I refused immediately. "No, no—i saved you for money. Taking you as a girlfriend breaks the rules." Though I spoke firmly, my heart raced. Who could resist a beautiful woman throwing herself at them?
"You look terrified." Zhao Na laughed. "Skip the stall today. I want to show you something."
"For what?" I protested but followed. She led me to an east Zhongjie Commercial Building shop, newly renovated except for the signboard. The ancient - style interior resembled a Chinese medicine store. "Are you opening a pharmacy? Need feng shui advice?"
Converted from a clothing store, it had two rooms: the front in traditional Chinese style, the back furnished with rosewood furniture—oddly like a feng shui dojo. The inner room even had a bed!
A cleaning auntie approached. "Miss Zhao, the shop is done. Check for issues."
"Good. Clean daily; I'll pay your agency monthly."
It hit me. "This shop is yours? Want me to check its feng shui?"
She smiled mysteriously, tossing me keys. "You're the new owner."
"WHAT?!" I thought I'd misheard. "Stop kidding."
"No joke. My dad had business troubles and planned to rent this place. He feels he owes you his life—take it as repayment."
"I can't! This prime location costs hundreds of thousands a year. I'm just a fortune - teller."
She pouted. "Refuse, and he'll smash it."
"Don't waste it!" Still, her persistence swayed me. Maybe I'd repay her later.
Thus, I named it "Yi Zhai"—from the I Ching and Feng Shui Zhai Zhi, my life's studies. The I Ching divides yin - yang, predicts fortune; Feng Shui Zhai Zhi finds dragon veins and dispels curses.
Three days later, the sign went up, but business was slow—customers doubted my youth. Zhao Na visited daily, bringing food and chatting. Our worlds collided: her social life fascinated me, while she marveled at my tales of feng shui. A romantic tension grew.
A week later, Madam Dong arrived with 2,500 yuan. "Miracle! My husband's out—they said evidence is insufficient. Thank you!"
"Keep up the offerings. Don't forget."
She slid another 5,000 yuan. "Can you help his career?"
Tempted by money, I paused. "Add a drop of blood from a 70 - year - old to the virgin boy's urine. Female blood works better—don't use more."
She left happily, unaware my advice would destroy her family.