Han Juncheng sat under the eaves, a pair of black-framed glasses perched on his flat face, as he silently observed the fortune teller before him.
The fortune teller smiled humbly and said, "Mister Han, I've told you about the matter. Do you think it's suitable for us to take action tonight?"
Han Juncheng sneered. "When my father was still the Border Defense Envoy, I wouldn't have spared a second glance for someone like you."
The fortune teller nodded repeatedly. "Thank you for your consideration, Young Master Han. This is also out of respect for our master."
Han Juncheng huffed, "Master? Who is your master? He Jiaqing? You have no idea what my father's status was. Back then, even the son of a merchant like He Jiaqing wouldn't have found it easy to get an audience with me."
The fortune teller still maintained his smile.
Han Juncheng was undeniably arrogant, but this was distinct from aloof pride.
