly sage-like old man. Hearing that he would surely become wealthy within ten years brought him some comfort. Not only Fat Foster, but his companions also seemed relieved. The last sentence made Fat Foster feel a bit proud, and with his two companions cheering him on, saying this was nothing for Mr. Foster, the previously heavy atmosphere gradually relaxed.

The fortune-telling old man smiled as he spoke, waved his hand, and walked away with his hands behind his back. The young onlookers saw that the old man didn’t even take the fortune-telling fee and were even more puzzled, watching his departing figure, which seemed almost untouched by dust. But, are there really such people these days? The young man felt a hiccup in his gut—look, he doesn’t even care about money. This style must be the virtue of some recluse. If that’s the case, maybe he really is a hidden master.

Just as he was thinking this, the sidekick hurriedly went up to pull the still-pensive Fat Foster, signaling that the old man had left. Fat Foster, still unwilling to give up, called out loudly, “Old master, then what should I do now?”

“I’ll give you a word of advice.” The old man turned back with a smile, his voice fading as he walked away, but the words he left behind were clear: “A hero cuts off his own wrist.”