I'm Really Going to Become an Immortal

This made Qing Yuan, who could also say a couple of sweet nothings and pretend to tell fortunes, curiously stop in his tracks.

Oh ho, running into a fellow tradesman?

Thinking thus, he grew curious about how his peer would perform, and what sort of comforting words he would use.

After all, as everyone knows,

Fortune-telling is merely a profession of saying nice things.

Who really knows their fate? All you get is a high EQ, good-looking guy who says what you want to hear.

If Qing Yuan realized this guy was just saying nice things to make people happy and earn a hard buck, then there was nothing to it.

But if he was a scam artist, then he would immediately call the police.

However, after stopping and watching for a while,

Qing Yuan noticed something a bit unusual about this guy’s routine.

Or perhaps it should be described as...