"Hey, have you heard the rumor? There's a famous fortune-telling shop in Shaanxi."
"Fortune-telling? Isn't that sorcery?"
"Oh, come on. By that logic, is the divination done by the shamans of the Wudang Sect or the Taoist priests of Kunlun sorcery too?"
"No, that's different..."
"And even if it is sorcery, so what? Are we gonna lose anything? It's just fortune-telling."
"...Fair enough. So, is this fortune-teller really that good?"
"Extremely good, from what I hear. Like a ghost or something. Birth charts, love luck, whether business will go well, what to do if you can't have kids... they nail everything like a pair of tongs."
"Sounds like they've even got a nickname by now."
"Ah, yeah, they do... What was it again..."
"Faceless Golden Ghost...?"
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*Ding-a-ling*
"Welcome... Oh, it's you."
"You look disappointed it's not a paying customer."
"Of course I'd prefer a customer. But I'm not unhappy to see you or anything. You're the benefactor who helps me make ends meet like this. And you're the only one I can really open up to."
He lowered his gaze from Dang Ayoung and swept the floor with the broom.
"I hear you're doing really well these days. The Faceless Golden Ghost—your name's spreading far and wide."
"A nickname with 'ghost' in it isn't exactly flattering, is it?"
"Then why'd you have to love money so much?"
Faceless Golden Ghost.
It was the nickname I'd earned in the half-year since arriving in Shaanxi and opening this fortune-telling shop.
At first, I thought, who gives a fortune-teller a nickname like that? But later I learned there's no special reason for these things.
The people of the Central Plains just love making them up. Once you get a bit famous, all sorts of nicknames stick.
'A ghost that loves money and has no face...'
It fit perfectly, actually.
No one knew my face, and yeah, I did love money.
"Still, calling a living person a ghost? Even if you use sorcery, you're clearly alive."
"Why? Isn't that what sets you apart from the others? A fortune-telling shop read by a ghost. Sounds fun, right?"
Thinking of it that way, it didn't seem so bad.
As long as no martial artist misunderstood and came to 'exterminate' me thinking I was a real ghost, it might even be a decent nickname.
"No one's seen their face, and they don't even know if it's a man or a woman... They love money like crazy but blow most of it at taverns every night on booze and gambling... That's the rumor."
"Word gets around."
"Some say there's a ridiculously handsome young master inside, or a nation-toppling beauty. It's a huge topic. I heard some miser even put a bounty on anyone who can identify your face."
No wonder some gamblers at the tables started offering to reveal my face instead of money.
I turned them down flat and just played for cash instead.
"Who's this guy putting bounties on other people's faces?"
"Someone with a bad reputation. Famous as a playboy who lures women with money, spends one night, and tosses them aside."
...He doesn't actually believe there's a beauty inside, does he?
"Tell him there's an ugly bastard in here."
"What... Even if you say that, no guarantee he'll back off. The surefire way is for you to show everyone what you're hiding under that Bloodstained Cloak..."
"No way."
Showing my face was out of the question.
She'd been sneaking peeks at the inside of my cloak from way back. No chance.
"Not even for ten million gold."
Even if I could make a quick fortune, the headaches afterward would be worse.
I had no plans to take it off until I returned to Master's mountain within the next three years.
"What's under there that you're so precious about?"
"I told you. I'm hideously ugly."
"You smell..."
"Come to think of it, I did drink a lot yesterday. Did the booze soak into my clothes?"
Having lived with Master, I knew how scary women's intuition could be, but a chill still ran down my spine.
What smell? Where's that coming from?
*Squish squish*
As I pondered how to shake off this leech of a woman,
*Knock knock*
"Um... Is anyone inside?"
"Oh, come on in, customer!"
Salvation had arrived.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The customers were prettier women than expected—women, plural.
"Whoa... You really can't see inside that cloak at all... Amazing."
"Told you. Even focusing inner energy in my eyes, nothing. Believe me now?"
"...Excuse me, customers. There is a viewing fee."
"A viewing fee too?"
"Yes... Ever since those customers came before, stared only at the Bloodstained Cloak without getting a reading, and left... I added a viewing fee."
Two of the women were from unknown affiliations, but one was clearly identifiable.
*Glare*
She eyed me unpleasantly, her pristine white martial robes embroidered with plum blossoms on the sleeves.
Mount Hua Sect.
Not as much as Wudang or Kunlun, but since they were Taoists too, they didn't seem to like this sorcery toying with heavenly secrets.
I'd met Mount Hua people a few times before, and they usually reacted the same way.
"How much for viewing?"
"Ten silver taels per half hour. Per person, by the way."
"Why so expensive?!"
"It means don't just sightsee—get a reading and go. Readings are cheaper."
For reference, a single reading cost two silver taels.
A bit pricey, but not unaffordable. This wasn't casual entertainment like back on Earth; it had real utility.
Two silver taels to know your future and prepare? A bargain.
Folks around here were martial artists with money to spare.
'I'd love to aim for a big score sometime.'
But steady income like this—enough for fun without being extravagant—was safer than chasing a jackpot.
And opportunities for that jackpot would come eventually.
Like right now.
"...I have no intention of getting a reading from you."
The woman in Mount Hua robes spoke with clear displeasure.
'Then why come to a fortune-telling shop?'
This was why I hated Taoists.
I wasn't monopolizing heavenly secrets or anything. I was just earning a living with a skill I worked hard for. But no: 'How dare you use sorcery mocking heavenly secrets to make money?!' Not the first time.
"Understood. Then just pay the viewing fee for that short time, miss... And you two..."
"Don't push your sorcery on my friends."
"...Will you two just pay the viewing fee and leave?"
"No... Um, that's..."
"Forget it. Don't look at this stuff."
The Mount Hua woman cut off her fidgeting friends and tossed something at me.
Wondering what it was, I looked...
"...Oh."
A silver ingot.
Worth dozens of silver taels each.
Today's business was already a profit, even if I closed now.
"If you really want a reading, I'll ask another Taoist. Don't touch this sorcery. Let's go."
"Y-yeah..."
As I grinned inside my cloak, the woman led her friends out.
And right before leaving,
"Faceless Golden Ghost."
"?"
She stood at the door and called me.
"You should stop mocking people with that sorcery."
Just picking a fight, huh.
But who am I?
The Faceless Golden Ghost.
"Farewell!"
And customers who boost sales are kings.
You see off a king when they leave, right?
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"Whoa... A silver ingot... It's been forever..."
I placed it on the table and fiddled with it.
"Hah..."
How many drinks would this buy...?
Couldn't I order those pricey things I usually skip?
Lost in happy thoughts,
"...You don't seem upset at all."
Dang Ayoung emerged from hiding in the tent's back, aura concealed.
"That woman in the plum blossom Taoist robes? Mount Hua Sect, plain as day. Didn't she come to pick a fight? She comes to a fortune shop but refuses a reading, just pays the viewing fee and leaves?"
"Huh? So what?"
"...So what? Doesn't that hurt your pride?"
"I made money without working. Pride over profit?"
Not pocket change—an ingot, no less.
More than a full day's sales during peak times, in under fifteen minutes.
"...Now I get why 'Golden Ghost' is in your nickname."
"I told you I don't like it."
"You don't like it, but you perked up the second she called you Faceless Golden Ghost."
"Customers who pay big are kings. When the king calls, you answer, whatever the name."
"...You're something else, in all sorts of ways."
Why? You wouldn't get it with all your money, but some of us have to scrape and save just to play hard.
Half a year gone already.
"Guess I worried for nothing, thinking you might be offended. If I'd just shown myself, they'd have been trembling."
"Maybe those two, but Mount Hua too?"
"...You don't recognize me?"
"? Dang Ayoung, right? Daughter of the Tang Clan of Sichuan."
"...That's it?"
"What else? Got a nickname or something?"
"Hah..."
Why? What?
Spell it out already.
It took quite some time that day for me to learn that the offended Dang Ayoung departing was one of the Murim's top later-generation talents, bearing the nickname Phoenix.