“This is my uncle, Zhao Pingsheng,” Lin Qianshi said, rubbing his nose. Meeting Zhao Pingsheng’s teasing gaze, he introduced him seriously: “Uncle, this is Miss Gu. She’s a fortune-teller.”

“A fortune-teller?”

Zhao Pingsheng’s eyes lit up with interest. Looking at Gu Xicao, he remarked, “A fortune-teller so young must be very skilled.”

Gu Xicao was slightly taken aback. She was used to people doubting her at first glance, so encountering someone with such an attitude was rather novel. “Not too bad. So far, I’ve never been wrong.”

“That’s impressive,” Zhao Pingsheng said, glancing at the public housing building. “A master living here, the feng shui must be excellent. Ah-Shi, if I remember correctly, you were in charge of the redevelopment of this area, right? Is that how you two met?”

Lin Qianshi’s face showed a rare hint of unease. “Uncle, mind your business!”

Gu Xicao couldn’t help but smile. “You’re quite accurate, but the redevelopment has already been decided, hasn’t it? Why are you two here today?”

“We’re here to buy some snacks for the old man,” Zhao Pingsheng replied frankly. “It’s because Ah-Shi’s family arranged a blind date for him, and he’s unwilling. He wants to buy snacks to bribe his grandfather and get out of it. But in my opinion, that’s not going to work.”

“Uncle…” Lin Qianshi shoved his hands into his pockets, looking exasperated. “Is it really necessary to talk about this?”

“Of course! Especially since Miss Gu is here. You could ask her to tell your fortune and say you’re not suited for an early marriage. That might help you dodge the issue,” Zhao Pingsheng suggested helpfully.

Gu Xicao looked at Lin Qianshi’s resigned expression and found it amusing. “That won’t work. I call it like I see it. If it turns out you’re suited for a late marriage, I’ll say so directly.”

“I don’t believe in this. Miss Gu, my uncle is just joking with you. Please don’t take it seriously,” Lin Qianshi said, pulling his uncle behind him. “You’ve probably had a long day, so we won’t take up more of your time.”

“Hey, wait!”

Seeing Lin Qianshi about to leave, Zhao Pingsheng quickly stopped him. “Even if you don’t want your fortune told, I still have something to ask Miss Gu. Miss Gu, here’s an invitation. Are you free at the end of the month?”

“I should be free.”

Gu Xicao took the invitation and glanced at it. It was for Lin Qianshi’s birthday banquet. She blinked and waved the card. “Your birthday?”

“No, it’s already passed,” Lin Qianshi admitted honestly. “It’s just an excuse my family came up with to set up a blind date for me.”

“That’s right,” Zhao Pingsheng added. “But it’s not just a matchmaking party. Other heirs and heiresses from wealthy families will be attending too. Miss Gu, you must come. I’ll have something to ask your help with then.”

“Alright, I’ll remember.”

Gu Xicao never refused business that came her way, especially since such parties were also opportunities to hand out her business cards.

As she ascended to her floor, Gu Xicao played with the invitation in her hand.

The elevator doors opened, and before she could step out, she heard Mrs. Lin scolding someone outside. Her words were harsh and venomous, full of insults.

She spat with fury, her voice unrelenting as she cursed, drawing a crowd.

When Gu Xicao stepped out, she noticed that the usually lively mahjong table was quiet. A few neighborhood women were holding Mrs. Lin back, trying to calm her down, while Mrs. Leung and Uncle He were comforting a young girl outside.

Children like Lin Yuan were gathered around, craning their necks to watch the drama.

“Sister!” Lin Yuan was the first to spot Gu Xicao. Carrying his schoolbag, he ran over and looked up at her. “Why are you home so early today?”

“I finished my work quickly, so I came back early,” Gu Xicao replied, ruffling Lin Yuan’s head. She nodded toward Mrs. Leung and asked, “What’s wrong with Mrs. Lin? Who’s she arguing with? Did someone cheat at mahjong?”

“No,” Lin Yuan said, shaking his head as he took her bag. Lowering his voice, he explained, “It’s because Mrs. Lin’s niece was dumped by Uncle Zhang’s son.”

“Uncle Zhang? Which Uncle Zhang?”

At first, Gu Xicao couldn’t recall. Too many people lived in the housing estate, and aside from her immediate neighbors, the rest were hard to remember.

“The one who brags about his son studying at Mahatun University in America,” Lin Yuan reminded her.

Ah, now she remembered.

Gu Xicao tapped Lin Yuan lightly on the head. “That’s called Manhattan University.”

“Yes, that’s it—Manhattan University. His son returned from abroad this morning,” Lin Yuan said, standing on tiptoe as he gossiped. “Mrs. Lin brought her niece to their house to discuss marriage, but Uncle Zhang said his son is a returnee from a prestigious university and can’t marry a textile factory worker.”

Gu Xicao frowned deeply and was about to ask more when she saw a family storming down the stairs.

Leading the group was a man with a buzz cut, thin and wiry but sharp-looking. As soon as he reached the bottom, he pointed at Mrs. Lin and yelled, “Enough! You shrew, I’ve put up with your insults for two hours. That’s enough!”

“Dad, let’s just go home. Why argue with them?”

Behind him, a bespectacled young man, gentle and scholarly in appearance, tried to pull him away. When he noticed others watching, he awkwardly lowered his head and adjusted his glasses.

“Ah-Qing, you’re a college student. What do you know? Some people just take a mile when you give them an inch. We can’t let this slide!” Zhang Wu said forcefully, shaking off his son’s hand. He pointed at Mrs. Lin and scolded, “Mai Cai Lian, let me tell you something. Take a good look in the mirror at your niece. She’s just a seamstress sewing bras. What right does she have to marry my son? My son is an American university graduate. He earns tens of thousands a month. Your niece might not even make that in a year!”

“Go to hell!”

Mrs. Lin was enraged. She shoved past the people holding her back, stepped onto a chair, and shouted at Zhang Wu with spittle flying: “If your son is so great, why did he need to borrow money from us to study abroad? And over the past four years, if it weren’t for my niece sewing bras one by one, would your son have been able to finish university?”

The crowd gasped.

Mrs. Leung was shocked. “No wonder the Zhang family suddenly stopped borrowing money. So it was Mrs. Lin’s niece who funded them.”

Uncle He frowned. “That’s disgraceful. Depending on someone else’s money to finish school and then turning their back on them—that’s worse than a scoundrel.”

Previously, everyone only knew that Mrs. Lin’s niece and Zhang’s son were dating. While they sympathized with Mrs. Lin and her niece over the rejection, many secretly felt that a college graduate from America and a textile worker were indeed mismatched.

But now that the truth was out, the crowd’s disdainful stares turned toward the Zhang family.

Zhang Wu’s face turned red with embarrassment. He snapped, “Money? What money? Just ten-something thousand? Fine, I’ll have my son work and pay it back immediately. But as for marrying my son—dream on!”

“Dad!” Zhang Qing tugged at his father’s arm, trying to stop him from going too far.

“If you call me Dad, you’ll listen to me!” Zhang Wu pointed at his son’s nose and scolded. “That niece of Mai Cai Lian’s—I absolutely forbid you to marry her. She’s just a laborer. What can she do for you? Listen to me, with your qualifications, you can marry anyone. Wealthy families would even want you as their son-in-law. Then we’d all be set for life!”

The crowd’s expressions grew even more disgusted.

While it was natural to want a good life, using others and then discarding them was despicable.

Zhang Qing looked conflicted.

Mrs. Lin’s niece, Lin Peiwen, looked at him tearfully. “Brother Qing, are you really going to do as your father says?”

It was only now that Gu Xicao saw Lin Peiwen clearly. She’d heard of her before—Mrs. Lin often mentioned her niece working at the textile factory, staying in the dormitory to save time.

Mrs. Lin often cooked good meals to bring to her niece, lamenting her hard life and hoping her niece could relax after marrying Zhang’s son.

Lin Peiwen was thin and pale, with a kind of fragile, sickly white skin that came from long hours without sunlight.

Although she was only three or four years older than Gu Xicao, she looked at least seven or eight years older.

Zhang Qing averted his gaze, guilt-ridden. He fidgeted with his trousers and muttered, “Peiwen, don’t make this harder for me. I can’t go against my father’s wishes.”

“That’s more like it. Good boy!”

Zhang Wu, satisfied, declared loudly, “Exactly. A pheasant can’t pair with a phoenix!”