Ficorpio
Chapter 1
I was livestreaming a tarot reading when I crossed paths with a billionaire heir.
“Ma’am, how’s my luck looking this month?” Staring at the cards in my hand, he curled his lips into a teasing smile.
I answered honestly. “Forget this month. The real question is whether you’ll make it through today.”
He burst out laughing and said his dog had chosen the cards for him.
As if I knew how to read tarot.
What I was looking at was the shriveled human head in his bedroom…
Master Evelyn, please don’t blame me. These days, even elementary school kids know they’re supposed to trust the science.
The things you taught me stopped being useful a long time ago.
After arranging the Tarot Deck, I set my Bargain-Bin Crystal Ball on the table—the one I’d bought online for practically nothing—and adjusted the camera angle.
Heh. I had to admit, it looked surprisingly convincing.
The moment I opened the livestream connection, viewers began flooding in. I’d only ever seen a crowd gather that quickly when someone was throwing bait into a pond.
【Holy crap! Isn’t that the Sterling heir? Holy crap! A new streamer? What kind of luck does she have? This traffic alone will keep her fed for a while.】
The Sterling heir? Adrian Sterling?
【Not sure whether it’ll keep her fed, but it’ll definitely give her a nasty stomachache. Our heir hasn’t been in a good mood lately. He’s been going around exposing frauds.】
【Ha! She took down one of the little ones, so now the big one is here? The heir just drove an astrology streamer off the platform, and now he’s come for a tarot streamer?】
【Honestly, someone needs to clean up this mess. Astrology, tarot—how are they any different from those fortune-telling con artists? It’s all officially condemned superstition!】
I liked that comment.
A few days ago, I hadn’t known any better. I’d said whatever came to mind during my livestream, and the platform had slapped me with the label of “officially condemned superstition” before suspending my account over and over.
Eventually, I had no choice but to disguise my work as tarot.
The Seventy-Third Keeper of Everpeace Sanctuary reduced to hiding behind a tarot persona just to survive. What a tragedy…
I truly couldn’t understand it. If it was divination either way, why was what our ancestors practiced called superstition while something imported from overseas got a free pass?
【Did this streamer know the heir was coming? Why else would she have a Trust the Science Plaque hanging behind her? Hahaha! Doesn’t she realize how ridiculous that looks?】
I did know a big spender was coming. I’d cast a reading before starting the stream, after all, and it had promised extraordinary financial luck.
Chapter 2
As for the plaque, that was purely because getting banned so often had left me with a nervous tic.
But judging from the comments, earning money from Adrian Sterling wasn’t going to be easy.
I wasn’t so sure about that.
Come on. I’d done my homework.
“Tarot is a science, too.” I cleared my throat and began spouting nonsense with a perfectly serious expression. “When you get right down to it, tarot is a branch of statistics.”
“A French mathematician once proposed a concept. Suppose there were a demon somewhere in the universe that knew the position and momentum of every fundamental particle, and possessed enough computational power to calculate the particles’ next movements.”
I raised my eyes to meet the camera.
“In other words, the future is already determined.”
【Hahaha! She really just makes things up as she goes. Comparing herself to Laplace’s Demon? Does she think everyone watching is completely uneducated?】
【Does nobody else think the way she talks complete nonsense with such a straight face is kind of adorable? Stupidly adorable.】
【You said yourself that Laplace’s Demon represents omniscience and omnipotence. Isn’t it a little arrogant to use that hypothesis to explain your own field? Are you claiming to be an all-knowing, all-powerful genius?】
【Get lost already! Scamming people under the banner of science is even worse than being a plain old occult fraud! Don’t mislead anyone here!】
“Want to give it a try?” I fanned the Tarot Deck in my hand and smiled provocatively at the camera. “Or are you scared?”
Adrian Sterling had been lounging against the sofa, watching me like I was a show put on for his entertainment. At last, he sat up straight.
The corner of his mouth lifted into a wicked smile.
“Fine.”
The three cards Adrian Sterling had chosen were the Queen of Cups Reversed, the Three of Swords Upright, and The Hanged Man.
God only knew what they meant.
I spread the cards across the table and pretended to study them while my left hand, hidden beneath the table, formed a ritual hand sign.
The live comments rolled in.
[LOL, does she even know how to read these? Why is it taking so long? Every other tarot reader starts talking the second the cards hit the table.]
[I thought she was supposed to be some kind of expert. Turns out she’s a tarot newbie too. Is she secretly looking everything up under the table?]
[These days, anyone can ramble about zodiac signs and tarot. Guys, report her. Why should a fraud this bad need Adrian Sterling himself to expose her?]
Chapter 3
[You can tell she’s a beginner, but you can also tell she’s trying really hard. Give her time, everyone. She’s working so hard to make something up. I’m crying!]
They were right. I was looking it up.
The book just happened to be inside my head.
I had a perfect memory. That was why, despite my age, I had risen above the sanctuary’s many disciples and inherited the position of Keeper.
Hundreds—perhaps thousands—of bookshelves stood within my mind, crammed with every book I had ever read.
And I wasn’t searching through them because my training was lacking.
I was searching because Adrian’s omen corresponded to the Hexagram of Splitting Apart.
Yin forces stripping away the last remnant of yang. No journey undertaken beneath such a sign would end well. Five yin lines below, one solitary yang line above—darkness ascendant, light isolated. A mountain collapsing into the earth.
I would have preferred to discover that I was simply incompetent.
Because if the omen was accurate, Adrian wouldn’t survive the night.
“So, ma’am,” Adrian drawled, staring at the cards in my hands with a mocking curve to his lips, “how’s the rest of my month looking?”
“Forget the rest of the month,” I said frankly. “Whether you’ll survive today is the real question.”
He burst out laughing. “You really will say anything, won’t you? My dog picked those cards.”
With that, Adrian pulled the large golden retriever beside him into his arms. Holding one of the dog’s front paws, he waved it at the camera.
Sunny was something of an online celebrity in his own right. Adrian often posted their daily antics on another account, inspiring countless comments from people lamenting that their lives weren’t even as good as a dog’s.
No one noticed that Sunny kept glancing behind Adrian.
Or that his body was trembling ever so slightly.
The livestream channel exploded.
[HAHAHAHA! No one destroys a fraud like Adrian Sterling. Let’s see how she explains this one. Is she going to claim that dogs and their owners share the same fate because they live under the same roof?]
[Sorry, I can’t hold it in. Forget the dog—I’ve never heard a tarot reader tell someone they won’t live through the night.]
[So she’s just dressing up old-school fortune-telling scams as tarot? What’s next? Is she going to tell Adrian he has to pay her to avert disaster? What a con artist.]
[Guys, I’m actually the first emperor of China. Who do you believe, me or her?]
[Your Majesty, don’t leave! I’ll send you five hundred yuan! Just make me a general once you reclaim your empire!]