Youling County lay beside the mighty Tongtian River. The people in the Civic District relied on the waters for a living, fishing in the river for generations. They were simple folk, content and at peace with their lives.
But the great river could be treacherous. For over ten years, many local fishermen had drowned, often caught by sudden storms or squalls rising over the waters.
Then one day, a fortune-teller suddenly appeared in Youling County. He set up a small stand on the long street, predicting the river’s winds and rains each day for the locals.
At first, the Civic District fishermen were doubtful. But as the man’s predictions came true time after time, their distrust vanished. And from that day on, deaths on the river dwindled each year. Funerals in the district became rare.
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It’s strange to say. Though the fortune-teller’s predictions were uncannily accurate, he would only announce when winds would stir and rains would fall. If anyone asked him for a fate reading, he always refused. Not a word escaped him.
After entering Youling County, Chen Changsheng headed straight for that long street.
There, a small stand held a simple wooden box. Beside it was a posted notice:
【Today, light fog clings to the river. At two quarters past the fifth hour, wind and waves shall rise. Heavy rain will follow. Approach the river at your peril.】
“Heavy rain… no fishing today,” sighed one.
“Is Master Zhong not coming?” asked another.
“Perhaps busy with something,” offered a third.
As they talked, several people stepped forward. Fumbling in their robes, they tossed a few copper coins into the box. Each clinked as it landed.
Clearly, the box was anything but empty.
No one eyed the box with greed. Indeed, more people kept stepping up, dropping coins inside.
Chen Changsheng stood nearby, watching. Amused, he turned to a young man among the onlookers. “Young brother, who exactly is this Master Zhong?”
The man stared blankly. “You’re a stranger here?”
The young man grinned. “No wonder. Nobody here knows Master Zhong. He predicts the heavens’ moods very precisely. Every day, he posts when the wind will blow and when the rain will fall—always spot on!”
“Such a remarkable person?” Chen Changsheng pressed, “Has he ever been wrong?”
The young man chuckled. “Master Zhong possesses divine abilities; how could he ever be wrong?”
Chen Changsheng nodded thoughtfully. Clearly, this Master Zhong enjoyed the people’s deep affection.
After the man left, Chen Changsheng lifted a hand and made a quick finger calculation.
His gaze settled on a tea stall not far off.
Sitting inside was a man in scholar’s robes. A pair of thin mustaches trailed down his face. He didn’t look old. He held a teacup, sipping lightly.
Zhong Zhengyuan suddenly sensed eyes upon him.
He looked up, spotting Chen Changsheng standing in the distance.
Zhong Zhengyuan faltered, his teacup freezing midway.
Chen Changsheng stepped forward, approaching the stall.
Zhong Zhengyuan collected himself and addressed the stall owner.
The owner was an old man, his back bent and his walk hesitant.
“Uncle Lin,” Zhong said, “could we trouble you for another cup? We have a guest.”
The stall keeper blinked. “A guest… for Master Zhong?”
Zhong Zhengyuan nodded solemnly. “A remarkably unusual guest.”
Fetching a fresh teacup and adding hot water to the pot, the man sat nearby.
The man in the blue robe drew closer.
He entered the stall and sat down directly.
Noticing the filled teacup already placed before him, Chen said with a nod, “Thank you, Master Zhong, for preparing tea for me.”
Zhong Zhengyuan shook his head. “I’m just a fortune-teller. Hardly worthy of the title ‘Master.'”
Chen Changsheng smiled faintly. “I, too, am often called ‘Gentleman.’ Yet truly, I possess neither great learning nor senior status. I merely seem the part.”
Zhong Zhengyuan chuckled. “With abilities like yours, Chen Changsheng, surely that title stems from something deeper than learning or age?”
“A thought applicable also to you, Master Zhong?”
The two men exchanged knowing smiles, eyes gleaming as if they’d found common ground.
Lightly stroking his mustache, Zhong murmured, “Indeed, indeed.”
He then asked quietly, “May I inquire where you’ve traveled from?”
Chen replied softly, “In the south of Jing Nan lies a place called Autumn Moon Market. I hail from there. And you, Master Zhong?”
Zhong Zhengyuan simply answered, “Sitting here, I am of this place.”
“Wandering within it,” Chen acknowledged, “that resonates.”
Not pushing further, he changed course. “By that stand just now, I heard tell that Master Zhong’s predictions never once miss the mark. Is this true?”
Zhong Zhengyuan considered. “Regarding the heavens’ moods? Truly, I cannot claim a single mistake.”
Chen hadn’t anticipated such unwavering confidence.
Now intrigued, he leaned in. “A coincidence? I possess some small skill in divination as well. Might Master Zhong be interested…?”
Zhong Zhengyuan’s eyes brightened sharply, as if this offer perfectly matched his hidden wish.
“A splendid proposition,” he declared instantly. “Shall we predict tomorrow’s weather?”
Chen Changsheng waved a dismissive hand. “Foretelling tomorrow? Lacks excitement. If I might suggest…”
He pierced Zhong with a sudden, direct gaze. “Let us predict what Heaven brings… today!”
Zhong Zhengyuan flinched.
His brow furrowed briefly, smoothed just as quickly.
Composure returned. He sipped tea calmly. “Today’s heavens… pose a formidable challenge.”
“The rising waters at two-quarters past the fifth hour, the onset of heavy rain… that timing, Master Zhong has already predicted,” Chen noted. “Let us instead predict when this rain will cease. What say you?”
Chen lifted his own cup, took a small sip. His eyes widened slightly. “Fine tea.”
Zhengyuan observed his serene counterpart, uncertainty flickering within. Yet… how could he pass up such a rare opportunity? He looked squarely at the man in the blue robe.
“So be it,” Zhong declared. “We predict when the rain stops.”
Chen murmured agreement. His head turned slightly towards the thickening clouds overhead.
Already, dusk had deepened. The fifth hour approached. Two quarters more, and the downpour would hit.
Turning back, he inquired politely, “Shall Master Zhong lead?”
Zhengyuan inclined his head. Producing three copper coins from his sleeve, he shook them in his palm twice.
Clatter, clatter. They landed upon the table. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ N()velFire.net
Studying them, Zhong Zhengyuan frowned. His fingers darted through swift calculations before he lifted his eyes.
“The heavens say: Wind and rain traverse five quarters here. Ceases upon the stroke of the seventh quarter past the fifth hour.”
Chen Changsheng lifted his own hand, fingers dancing like falling leaves. Barely a moment passed before pronouncement fell.
“An unlucky divergence, Master Zhong,” Chen announced coolly. “For my calculation… finds the rain ending precisely the time needed to drink one cup of tea earlier than yours.”
A flicker of puzzlement, swiftly masked, crossed Zhong Zhengyuan’s face. “Then… we shall see.”