A Fixed Mindset

"Pfft—"

A crisp laugh came from nearby.

At this point, Ning Rongrong could no longer hold back her laughter.

Carrying several large and small bags, she stood beside the stall, staring for several seconds at the wooden sign bearing the eight words, "Infallible Predictions, Foreknowledge of the Future." Then she looked at the honest man kneeling on the ground, and finally at the young man sitting upright behind the stall with the air of an enlightened master.

How should she put it? A scam this obvious would not fool even beggars outside the gates of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.

She stepped gracefully up to the stall and bluntly addressed the honest customer right in front of the fortune-teller.

"How can you be this stupid?"

The honest man froze.

Tilting her head, Ning Rongrong spoke with utter sincerity. "I've heard of people being afraid someone might steal their wife, but this is the first time I've seen someone actively pushing his own wife toward another man and begging to become his disciple. Aren't you afraid your wife will be pregnant again before long?"

The moment her words fell, the air went quiet.

"You—"

The honest man's face flushed bright red. He abruptly rose to his feet and shoved Ning Rongrong hard enough to make her stagger.

"Who are you?" His voice rose several pitches. "I'm warning you, don't meddle in my affairs when you don't know anything! Don't ruin my good fortune!"

He turned and pointed at Yang Xing, his face full of reverence. "Do you know what kind of divine man Master Yang is? He's already predicted several of my fortunes perfectly! Who do you think you are? Don't anger Master Yang, or I won't be polite!"

Ning Rongrong staggered a step before steadying herself.

She lowered her head and looked at the sleeve of her white dress, now wrinkled from the shove. Her face darkened.

She was the young lady of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.

Since the day she was born, let alone being shoved, there had been few people who even dared raise their voices at her.

And now she had been shoved by an ordinary person who was not even a soul master.

Then looked down on, too.

She knew that with nothing more than a displeased glance from her, this man would be carried home horizontally today.

But then she remembered the smile she had practiced in front of the mirror thirty-seven times before leaving home.

Shrek Academy. A refined lady's persona. Gentle and gracious.

She endured it.

Ning Rongrong shot a fierce glare at Yang Xing, who sat there watching the show with a smiling face. Then she turned to the honest man, suppressing her anger while maintaining a measure of patience.

"I'm trying to help you! How can you fail to appreciate kindness?"

She pointed directly at Yang Xing's nose. "This guy is obviously a fraud! And you actually believe he taught you some ridiculous position to get your wife pregnant? How could anyone possibly predict the future? Not even the Titled Douluo I've met have such abilities! If your wife got pregnant after three months, that was definitely your own skill!"

The more Ning Rongrong spoke, the more certain she became, her expression plainly saying, "I've seen the world; all of you are fools."

"I've seen plenty of scammers like this. They just talk you into going home and trying your luck. If it works out, they claim the credit. If it doesn't, they've already run off."

After saying that, Ning Rongrong lifted her chin and waited for the honest man to come to his senses and tearfully thank her.

Instead, an old farmer arrived.

"Make way—"

An elderly man in a coarse cloth shirt squeezed through the crowd, the wrinkles on his face nearly splitting with his smile. He forcibly crowded Ning Rongrong aside and threw himself before Yang Xing's stall.

"Master! Master!" The old farmer's excited voice trembled. "You truly are a miraculous diviner! I really found a huge bag of Gold Soul Coins exactly where you said—two steps left and three steps right from the corner of the wall by my back door, then five steps forward! You solved my child's enrollment problem!"

As he spoke, the old farmer was about to kneel. "I want to take you as my master and serve you for the rest of my life—"

Yang Xing glanced at Ning Rongrong with a smile.

That look held thirty percent smugness, thirty percent innocence, and forty percent, What was that you were saying just now?

Then, still perfectly composed, he waved his hand. "Ah, no, no. That bag of Gold Soul Coins was something you were destined to receive in this life. This humble Daoist merely guided you to obtain it ahead of time. It was your own fortunate opportunity, so there is no need for such a grand gesture. Besides, this humble Daoist only accepts those fated to be his disciples. Benefactor, you should be on your way."

Ning Rongrong's eyes widened.

The honest man beside her conveniently turned his head and spread his hands at her. "What else do you have to say, little miss? Master didn't just help me." He pointed at the old farmer. "He helped this gentleman too, didn't he?"

The old farmer nodded repeatedly, clasping his hands and bowing again and again toward Yang Xing. "It's all thanks to Master, all thanks to Master! My son can attend a soul master academy now. Master is practically a living god—"

Yang Xing narrowed his eyes in Ning Rongrong's direction, the corner of his mouth curling upward as he slowly waved his hand.

No matter how she looked at it, the gesture seemed like a provocation.

Ning Rongrong's anger flared, and a faint blush rose on her cheeks.

She pointed at the old farmer. "He must have buried that bag of Gold Soul Coins himself! Just to deceive you—"

"Ah."

Yang Xing spoke.

His voice was not loud, yet it cut in at precisely the moment Ning Rongrong was halfway through her sentence, effortlessly deflecting her attack.

"Miss." Yang Xing looked at her calmly, his tone even carrying a hint of tolerance. "You say I guessed at the other matters, and I can choose not to hold it against you. After all, you don't understand. Ignorance is no crime."

He paused.

"But saying I buried Gold Soul Coins to deceive this old gentleman—that I cannot tolerate."

Ning Rongrong tilted her head. "Why?"

Yang Xing smiled.

His smile was exceptionally open and sincere, even carrying a touch of self-mocking ease—

"Because I charge one Copper Soul Coin per reading."

He raised one finger and slowly waved it before Ning Rongrong.

"One. Copper Soul Coin."

"How could I possibly bury an entire bag of Gold Soul Coins for this old gentleman over a single Copper Soul Coin?"

"Miss, do I look like someone who does business at a loss?"

After speaking, he deliberately glanced at the old farmer.

The old farmer slowly nodded at Ning Rongrong. "Indeed, Master only charged me one Copper Soul Coin."

Ning Rongrong opened her mouth, utterly dumbfounded. For a moment, she could not find any words.

Her mind raced.

One Copper Soul Coin for a reading, versus the cost of an entire bag of Gold Soul Coins—no matter how she calculated it, it was a losing deal.

But she still did not believe him.

"Hmph." Ning Rongrong lifted her chin again, her delicate brows knitting into an attractive frown as she spoke with certainty. "You may not be doing it for money. You could be doing it for fame. You bury Gold Soul Coins for this old man, and he spreads the word for you everywhere. Later, everyone in Soto City will come to you for readings, and won't you earn it all back then? Taking a loss to build a reputation—I've seen that trick plenty of times in Heaven Dou City."

After saying that, she crossed her arms over her chest, looking as though she were waiting to see how he would explain his way out of it.

Yang Xing did not move.

Leaning against the back of his chair, with the palm-leaf fan resting on his knees, he squinted at Ning Rongrong for two seconds before smiling.

"Miss." He stretched out one finger and slowly wagged it. "Have you done the math?"

"One Gold Soul Coin equals ten thousand Copper Soul Coins. I charge one Copper Soul Coin per reading. By your logic, if I were taking a loss to build a reputation, I would need to perform tens of thousands of readings in a row just to break even."

He tilted his head, his tone impossibly sincere. "There are only so many people in Soto City. Whether even ten thousand people would be willing to come to me for readings is another question entirely."

"Do I look like the kind of person willing to gamble such a huge investment on an uncertain outcome?"

Ning Rongrong's lips moved.

She still wanted to say something, but her lovely brows drew even tighter.

Reason told her that the entire affair was strangely suspicious.

Someone seeking a child, someone seeking gold—they all seemed like characters straight out of a storybook. And this young fortune-teller before her, neither particularly handsome nor ugly, with perfectly unremarkable features, had the words "fraud" written all over him.

Yet she could not find the needle that would pierce through it all.

Because her thinking had been boxed in from the very beginning.

Yang Xing was a fraud, and those two people were victims.

She could not imagine a third possibility.

Watching Ning Rongrong swallow her anger without finding anywhere to direct it, Yang Xing understood perfectly well.

With ten years of experience taking disciples, he could see straight into people's bones.

That was why he had tailored this grand feast of disciple-taking specifically for Ning Rongrong.

Of course, the chips he had accumulated were still not enough to successfully take Ning Rongrong as his disciple.

For a proud daughter of heaven like her, the more you begged her, the more she would look down on you.

He had to do the opposite.

Once the basic chips were sufficient—

He would add one final, weighty stake!

He yawned, waved his palm-leaf fan, and leaned back against his chair.

"Alright, alright. If you have nothing else to do, disperse." He waved Ning Rongrong away, his tone as casual as though he were shooing flies. "And you, little miss, if you're not getting a reading, then leave first. This humble Daoist should be packing up as well."