Chapter 66: The Imperius Curse

Consider my ass! Five hundred! Not a single cent less! Sign the new contract by the end of the month, or you can pack your bags and get lost next month! That's final!" With a sharp click, Fatty Wang hung up the phone, leaving behind only a cold, mechanical dial tone.

"Screw your ancestors, Fatty Wang! You bloodsucker! You skinflint! You'll die a miserable death!" Listening to the dial tone, Yang Rui could no longer hold back. He cursed furiously into the empty air, his voice sounding somewhat shrill in the deserted pedestrian street. His chest heaved with rage as he delivered a vicious kick to a roadside trash can, producing a resounding crash that startled a few distant pedestrians.

He slumped dejectedly against the cold brick wall, the winter chill creeping up his spine. Rent, Su Jin, the looming shadow of Hengtai, a bleak and uncertain future... All the pressure weighed down on him like an invisible mountain, making it hard to breathe. He wiped his face, struggling to steady his breathing, and muttered with bitter self-mockery, "Damn it, staying alive is such a bloody exhausting chore..."

Dragging his heavy feet, Yang Rui finally reached his obscure little shop tucked away at the very end of the pedestrian street. Just as he pulled out his key and before he could even insert it into the keyhole, a pungent, cloying wave of cheap perfume assaulted his senses.

"Oh my, could this be Master Yang? I've been waiting ages for you!" a voice dripped with exaggerated sweetness rang out.

Yang Rui frowned and looked up. A woman wearing a tight leopard-print leather skirt, wrapped in cheap faux fur, and sporting makeup so thick and garish that her original features were barely recognizable, was leaning against his shop door, fluttering her eyelashes at him. The overwhelming scent of perfume made his head throb. Having spent years navigating the gritty streets, he spotted her "profession" at a glance—she was nine times out of ten an "employee" from one of the nearby hair salons or massage parlors.

An instinctive wave of disgust welled up in his chest. But remembering how the landlord had just fleeced him, and thinking of his empty pockets, Yang Rui forcefully swallowed down that aversion. Even a mosquito's leg is meat! He had no reason to turn away business that walked right up to his door.

His expression instantly shifted into a professional, inscrutable mask. He gave a slight nod and pushed open the door. "Please come in, uh... Madam? What would you like to consult?"

The woman sashayed in behind him, unceremoniously taking a seat on the only relatively clean chair. Crossing her legs, she revealed legs wrapped in black silk stockings. "Master, could you read my physiognomy? Tell me what my fortune looks like this year! Especially... my wealth and romantic luck!" As she spoke, she flashed another heavily suggestive wink.

Suppressing a strong urge to roll his eyes, Yang Rui sat down across from her and put on a solemn, studious air as he scrutinized her face. A narrow forehead with a vertical line between the eyebrows—mostly caused by her own constant frowning; her eyes held the watery glint of peach blossoms yet looked turbid and bloated; a low bridge of the nose with exposed nostrils, indicating wealth that arrives easily but slips away just as easily; thin lips with bright, gaudy coloring... It was a classic physiognomy of overexertion, a bumpy romantic path, and an inability to accumulate riches, compounded by a lingering malevolent aura.

He cleared his throat and began his pitch: "Well... Madam, judging by your physiognomy... your celestial court is insufficiently full, suggesting early-life fortunes may encounter obstacles. However, your philtrum is clear, so your later years might see a turning point. As for your current aura... forgive my bluntness, but your romantic tribulation is quite severe! You are surrounded by baleful peach blossoms, making you prone to gossip, disputes, and even... bloodshed! Furthermore, your palace of wealth is leaking; while your income may seem substantial on the surface, money slips right through your hands, making accumulation difficult..."

As he spoke, he watched the woman's reaction. Sure enough, hearing the words "romantic tribulation," "bloodshed," and "leaking wealth," the seductive smile faltered on her face, and a genuine flicker of panic crossed her eyes.

"Ah? Then... then what should I do, Master? You simply must help me!" She leaned forward, her tone turning urgent.

Inwardly, Yang Rui rejoiced, knowing the fish had taken the bait. He stroked a non-existent beard and assumed an even more enigmatic posture. "Do not panic. Severe though this baleful aura is, it is not without a remedy. One must use metal implements to suppress the malevolent energy, and water methods to gather wealth. I happen to have here a consecrated, blessed pure silver Pixiu bracelet, which is supreme for subduing romantic tribulations and attracting windfall wealth. Combined with a bottle of specially formulated 'Wealth-Gathering Water,' if you spray it every morning in the wealth corner of your residence and upon yourself, it will lock in financial fortune and dissolve the disaster of leaking wealth. Used together, the effect is peerless."

As he spoke, he retrieved a fairly decent-looking brocade box from beneath the counter. Inside lay a silver-plated chain bought from the wholesale market at three for ten yuan, alongside a cheap glass spray bottle filled with tap water, bearing a printed label that read "Divine Wealth-Gathering Water."

"These two items, Master... how much?" The woman looked at the two "divine artifacts," her eyes darting uncertainly.

"Seeing as you are sincere, Madam, and this is my first transaction of the day, let us forge a good affinity," Yang Rui said, holding up two fingers. "The Pixiu bracelet is eight hundred, the wealth water is three hundred, making a total of eleven hundred! I guarantee your baleful energy will disperse, wealth will roll in, and flowers of romance will bloom for you!"

The woman picked up the "pure silver" Pixiu bracelet to inspect it, then weighed the bottle of "divine water" in her hand. The panic on her face gradually gave way to a calculating, mercantile shrewdness. She suddenly let out a coy laugh. "Oh, my! You are so accurate, Master! I have indeed felt a bit down on my luck lately! However... I left in such a hurry today that I didn't bring that much cash." She slowly placed the bracelet and the "divine water" back onto the table and stood up. "How about this? I'll leave these items with you for now. In a couple of days, when my... well, when my 'business' picks up a bit, I'll come back and pick them up! And I'll bring you the money then. Thank you for your guidance, Master!"

Before Yang Rui could react, she swayed her hips, trailing that clinging, pungent perfume, and swept out of the shop like a gust of wind, vanishing in the blink of an eye down the dim end of the pedestrian street.

The inscrutable expression instantly collapsed on Yang Rui's face. He stared dumbfoundedly at the two "artifacts" on the table, then glanced toward the empty doorway.

"I... damn it!" A massive wave of grievance and humiliation from being played rushed straight to his head. He slammed his palm down on the table so hard that the bottle of "Wealth-Gathering Water" rattled, "A losing transaction! I didn't even make a damn cent, not even enough to cover my own spit! I wasted half a day talking my head off! What kind of world is this?! Even... even these 'professional players' have learned to dine and dash?!"

He beat his chest in frustration, pointing toward the mouth of the alley, wishing he could chase after her to curse her out. "You... you get back here! Pay for the physiognomy reading! What I provided was a facial analysis, not your damn customer service consultation!"

Just as he stood facing the empty alley, lamenting in grief and indignation that "public morals are degenerating day by day" while spitting flying curses—

"Heh..."

A sound—extremely faint, extremely cold, carrying undisguised mockery and derision—abruptly drifted from behind him, echoing from the deepest, shadowed corner of the shop piled high with clutter and debris!

The chuckle was not loud, yet it felt like a cold steel needle, instantly piercing through all of Yang Rui's anger and wailing, driving straight into the back of his skull!

Yang Rui froze stiff all over! His blood seemed to congeal at that exact moment! A rush of cold air exploded from his tailbone, sweeping through his entire body in an instant! With the mechanical stiffness of a rusted machine, his neck creaked as he turned his head inch by inch!

The instant he saw the person standing there, the soul was nearly scared right out of his body, and his reflex was to pack up his things and bolt! Yet a single sentence from the other person fell like a spell of immense weight, nailing him firmly to the spot, his legs as heavy as lead, unable to move even half a step away.