“Knowledge of five hundred years past, five hundred years hence, fortunes told and futures foretold—by none other than the great Bai Half-Immortal!”
Amid the bustling crowd, a ragged flag with the words “Bai Half-Immortal” fluttered at the corner of the street. A person with a pasted-on mustache, a tattered hat, and a fan was enthusiastically promoting her services. Beside her stood a young boy in humble clothes, holding a battered iron bowl with a dutiful expression. It was none other than Bai Shuo and her disciple, Fan Yue.
The two had left Miao Miao and enjoyed a few carefree days of food, drink, and entertainment—but those days didn’t last long.
Bai Shuo had never been a proper immortal, nor had she ever left Miao Miao. She didn’t know that in the immortal realm, outside of the sacred mountains and blessed lands, one needed spirit pearls to pay for every mundane need.
As a half-immortal, she hadn’t yet truly entered the path of immortality. She was just a mortal with a longer lifespan. There was no way she could survive by sleeping in the wild and foraging every day. Even if she could live such a simple life, she couldn’t subject her precious young disciple to such hardship.
After nearly half a month of wandering, Bai Shuo finally devised a way to make a living. Before leaving Miao Miao, she had raided the herb hut and snuck off with two old turtle shells hidden under Old Turtle’s bed. Originally, she planned to use them as medicinal ingredients, but she discovered that they could predict fortunes. In Nan Hai City, the largest city in the immortal realm, Bai Shuo, who loved lively places, rented a small courtyard and set up a fortune-telling business with Fan Yue.
Interestingly, few immortals in the realm practiced fortune-telling. Only ancient spirit turtles and deities were truly skilled in divination, for fortune-telling came at the cost of one’s lifespan. Entering this trade meant sacrificing a long life—a price that most immortals, eager to extend their lives by hundreds of years, weren’t willing to pay. Therefore, anyone who set up a fortune-telling stall in the immortal realm was almost guaranteed to be a fraud.
Bai Shuo had no idea how rare this trade was, and her stall saw few visitors at first. She didn’t even earn a single autumn breeze. One day, however, when Fan Yue brought her food, a half-immortal woman sat down, captivated by Fan Yue’s appearance. Seeing this, Bai Shuo made her young disciple the face of the business, having him hold a worn bowl as a “living signboard.”
From that day on, Bai Half-Immortal’s stall became the most popular attraction in Nan Hai City. Most of the visitors were female immortals, who, while pretending to seek love advice, were more interested in the charming young boy who stood so obediently by Bai Shuo’s side.
Though Bai Shuo’s old turtle shells couldn’t actually foretell romantic fates, the customers didn’t seem to mind. Their real intent was to try to woo the handsome and obedient young disciple. Thanks to Bai Shuo’s strict principles, however, no one could do more than look; no matter the price, they could only admire him from afar. This principled approach didn’t earn her much—just enough spirit pearls to cover three to five meals a day for herself and her disciple.
As the sun set, Bai Shuo, seeing there were no more customers, scooped three spirit pearls from the bowl and placed them in her storage pouch, nodding to the boy. “Good disciple, let’s close up shop!”
Fan Yue immediately tied the bowl to his waist, packed up the stall, and slung it over his shoulder with practiced ease.
“Let’s go.” With a snap of her fingers, Bai Shuo led her young disciple away.
“Well, Daoist Bai, heading home early today?” called out a nearby shopkeeper.
“That’s right! It’s a chilly day, and all the girls are staying in, so business was slow. I’ll come back early tomorrow,” Bai Shuo replied cheerfully, her face lighting up for everyone she passed. The half-immortals making a living in the streets rather liked the lively pair of master and disciple.
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