"What's wrong? Is there a problem? Can't you figure it out?"
Jiang Siming asked nonchalantly.
"No, no problem. I can figure it out, I can."
The old man muttered to himself, "What does 'idiot' mean? What kind of word is that? I've never heard it before. It's strange, but it rolls off the tongue pretty well. Is he praising me?"
After staring at the two characters Jiang Siming had written for a while, he began pinching his fingers and calculating, muttering incomprehensible alien words.
After a while, he slapped his thigh and shouted, "Aiya! Young man, you really are destined to suffer a bloody disaster! If you can't survive this calamity, I'm afraid you'll lose your life!"
Jiang Siming chuckled. Looking into the old man's eyes, he said mysteriously, "Then do you believe that you're also about to suffer a bloody disaster?"
"Young man, I'm not making fun of you. To tell you the truth, this old Daoist studied physiognomy under the Qingyun Sect and learned it from Patriarch Qingyunzi. Do you know the Qingyun Sect? Oh, you probably don't. It's one of the foremost orthodox sects in Eastern Continent. Let me tell you—"
The old man began rambling on about his own abilities.
Jiang Siming had no interest in listening and interrupted him. "I know the Qingyun Sect. I'm quite familiar with it. Go on."
"If you know it, then that's good. You should believe that this old Daoist isn't lying to you, right?"
Jiang Siming nodded noncommittally. "I didn't lie to you either."
"Aiya, young man, why don't you believe me?"
The old man still wanted to continue persuading him, but someone suddenly rushed over from behind. The man raised his fist and punched the old man in the face.
With a cry of pain, the old man