The Fool, the World

With immense surprise and anticipation, someone blurted out his question: "Master, how can I make money quickly?"

Klein was pondering how to swindle the man across from him when he suddenly heard the question and nearly choked on his own saliva. If I knew that, would I need to tell your fortune?

"Ahem, ahem, ahem. Guest, your question is far too offensive. Money and wealth fall under the domain of the goddess Waukeen, while we fortune-tellers pursue the smile of the goddess Tyche."

"Oh, is that so?" The man's expression instantly turned cold, like a face-changing act from Sichuan opera. It was quite a marvel.

Since he was already here, Zhang Yuan still decided to ask about something. "Hey, you there, tell my fortune."

Even Klein, who had seen all kinds of things, was nearly angered to death. The man before him was far too practical—when there was money, he was "Master," but without money, he was "Hey, you."

Staring at the other man, the fortune-teller said, one word at a time, "That will be one silver coin."

Zhang Yuan was displeased. "Can't you make it cheaper?"

Seeing that Klein had simply closed his eyes, he reluctantly took out a silver coin and handed it over.

Klein snatched the silver coin away. A faint smile appeared on his face, though Zhang Yuan could not help feeling that it carried an ill-intentioned edge.

"So, what form of divination would you like to receive?"

"There are different forms? Can I choose several? Can you give me a package deal?" the shameless man asked.

Klein wished he could use the crystal ball beside him as a meteor hammer, but then he thought better of it. The crystal ball was worth more than one silver coin, and what if this fellow extorted him for medical expenses?

After considerable effort, he suppressed the impulse in his heart and said calmly, "Every method of divination leaves traces upon the river of fate. If multiple divination methods interfere with it at the same time, no one can guarantee that fate will not stray from its original course."

Though Zhang Yuan did not really understand what the other man meant, it sounded quite reasonable, so he let the matter drop. "Then what method of divination are you skilled in?"

Klein immediately perked up at that. "You should ask which method I'm not skilled in. Whether it's pendulum divination, tarot cards, coin divination, or mirror divination, they're all methods I commonly use."

"Then tarot cards it is." The man would never admit that they had reminded him of a certain pyramid scheme from his previous life.

"Draw one card that you believe can represent you. Take note: this is closely connected to your fate." Klein was perfectly serious.

Without even considering it, Zhang Yuan directly drew The Fool and slapped it onto the table with a pia. "This one. The Fool!"

The fortune-teller remained calm and glanced at The Fool card. "Your fate is somewhat unusual. If you wish me to tell you the true interpretation, then you must not lose your temper."

Is he going to use that old 'I see darkness between your brows' routine?

"All right, I pardon you." The man put on an imposing air.

Klein's nostrils practically smoked at those words. "Then listen carefully. The meaning of The Fool is that you're an idiot—a hopeless one at that."

???

"Oh? I picked this card for you. Are you sure?"

"For me? Wait, ahem. The Fool is the beginning and the end of all tarot cards, representing infinite possibilities." The fortune-teller began explaining in earnest. "It also carries meanings such as being unconventional, lucky, yearning for freedom, and possessing an artist's temperament."

As he spoke, he suddenly felt that something was wrong. "You drew this card yourself, so how did it become a representation of me? Who draws cards on someone else's behalf?"

"You were the one spouting nonsense first. How about you give me my silver coin back?" Zhang Yuan was displeased as well.

"Fine. Draw another card. I promise I won't joke around this time."

"This one—the World." The man continued playing the part of a pyramid-scheme leader.

This time, Klein seriously picked up the card and began explaining. "The World is a card symbolizing everlasting and sustained success. You have already arrived before the gates of success. As long as you persist patiently, you will be able to embrace the joy of that success."

Then his tone suddenly changed. "However, you may also end up abandoning everything halfway due to tremendous obstacles along the road or insufficient preparation of your own."

I knew it, Zhang Yuan thought. Sure enough, he's using that 'first suppress, then praise' routine again. He deliberately pretended to be frightened and uneasy. "Then, Master, may I ask whether you have any way to reverse this fortune?"

Seeing the other man's respectful manner, Master Klein could not help feeling that he had finally vented his frustration. However, things were not going to end so easily. "Interfering with the fate of mortals is no simple matter. Even someone like me, who can glimpse the river of fate, must rely on a fortune-turning ritual."

The more Zhang Yuan listened, the more familiar it sounded. "Then may I ask, Master, can you perform this ritual for me?"

"How could a fortune-turning ritual be that simple? The offerings alone are exceedingly rare and expensive." The master began laying his trap. "For example, one ritual requires capturing a deep-sea diving squid to sacrifice to the heavens."

"Sacrifice a squid to the heavens? How cruel. Are there any other kinds of rituals?"

Now that he was interested, Klein waxed eloquent. "There are four mainstream methods of fortune-turning rituals. Do you know what they are?"

"How much money can you swindle with these rituals?" Zhang Yuan asked out of nowhere.

"Only seven or eight gold pieces. I mean, no, I'm not swindling you." The master had let the truth slip and tried to salvage the situation.

Klein's face flushed red, and the veins on his forehead bulged as he argued, "How can you call fortune-turning 'swindling'? This is the price that must be paid to interfere with fate."

"Heh." Zhang Yuan rose and left, not even bothering to ask for his silver coin back.

After leaving the tent, Zhang Yuan felt somewhat dejected. It was not because of the single wasted silver coin. Rather, if such "masters" made up the entire market, how was he supposed to find that prophet?

Unwilling to give up, he continued wandering among the tents bearing fortune-telling signs. He visited one "master" after another, each differing in appearance, gender, price, divination style, tools, and even methods of deception. He endured repeated card draws, coin tosses, and even unorthodox performance art involving spirit dances.

Yet these masters had essentially come with a single goal in mind—his purse.

Disappointment. More disappointment. Disappointment again and again. Could it be five years too early? Had that prophet not yet moved to Baldur's Gate?

Looking at the ordinary-looking tent before him, Zhang Yuan still walked inside. Since I'm already here.

But the moment he entered, he heard a voice say, "Please come again tomorrow. I've already used up today's prophecy spell."

Surprises always came when least expected. Zhang Yuan had not been holding out much hope, but the moment he heard those words, he knew he had probably found the real thing.

The prophet from the game had a rule: he only made one prophecy for another person each day.

Having made up his mind, Zhang Yuan did not argue. He simply asked, "Then, Master, may I use your prophecy slot for tomorrow?"

The other party did not refuse. He merely said, "One gold coin per prophecy. Five silver coins as a deposit."

The man obediently paid. With less than four gold coins left on him, his heart ached as though it were being cut.

"Come early tomorrow. That way, I can get some rest sooner." That was the sentence he had received in exchange for five silver coins.

After leaving the prophet's tent, he took a long look at its location and committed it to memory.

By then, the sky outside had already darkened. Zhang Yuan, famished, hurried toward the team's camp. He would eat dinner in the cafeteria after all—every little bit saved helped.

Well then, a new month has arrived, dear readers. Could I ask you for an investment?

Thanks to Benqiu Kirby for the tip!