"Forgive me for saying so, but it sounds like there's not much difference between the two. I'd even have to gamble on whether I could be reborn."
After Yuan Fang explained the two options, Fu Qian gave his assessment with a tight, humorless smile.
"Quite right. But do you know what's even more right?"
Yuan Fang didn't deny it. In fact, he smiled broadly.
"What?"
"Your opinion still doesn't matter. The point of this meeting is still for me to communicate this choice to you. The future I foresaw only goes this far."
In both tone and expression, that fortune-teller Yuan was begging to be hit.
So this was your answer? You wanted me to empathize with your predicament?
Fu Qian ignored the guy and instead gazed into the darkness, lost in thought.
A future that looked utterly hopeless, and an adventure shrouded in the unknown—which should he choose?
As mentioned earlier, no matter how good Yuan the Prophet thought he was, to Fu Qian his only purpose was to be an oscilloscope.
So at this very moment, although Yuan had made a special trip for a perfectly reasonable reason, Fu Qian's first instinct was still to treat this as feedback from a patient.
For instance, the meeting that had prompted him to come, the one that "only went this far," sounded like someone subconsciously objecting: faced with a future doomed to fail, why shouldn't he doubt his former self?
That was indeed a difficult question to answer.
No wonder. If it weren't, how could it trouble a higher being?
Fu Qian mused to himself.
But that was all right. For a doctor, even the worst feedback was good news. Communication was the first step toward solving a problem.
He could even answer that question right now.
"Name, age,