Page 3 of Never Ever After

More likely he’s taken up with a new mistress, but she doesn’t want to hear that. “Do you have a token of your husband’s?”

As she hands me a fat circlet of jade, I rub it between my fingers like I’m thinking hard, fighting the temptation to slip it into my waistband. When I return the ring, the customer’s necklace is gone, tucked in Mistress Henglan’s pouch.

“He’s not possessed.” The honest part of my prediction. “But his spirits are burdened by an outside influence. Put away what money you can for safekeeping; it will come in useful one day.” Useful for her when he installs a concubine in the household.

She nods, sitting straighter. As she leaves, a girl takes her place on the stool. Business is brisk this morning. Mistress Henglan’s smile widens as she ushers in customer after customer, each leaving with their purse a little lighter, missing a trinket or two. Regardless of my lies, I try to advise them well. I tell a man the woman he likes doesn’t match his horoscope when she clearly prefers another. I advise a mother with a screaming child to keep sweets from her diet, and an old man to reconcile with his brother whom he’s still mad at, though he’s forgotten why. Most of what I say is gleaned from listening to the other fortune tellers or the chatter on the street. Small things, gravely spoken, embellished with enough detail to give them color.

At last, there is a break between customers. I take a long drink from the waterskin, my voice having grown hoarse. Mistress Henglan wanders to where a game of dice is underway. I breathe easier when she’s gone, though I hope she won’t lose too much. At this hour, the market is crowded. Children carry skewers of candied fruit, villagers huddle on benches as they slurp up bowls of noodles, some chewing sesame pancakes. I reach for the stale bread in my pouch, but release it when I remember the tax we owe.

As I scan the crowd for another customer, my gaze falls upon a young man. His eyes are the clear brown of freshly steeped tea, his black hair framing his tanned face. It’s cut short, unlike those here who wear it pulled high or in a topknot. And he is handsome, maybe more so than Farmer Lan’s son, whom many here stare at. I cast the distracting thought aside. More importantly, this stranger is rich with his fine garments, the jade-studded belt around his waist, the bulging pouch hanging from it. I wait till his eyes flick to mine, then give him my most knowing look, my mouth curved into a half smile. He appears too assured to be a typical customer, but perhaps I can distract him long enough to steal something of worth.

He approaches, angling his head to one side as he towers over me. “A fortune teller,” he says. “How good are you?”

“Most of my customers leave happy.” My smile feels stitched on, his tone setting me on edge. “Would you like your fortune read, sir?”

A mirthless slant of his lips. “Can you read it?”

“As well as you can read the sign on my table.”

“How old are you?”

“Does it matter?” I reply a trace curtly. He acts like a lord, like he’s far more knowledgeable than me, though he looks only a few years older.

He doesn’t leave as I expect but sits down on the stool. His eyes go to the moles on my forehead. “Those aren’t well painted. Is this even your skin color?”

My hands fist in my lap. How did I ever think he was handsome? “I was born this way.”

“You sound offended.”

“Wouldn’t you be if I asked whether you borrowed the clothes you’re wearing?” I lift my head, searching the crowd for an easier prospect than this time-waster.

“What is your fee for a palm reading?” he asks. “Today, I’m bored enough to test your ‘gift.’”

“Three pieces of silver.” He is wealthy and condescending; I feel no remorse in cheating him. The fruit vendor beside me snorts but covers it with a cough. He’ll not betray me, just as I kept silent earlier when he charged a haughty customer twice the usual price. The tax of the ill-mannered.

“A high fee for a village fortune teller.”

“If you can’t afford it—”

“I can. It’s whether I think you’re worth it.”

My patience snaps. “If you won’t pay, then leave.”

He pulls out six pieces of silver, placing them before me. Is this to flaunt his wealth? My pulse quickens as my gaze darts to the dice table, checking that Mistress Henglan isn’t looking our way—then I swiftly scoop up the silver and tuck it into my waistband. Let him be a fool; I’ll take what I can.

He lays his hand on the crate, his fingers callused at their tips. “Will I find what I’m looking for in these mountains?”

Despite his generosity, the desire to thwart him remains. I’ll tell a good fortune… one he deserves. I brush my fingers over his palm, peering closely at it. “The stars are aligned in your favor today,” I begin in my most solemn voice.

“How do you know when you’re staring at my hand instead of the sky?” he counters.

“Don’t listen if you wish, but I won’t return your silver.” I’m trying not to grit my teeth. “What you seek lies just a day’s walk away, past the low hills north of here, and through the bamboo forest.” Right into the bog of stagnant water, stinking of mud and rot.

“You mean the marshlands?”

I blink, caught off guard. I thought he was a visitor, unfamiliar with the area. “Go beyond there,” I improvise, eager to send him as far away as possible. Far enough that by the time he returns, I’ll be long gone. “You’ll see a hill with violet flowers. Climb it, and once you’re close to the top—”

“You are the most precise fortune teller I’ve ever met,” he interjects.