Ficorpio
Chapter 1
I was an expert in divination, specializing in anonymous online readings about romance.
That was until my longtime rival accidentally became one of my clients.
Displayed on my mobile phone were our birth-chart details.
Master, do you think there’s a chance for the two of us?
I stared at the screen for a moment before typing:
No.
I assumed that would be the end of it.
Instead, the idiot asked me to redo the reading again and again.
At last, I lost my patience.
You could have me read this a hundred times, and the result would still be the same. There are so many women in the world. Do you really have to insist on this one?
The other person was silent for less than a day.
Reader, I think we should delete each other. I found someone who can place a Gu on her. I guarantee she’ll fall madly in love with me. You still need more practice.
Me: …
I had been fascinated by divination since I was a child.
From the Book of Changes to tarot cards, I knew a little about everything.
After starting college, I opened an online shop that offered romantic-fate and compatibility readings. Before long, I had built a modest reputation in the business.
Unfortunately, business had been slow lately. As I stared at my miserable sales figures, I was wondering whether it was time to expand my services.
My friend beside me urged, “Chloe, that Ethan Sterling guy is on a roll. Come on, cheer for him!”
Was my career not important enough?
Who wanted to watch Ethan gloat after winning?
Honestly, I hoped he would lose as soon as possible so I could slip away.
If I hadn’t lost a bet to him a few days earlier, I never would have come to watch such a boring basketball game.
On the court, Ethan Sterling wore a number 23 basketball jersey. Every movement he made was quick and fluid.
Each time he jumped, he seemed to brush the edge of the sky.
The crisp sound of the ball passing through the net almost sounded like applause for him.
The opposing team quickly came up with a strategy, though.
My friend couldn’t help complaining. “I swear, the other team plays dirty. Why do they keep crashing into our Ethan?”
The first game ended soon after, with Ethan’s team narrowly taking the win.
I watched Ethan walk toward us, preparing to sit out during the break.
His loose jersey was soaked through with sweat, offering glimpses of his collarbones and chest beneath his throat.
I swallowed.
To be fair, with Ethan’s looks and physique, it was a waste that he wasn’t working as a male model.
Ethan accepted the water my friend handed him, but his eyes remained fixed on me.
I felt a little guilty about the thought I’d just had, but I still glared back at him.
What was he looking at? Was he trying to show off how well he’d played?
It was a provocation. A completely blatant provocation!
Chapter 2
He looked away and lowered his head, tapping at his mobile phone.
Just then, a notification popped up on my own phone. I had received a new online-shop order.
The customer had sent me a pair of birth charts.
I set aside my annoyance at Ethan’s provocation and focused on business.
After taking a careful look, I found the match rather interesting.
One person’s birth-chart data was exactly the same as mine.
Then again, there were billions of people in the world. It wasn’t impossible.
I typed:
Sweetheart, I’ll need their names too~
After a short silence, the customer sent two names.
Chloe Bennett, Ethan Sterling.
This time, I fell completely silent.
Unless I was mistaken, my name was Chloe Bennett.
And the other person was sitting less than ten feet away from me.
He also happened to be my longtime rival.
Well, reader? Do we have a chance?
I thought about it with great difficulty before replying:
Sweetheart, my shop reads romantic matches. I don’t read doomed relationships.
? I know that.
That completely ruled out the possibility that he had mistaken me for someone else.
The only remaining explanation was that there was another perfectly matched couple with the same names and the exact same birth-chart data as us.
To test that theory, I decided to bluff him.
Your situation is a little complicated. I need to confirm my reading through your faces. Add me on WeChat and send me a photo so we can discuss the details.
I stared at the familiar profile picture attached to the friend request from his secret account, still refusing to give up.
What if—just hypothetically—Ethan Sterling really did have a friend with the exact same name and birth-chart data as me?
Then, in the next second, photos of Ethan and me appeared right there in the chat.
What the hell?
Was this guy messing with me?
Had my secret side business been exposed?
Professor, can you tell anything?
Aren’t we incredibly fated? She was just flirting with me. I nearly gave her my life.
The corner of my mouth twitched. I couldn’t stop myself from screaming internally.
If you’re that blind, go get your eyes checked!
I gave Ethan another look, the kind usually reserved for complete idiots.
He didn’t even raise his head. His fingers flew across the screen.
I’m serious, Professor. She’s looking at me again!
Is she secretly in love with me? Has she been watching me this whole time? Should I respond to her feelings?
His peripheral vision was pretty impressive, though.
Heh.
The missing bronze pig’s head from the old imperial palace had finally been found.
After all, even a pig knew better than to look up at people.
The sun blazed overhead, but my heart had plunged into an icy abyss.
Who would have thought that the mortal enemy who had traded insults with me for more than a decade was secretly this kind of person?
Impossible.
I was afraid that if I didn’t sound professional enough, he might think there was still a chance for the two of us.
Chapter 3
You two are absolutely not a blessed match. You are an ill-fated bond carried over from ten lifetimes, destined to drain each other in this one. Meeting was your shared misfortune. You will never find a happy ending together, in this life or any other.
Looking at the day pillars in both your birth charts, you fall into a catastrophic clash between the Jia and Geng energies. As for the five elements, there is no harmony or mutual support between you. Instead, each of you restrains and damages the other.
A natural configuration like this is no different from forcing water and fire into the same vessel. You would only burn each other alive.
The person on the other end immediately broke down.
Do you even know how to read birth charts? Did you actually look at both of ours?
What kind of nonsense is this? Everyone says we look perfect together!
I want you to read it again. Otherwise, you’re getting a one-star review.
Ethan Sterling looked ready to keep arguing, but his teammates quickly dragged him back onto the court.
Business had already been slow enough to put me in a bad mood. The last thing I needed was a nightmare customer like him making it worse.
Ryan Parker, who had sat out the previous game, took the empty seat beside me while he waited for his turn to play.
I struck up a conversation as politely as I could. “Hi. I was watching you play just now—”
Before I could finish, he said, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
A vein twitched at my temple. I fought the urge to swear at him.
“Then go find one. Why are you telling me?”
He blinked. “Okay. What did you want?”
I smiled sweetly. “You play really dirty. Next time, watch where you’re going. Stop crashing into number twenty-three. He’s…”
I paused, struggling to force the words out.
“He’s my boyfriend.”
Ryan smiled but said nothing. Then he got up and headed onto the court.
My friends were staring at me with barely contained excitement.
“What?” I demanded.
“Chloe, you finally figured it out!”
I frowned. “Figured what out?”
They exchanged knowing looks. “We understand.”
The moment Ryan returned to the game, it was as if he had activated some kind of automatic targeting system. He kept slamming straight into Ethan.
I nodded in satisfaction.
Excellent. I had successfully redirected all that hostility onto him.
My friends sighed.
“What’s wrong with you now?” I asked.
No one answered. They merely shook their heads and gazed at Ethan with profound sympathy.
“Actually,” one of them finally said, “we still don’t understand you at all.”
Unfortunately, the game did not end the way I wanted. Ethan still won.
Afterward, he walked past me five separate times wearing his medal, each pass carefully disguised as an accident.
He was obviously mocking my complete lack of athletic ability. I took seven minutes to run eight hundred meters, and he knew it.
Still, I refused to be intimidated by his pathetic little victory parade.
That evening, the jerk messaged my shop account again.