Chapter 1 Descending the Mountain
At the base of the mountain, Lorna Martin eagerly eyed the bustling street in the distance. "Finally, I get to leave this mountain!"
Her small satchel shifted slightly, as if reminding her of her main mission.
Lorna gave the bag a little shake and grinned, "Yeah, yeah, I remember. The engagement."
By evening, she had made it to the city's snack street just as night fell.
The air was thick with the smell of barbecue and other snacks, and the lively shouts were almost overwhelming for Lorna.
"Lorna! There's grilled chicken! Aren't you hungry? Let's go eat!" a voice suddenly called out.
"Did you forget why we came down the mountain?" Lorna smiled, grabbed the restless spirit of Ivan Jones, and stuffed him back into the satchel.
"Buying that fancy locust wood for the plaque drained all my money, and you still want grilled chicken!" She noticed someone nearby glancing over, so she pretended to adjust her bag.
The wooden plaque seemed to deflate, and Ivan sheepishly retreated back into the bag.
"I heard there are plenty of suckers in the city. Let's make some cash and get you that grilled chicken." Lorna headed toward the overpass.
Hearing about his favorite grilled chicken, Ivan perked up, his eyes sparkling with ideas. "Northwest direction, there's grilled chicken! No, wait, there's fortune!"
At the Allard Mansion, Lucas Allard stood on the second floor with a cane, watching Bernard Allard grab his car keys and head out.
Lucas angrily pointed at Bernard, "You better come back early tonight.We need to make a good impression for Lorna's first visit to our home!"
Bernard frowned, like he'd just heard something ridiculous, ignored his grandfather, and drove off.
On the overpass, Lorna, dressed in a faded blue robe with her hair in a bun, pulled out a well-used piece of cardboard from her bag, folded it, and set it up.
People gathered around and looked down: [Fortune-telling: $100 per session, up to three times a day.]
A burst of laughter erupted.
"Are you even an adult, pretending to be a fortune-teller? Doesn't your family care about you? Haha."
The mocking voice came from a middle-aged man in a white robe, with two obviously fake white mustaches stuck to his face.
Lorna sat cross-legged, took out a pen, and placed a piece of yellow paper in front of her.
Only then did she look up at him.
A fellow practitioner, but his fortune-telling skills were pretty weak.
The middle-aged man felt uncomfortable under Lorna's gaze and glared at her. "What are you looking at? Am I wrong? Can you swear you're not a fraud?"
Lorna leisurely squinted and smiled at him. "Wanna let me tell your fortune? This one's on the house."
She added, "Oh, because you're a fellow practitioner."
The middle-aged man, provoked, took out his phone, and Lorna instinctively handed over her bank card number.
"You have received $100!" The notification sounded, signaling the arrival of the first sucker.
Lorna cheerfully invited him to squat down and said, "Write a word."
The middle-aged man, not believing her, wrote a word casually.
Lorna looked at it, then at his slightly furrowed brows, and gently shook her head. "This word should be strong and powerful, but your strokes are careless and sloppy; not good."
The middle-aged man's eyes showed a hint of panic. "You're talking nonsense!"
Lorna looked at the already panicking man with interest and continued, "Your handwriting is shaky, which suggests you've held a knife and committed a crime. Your guilty conscience makes your strokes uncontrollable. Am I right?"
"Shut up! You fraud, I'm not!" the middle-aged man exclaimed.
Someone in the crowd, with perfect timing, had already called the cops. A bunch of young guys rushed up to grab the middle-aged man trying to flee.
"The cops are here! The cops are here!" someone shouted.
As the middle-aged man was hauled away and the police car drove off, a crowd gathered around Lorna's stall.
These days, most fortune-tellers were just good at reading micro-expressions and body language, making their predictions seem spot-on.
But Lorna, young and able to read someone's thoughts from a single word, had some real skills.
Still, charging a hundred bucks for a fortune-telling was a bit steep.
Seeing no one with good fortune around, Lorna closed her eyes and started to meditate.
The crowd slowly dispersed. Just as the street's hustle and bustle was about to die down, Lorna suddenly opened her eyes.
Some onlookers, thinking Lorna was about to leave, saw her enthusiastically greeting a young girl dressed in expensive clothes.
"Do you want a fortune reading?? I foresee misfortune for you today," Lorna said.
A gasp arose from the crowd. "Wow, this girl doesn't know how to talk. Isn't she afraid of getting beaten?" someone said.
Another chimed in, "Yeah, this looks like a rich young lady. Isn't she getting angry?"
"You fraud, what nonsense are you spouting?" Clara Allard, who had come over after seeing the commotion on social media, saw the small stall.
Dressed in designer brands, with a luxury necklace around her neck, her pretty face was angry at Lorna's words.
Seeing the faint familial connection with Clara and the almost solidified ominous aura above her head, Lorna decided to save this girl who might be her future sister-in-law.
"No need to write a word. Buy a protection charm. I foresee a deadly misfortune for you tonight," Lorna said.
Clara laughed angrily at this familiar sales pitch. "Are you crazy? Who knows if your protection charms are real? And why should I believe your prediction of a deadly misfortune?"
Clara looked arrogant, but Lorna didn't mind her sarcasm and turned to sit down leisurely.
She looked at Clara and casually remarked, "Then go ahead, it's hard to persuade with good intentions!"
She packed up her things, seemingly not intending to continue arguing with Clara.
Clara didn't believe it at first, but thinking of the supernatural novels she usually read, where characters died because they didn't listen.
Moreover, in front of so many people, Lorna probably wouldn't lie to her.
Seeing the fake fortune-teller being caught on social media was indeed Lorna's doing.
After much mental preparation, Clara decided to buy a protection charm from Lorna.
"How much? How much do you want?" she asked.
"A protection charm is three thousand dollars." Lorna smiled and handed over a printed bank card number.
"Crazy! Even a fraud shouldn't be robbing people! I'm not buying it, I don't believe anything will happen to me!" Clara yelled in frustration.
Lorna squinted and packed her satchel with a smile. "Alright, but next time the protection charm will be double the price."
"I won't be fooled!" Clara's face turned red with anger, her heart pounding, but she still walked away.
She had come out to have fun, but now a fraud was telling her she wouldn't live long!
Clara recalled Lorna's clear and bright eyes when she looked at her, not like she was lying.
But who wouldn't be scared if told they would die soon?
Clara forced herself to believe Lorna was a fraud, making up lies to make money.
She needed to leave quickly and get home to be safe.
Walking away anxiously, she couldn't help but think, 'Could there really be a deadly misfortune?'