The temple fair in Qinghe County was packed with people like dumplings, and the gongs and drums were beating loudly.
Lin Wanzhao sat in front of a simple hexagram stall, eating melon seeds when he was bored.
Her small and delicate face clearly said "Don't bother me". But her title as "the number one Fuwa in Qinghe County" is so well-known that it's hard not to attract attention.
"Miss Lin, tell me your fortune! See if I can sell this batch of goods at a good price!" A bearded vendor squeezed in front of her, smiling as brightly as a big morning glory.
Lin Wanzhao sighed and thought to himself: What group of people are these?
She waved her hand and said feebly: "Brother Liu, let me tell you, this batch of goods of yours has been backlogged for half a year, and it will get moldy if you leave it any longer! In my opinion, it's better to get rid of it by lowering the price."
When the vendor heard this, his face turned green: "No, Miss Lin! This is my ancestral treasure. If the price is lowered, I will have to drink the northwest wind!"
