Dan Yuseong’s POV
Fortunately, Lady Shin and I managed to et the rchants’ agreed ti without being late. I wasn’t fully recovered yet, but I could at least move around without collapsing.
"Cough, cough..."
"What in the world were you two up to that one of you looks half-dead?"
"Oh, co now, you don’t ask things like that."
"...It’s not what you think."
I still coughed a little, but it wasn’t so bad that I couldn’t function. Still, the rchants’ teasing glances made my cheeks burn under the hood.
"But, Lady Shin... was there really a need to go this far...?"
"Stay still."
Wrapped up in blankets and tucked into a corner of the carriage, I must have looked pitiful from the outside, which worried more than the fever.
"She may seem prickly, but she really cares."
"Good tis, good tis..."
The rchants didn’t seem bothered—so even smirked when they glanced my way, their eyes twinkling with unspoken amusent.
’Honestly, I must look ridiculous...’
A fortune teller’s mystique is their lifeline, and here I was, looking anything but mystical—more like a bundled invalid than a enigmatic seer. But sitting up properly was out of the question—Lady Shin’s stern deanor, sharp as a needle, kept firmly in check.
’I’m grateful she’s looking out for , but...’
Isn’t this a bit much?
Eventually, after so negotiation, I escaped my comical state. The deal was that if I felt sick again, I’d go back to being bundled up like before.
"Is my health really that much of a concern to you?"
’Since we’re traveling together, I suppose she’s worried about my condition.’
I appreciated her care, but it felt a tad excessive, so I brought it up as the carriage rumbled along.
"I nursed you for two days—how could I not be concerned?"
"...I’m sorry."
I had no coback for that. Guilt twisted in my gut; she’d poured effort into , and here I was questioning it.
"Now that I think about it, if my health acts up again in Anhui, we’d both be stuck in a room together for days again—not exactly ideal for either of us."
"Oh."
"I was short-sighted. I’ll take better care of myself."
"No, wait... On second thought, the human body can’t just heal faster on command, and pushing it might—"
"No, I was wrong to brush off your kindness. You don’t need to apologize, Lady Shin."
It wasn’t as extre as before, but I wrapped myself in the blanket again, pulling it snug for emphasis.
"Ugh..."
She clutched her head, as if I’d said sothing utterly wrong, but I felt it best not to press the topic further. The air between us thickened with unspoken awkwardness, and I shifted under the covers, coughing lightly to fill the silence.
"Oh, since we have so ti, how about another fortune reading?"
"...Didn’t we already do one last ti?"
"That was a general reading of your fate. If we narrow the scope, I can read other things—wealth, relationships, longevity, or early death. Pretty much anything you want."
"...That specifically?"
"Is there a problem?"
"No... It’s all in the will of the heavens, I suppose."
For a mont, I braced myself for a typical Taoist lecture, but thankfully, it didn’t co. Her response hung mild, almost resigned.
’Lady Shin really is different from other Taoists.’
’Using the heavens for profit is wrong.’
’Overusing the heavens brings chaos to the world.’
It’s my ability, earned through ten years of suffering under a grumpy master—why should they dictate how I use it? Even the heavens themselves are so fickle, it’s hard to use them properly anyway.
"So, Lady Shin, is there anything you’re curious about? Shall I see how long you’ll live?"
"W-Wait a mont..."
Before I could even start, a result ca up. Well, not exactly a proper result—it flickered into my mind unbidden, hazy and incomplete.
"...Did I ss up sowhere? Why is it ’unasurable’...?"
"Haha... I-I’m more interested in other things than my lifespan."
"No, this has never happened before. If I try again, it’ll work properly, so just one more—"
Thud!
Crack!
The wooden panel next to my face split apart, a hairline fracture spiderwebbing from the impact of her palm.
"I said it’s fine."
"Y-Yes, understood."
I couldn’t et her eyes and looked down instead, heat rising to my cheeks. The carriage seed to shrink around us, the air charged with her quiet intensity.
Rustle rustle.
"So, uh, what are you curious about?"
I fidgeted with my wooden tablet, trying to lighten the mood, the familiar grooves under my fingers a small anchor.
"...As I ntioned, I’m looking for soone."
"Oh... Right, the one in Anhui..."
"No. I’m heading to Anhui based on so information, but it’s not certain. In ten years, I’ve t more than a few similar people."
"Ah..."
Co to think of it, I still didn’t know the full story behind her situation. I assud it was a childhood benefactor she’d been searching for to repay a debt over ten years, but I didn’t know the exact details—only fragnts she’d shared in passing.
"Should I see if that person is the one you’re looking for?"
"No... Not quite..."
Her lips moved as if she wanted to say sothing more, then trailed off into hesitation.
"...Never mind. Just do that."
She quietly bit her lip, gaze drifting to the carriage window where the landscape blurred past.
"I’ll do my best. Let’s hope the heavens give us a clear answer."
Naturally, the heavens rarely gave a straightforward "Yes, that’s the one" kind of response. They’d probably give so convoluted answer, as tricky as their temperant. And then I’d have to slave away deciphering it.
Tap tap tap tap.
"Well... It’s been a while since I last felt this sensation."
Having done this hundreds of tis, I skillfully laid out the wooden tablets and began summoning the heavens’ will, fingers dancing over the slips with practiced rhythm.
Whoooosh.
The contents recorded in the heavens flowed into my mind. Not in human language—sothing far too complex to express in mortal words flooded my head, a torrent of symbols and echoes that defied translation.
"There. Done."
But after over ten years of this, I was used to it. At this point, I could probably do it lying down if I wanted.
Rumble.
...Though, knowing our capricious heavens, I’d better keep so minimal courtesy, lest they react unpredictably! A quick ntal apology couldn’t hurt.
"...What did it say?"
"As is typical with reading the heavens, it’s not a simple yes or no, but..."
I smiled at her slightly tense expression and continued, leaning forward with a conspiratorial tilt.
"It seems I can give you so good news."
"Really?"
"Yes. It says, [The eting you’ve been anticipating will soon co.]"
"Oh..."
"And the outco of that eting depends on you, Lady Shin."
"I see. I’ll keep that in mind."
Though her reaction included an exclamation, her expression seed a bit stiff—but I figured that was understandable. After a decade of searching, even vague hope might feel like a double-edged blade.
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