A Prophet - Chapter 1 (Part 2)

Chapter 2 - First Time Telling Fortunes

My first time hooking a roe deer was two months after I joined the faction. Because I was a novice, working the pitches inside the city was not allowed; Grandfather arranged for a small nearby village called Anjia Village. Grandfather said that because I was chubby and had small eyes, I could roll my eyes upward and pretend to be blind, so that the other party's psychological guard wouldn't be as strong. I later realized that this first field run didn't amount to much at all; at best, it was a "test of the waters," far removed from Grandfather's major setups that raked in hundreds of silver dollars at a time! I took a bamboo pole and swaggered into the village, and the first few households I went to chased me right out. Finally, a family agreed to let me sit down and speak; it was an old woman at home by herself. The old woman was around sixty years old, her face covered in wrinkles, and she ushered me into the house, repeating over and over: "Step carefully, step carefully, let me get you a stool." My heart felt quite uneasy at the time, because her eyesight was clearly better than mine. The old woman also poured me a cup of water, and when I took it, I noticed her hands were covered in splits and extremely rough, like tree bark. That suddenly reminded me of my late mother. My mother had died of tuberculosis the previous year, and her hands looked just like this old woman's! My heart softened a bit, but I immediately thought of Grandfather's eyes and the mission the regional boss had given me.

The old woman asked with concern, "So young and you're already out doing this kind of work?"

I rolled my eyes: "Auntie, I've been blind since childhood, and I follow my master in divination. My eyes are blind, but my heart is clear."

The old woman said, "Right! Right! Right! Such a good child."

I said, "Well, I don't have any other skills, I only know how to cast a single divination. Auntie, who are you divination for? Is it for yourself?"

The old woman said no: "Not for me. I'm someone with one foot in the grave already, no need to divine for me. Take a look at my son for me, and see how he's been doing these past couple of years. Does he have any hurdles or disasters coming?"

Her words directly revealed that her son must not have been doing well these past couple of years, and moreover, her voice was trembling as she spoke.

I said, "Auntie, you must tell me your son's birth date—what year, what month, what day, and at what hour?"

Actually, this was all an act; how to pitch and what to say afterward had already been thought out long ago! After the old woman reported her son's eight characters of birth, I began pinching my fingers to calculate, and while rolling my eyes upward, I watched the old woman waiting anxiously.

"Auntie, your son's destiny element is Water, and these past two years have clashed with Grand Duke Jupiter, making things rather unpropitious."

Having said this, I waited for her to speak and see how she would respond. According to the rules, it is basically an affirmative answer; even if she denied it, it wouldn't matter. I would say, "These past two years" also includes today—today has just begun and hasn't ended yet—and if she denied it, I would say it won't be seen until the second half of the year.

As a result, the old woman sighed and said, "Yes, that's true."

I immediately said, "Auntie, this son of yours is a filial son!"

This phrase hits the mark nearly a hundred percent of the time, because parents almost always give ten parts of affection to their children while children return one part, yet parents always feel their children are filial. Furthermore, unfilial children are naturally a minority; if her son were an ungrateful, unfaithful wolf with white eyes, she wouldn't be this distressed, nor would she be having her son's fortune told.

The old woman shed tears: "That's right, my son is so good to me. He's tall, capable, and filial."

Seeing tears well up in the old woman's eyes, I continued, "He has been struck by the roaming horse star these past two years!"

The old woman asked, "What star?"

I said loudly, "The roaming horse star means running around east and west, exhausting and bitter work!"

In that era, who didn't run around east and west just to make a living!

The old woman's tears fell patter-patter: "Yes, he was conscripted into the army last year, and to this day we don't know whether he's dead or alive!"

Seeing the old woman cry, I unexpectedly started crying too, though I didn't know whether I was crying for her or for myself. Seeing that I was crying, the old woman took a dirty handkerchief and, while crying, wiped my face for me, saying, "Child, don't cry. Child, don't cry."

I said, "Auntie, I feel miserable for you."

The old woman said, "Such a good child, such a good child."

I said, "Auntie, your son has reached a difficult pass right now. It's very dangerous."

The old woman said in terror, "What is it? Is he still alive?"

I said, "Alive he is alive, but those bullets on the battlefield don't have eyes. This disaster of his must be averted, otherwise he won't come back!"

The old woman turned pale with fright: "Quickly help avert it! How do we avert it?"

I said, "You take a piece of red cloth and write your son's name on it. At twelve o'clock tonight, tie it to a puppet tree, and say, 'Grand puppet tree, puppet tree, my son recognizes you as his godmother and protects my son from getting hurt.' Then kowtow three times, and when you return, cover the chicken coop with the red cloth. Auntie, you must remember this clearly."

The more realistically disaster-aversion is spoken, the better. Methods like recognizing a giant tree as a godmother or river water as a godfather are common tactics used by fortune-tellers.

The old woman said, "Will this keep him safe and sound?"

I said, "Auntie, that's not enough. Your son has killed too many people on the battlefield, and they will also come to claim his life."

The old woman began to worry again: "Then what should we do?"

I said, "You must do more good deeds on his behalf. Do more good deeds, for good brings good rewards!"

The old woman said, "Right! Right! Right! The child speaks correctly! How do I help him do that?"

I said, "You donate some incense money on his behalf, and I'll help you deliver it to the temple. Since I've leaked heavenly secrets, I must also help donate. Once the donation is made, everything will be fine, and by next spring at the latest, your son will return!"

The old woman's face broke into a smile, and she happily went back inside the house, emerging after a long while with two "large white strips."

"Large white strips" was the nickname for fiat currency. Because of inflation, it was utterly worthless!

I said, "Auntie, your money can't be spent outside anymore; many places don't recognize it. I have no way to give this as incense money for you—we cannot deceive the Buddha."

The old woman said awkwardly, "Oh, I still have a few copper coins."

Saying this, she went back inside the house again. Following Grandfather's teachings, silver dollars and copper coins were accepted without exception; keeping hard currency in hand meant that no matter how the Kuomintang reformed the currency, it wouldn't matter. I took the copper coins and saw there were only three.

I said, "Auntie, if you really don't have any, forget it! I'll pay it on your behalf."

The old woman hastily said, "That won't do, that won't do, child, wait right here, I still have a few inches of uncut cloth."

The old woman rummaged inside the house for a good while and brought out a roll of blue cloth from the bottom of her chest—the kind of dyed blue cloth used in the countryside for quilt covers.

I said, "Auntie, this will do. I'll donate it all on your behalf."

The old woman beamed from ear to ear: "I am so indebted to this child, so indebted to this child."

After saying this, she even saw me out of her courtyard gate, and then said slowly, "Child, walk carefully—there is a well at the village entrance."

I said, "I know, Auntie."

Holding my crutch, I put on a show of running out of the village, running and crying all the way. The harvest from this first field run was meager. Aside from those two negligible "large white strips," there was only a few inches of cloth and three copper coins. But it was still more than what the other two novices hooked; of those two, one didn't hook a single thing and even got cursed out by someone, while the other, afraid of Grandfather and the regional bosses' reprimands, actually stole an iron hammer used as a pillar prop from someone's garden and brought it back to report for duty.

Grandfather said, "We are physiognomers, not thieves! If you run an empty pitch, come back empty. Stealing chickens and dogs is not allowed!"

The little foot was so frightened he immediately dropped to his knees to admit his fault.

Grandfather called out: "Second Regional Boss!"

The Second Regional Boss immediately stepped forward and knelt: "Grandfather!"

Grandfather said, "Your foot—you must manage him well!"

The roar left the Second Regional Boss covered in sweat. Every time we returned from a field run, we had to report in detail: first, to tally the roe deer, and second, to avoid overlapping pitches next time. Every regional boss had to keep accounts, but none of them exceeded the accounts kept in Grandfather's head.

Grandfather's mind was meticulous. After the faction meeting ended, he kept me behind alone.

Grandfather said, "Your heart softened."

I thought to myself: "How did he know?"

Grandfather said, "You cried."

I said, "Yes, because she was too pitiful."

Grandfather said, "Pitiful? Do you think I'm pitiful?"

I stared blankly at Grandfather, not understanding what he meant.

Grandfather said, "I am even more pitiful! Every day with dozens of guns pointed at my head, if you step on the wrong line, people die!"

Grandfather was right; to be an Abao who could survive in any given place, the key figures of both the black and white worlds in that place had to be won over. Monthly tributes were indispensable, and during transitions from old to new regimes, double shares had to be sent. Because these people not only guaranteed your safety, but could also help you set up scams when necessary. As long as the spoils were divided properly, they would even sell out their own biological fathers. High-ranking Kuomintang officials, Shanghai tycoons, and even Song Meiling—there was no scheme they didn't dare to plot. Small setups could be executed on the spot, while major setups might take months or even years to deploy, but the harvest from a major setup was also extremely enticing; pulling off a single major setup was often enough to cover the entire faction's expenses for several years.