“What do you mean?” Fat Foster stared blankly at his three companions, glancing around. It seemed that birds of a feather flock together—they were all guys who recognized money more than words. You look at me, I look at you, everyone shook their heads, all dumbfounded, completely unable to grasp the old immortal’s cryptic words.

After a while, still not getting it, the man by the lake couldn’t hold back any longer. Stifling his laughter, he finally blurted out, “Bro, the old man is telling you to cut your losses.”

That one sentence woke everyone up as if from a dream. The four of them instantly turned to look at the unremarkable young man. Fat Foster suddenly understood, smacking his forehead: “Right, right… cut your losses, right… dump the stocks, hurry up, sell everything as soon as the market opens, can’t hesitate anymore. If we get hit with a few more limit-downs, I’ll have to set up a stall in the park to make a living… Hey, wait… quick, Old Roy, go give the old man his fee, that old guy is no ordinary person… I’ve been thinking about cutting my losses for days, it’s time to make up my mind. The old man saw right through me.”

Muttering as he spoke, he remembered the old man who had drifted away. Fat Foster hurriedly pulled out his wallet, grabbed a few bills, and handed them to Old Roy to chase after the old man and give him as payment for the fortune-telling. The three of them, one in front and two behind, their plump figures staggered off, gradually disappearing behind the rockery and trees, heading straight out of the park, completely forgetting about the young man who had reminded them to cut their losses.

Ahead, in the distance, he saw Old Roy catch up to the fortune-teller, bowing respectfully—probably to present the payment.

Behind, the young man pondered over the whole fortune-telling episode with the three fat guys and the old man, first frowning, feeling a bit dizzy from it all. If you said the old man was a real immortal, it was hard to believe; but if you said he was a con artist, he really did get two fortunes right. He didn’t know them at all and yet could tell their parents and siblings—just that trick alone was enough to impress.

Did they know each other? Impossible, it must have been a chance encounter.

A plant? That didn’t make sense either, the old man was alone.

Having seen plenty of street performers and hustlers, the young man grew more and more puzzled as he walked a few steps. With all these tricks in the world, there’s always some sleight of hand involved. So what was the trick today? If he really had such skills, why not predict stocks or lottery numbers instead of scamming a few bucks off these fat guys? Wait, there was one thing he got right—the old man definitely knew the fat guys would pay him, so he never went far…

“Oh… so that’s it… no way, you can make money like this?…”

After a few steps, as if struck by inspiration, the young man suddenly understood, then looked astonished, and just then saw the four fat guys walking out of the park side by side. For some reason, he suddenly burst out laughing, laughing heartily and joyfully, leaning against a willow by the lake, covering his face with one hand, laughing harder and harder…

Chapter 04: Playing God, Spouting Nonsense

“This young man… may I ask your honorable name…”

A loud voice interrupted the young man who was amusing himself by the lake. Startled, he turned around to see the fortune-teller, with his immortal-like bearing, had somehow returned and was now standing not far behind him.

“You mean me?” The young man pointed at himself, a bit stunned, looking at the elegant old fortune-teller. Not sure what nerve was misfiring, he chuckled awkwardly for a while, then blurted out his usual self-introduction: “My surname is Shawn, single character Lawrence… Shawn as in ‘handsome guy’, Lawrence as in ‘bright and clear’.”

As soon as he introduced himself, the refined old man couldn’t help but smile. The main reason was that the young man in front of him was neither handsome nor bright. He was a bit short, had a buzz cut that looked a bit rustic, a very youthful face, not very old, and his outfit—a suit that was obviously from a street stall, wrinkled and unpressed—had nothing remarkable about it. Throw him into a crowd and he’d never stand out; at best, he’d look like a person among chickens, nothing more. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been ignored earlier.

The old man scrutinized him so seriously that Shawn Lawrence was startled and quickly explained, “Sir, I didn’t mess with your business, you already got the money, why’d you come back? I’m not with them.”

“Scam!?” The old man’s eyes narrowed, pausing for a moment. “Am I a scammer?”

His tone grew a bit harsher. Shawn Lawrence quickly covered his mouth, glanced around warily, and didn’t dare to answer.

Looking for what? Of course, to see if this guy had any accomplices. As the saying goes, thieves fear being blocked, scammers fear being exposed. The man was clearly a fortune-teller, but if you called him a scammer and his accomplices jumped out, you’d be asking for trouble.

Luckily, there was no one around, at least not nearby. Shawn Lawrence was a bit timid but bold, so he smiled and replied, “Not at all, not at all, please forgive my slip of the tongue. Stealing is not the same as scamming… haha… Why does that sound so awkward? Anyway, sir, please continue your business, I won’t disturb you.”

He tried to sound polite, even mimicking the old man’s refined tone, but when the old man said it, it sounded otherworldly; when Shawn Lawrence said it, it sounded like a guy who’d been castrated. How to put it? Just putting on airs.