The fortune-teller didn't refuse. He brought out his tarot deck, shuffled it briskly, then flicked his wrist. The cards flew out in a row and landed spread across the table.
"Everyone, turn over one card," he said.
The others reached out at the same time, each choosing a card with perfect understanding. They turned them over together.
The four cards were the Chariot reversed, the Empress upright, Strength upright, and the Wheel of Fortune upright.
Jin Shanshan became the center of attention when she drew the Chariot reversed.
Even Jin Shanshan looked stunned. She stared at the familiar Chariot card, then at the fortune-teller.
She had already drawn two Chariot cards from the fortune-teller before, but both times, the card had been upright.
I didn't know much about tarot cards, but I'd heard the skinny guy mention in passing that upright cards usually meant good things—positive developments or outcomes—while reversed cards often represented trouble, failure, or bad outcomes. It was the same when reading people: the former represented virtues, the latter, flaws.
I also remembered the first time the skinny guy had had his cards read. His ex-girlfriend had gone to a medium soon after they started dating, and the reading had turned out well. After that, she'd been pleased with him and liked everything about him. The skinny guy only learned later that there'd been a reading in the first place, and he'd even thought about bribing the medium his ex-girlfriend often visited.
I looked at Jin Shanshan.
She seemed worried. Like a believer who'd drawn a fortune and was waiting for a priest to interpret it, she gazed at the fortune-teller.
The fortune-teller glanced at the cards, then reached out and drew one of his own.
From Jin Shanshan's memories, I knew this was the first time she'd