Seeking Trouble on One’s Own

When Jin Yulian returned with me, she was clearly in low spirits, obviously troubled by the words of the fortune-teller. I could only continue to comfort her, telling her that the fortune-teller was just a swindler, spinning mysterious tales that could never be relied upon.

Jin Yulian managed a bitter smile. “Sometimes fortune-tellers are con artists, but sometimes they’re surprisingly accurate. I have a feeling that this Master Gu Song might have really hit the mark.”

I laughed. “Don’t trouble yourself over it. According to Master Gu Song, I can help you solve your company’s problems—but how could that be possible?”

After a moment’s thought, Jin Yulian said, “Today you saved that beautiful woman’s life. She clearly took a liking to you. Maybe she could help you. Why don’t you try to find her?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yulian, you’re overthinking it. I don’t even have her phone number. In a sea of people, what are the odds of running into her again?”

Jin Yulian said, “Are you blaming me for not letting you take her number?”

I pulled her into my arms. “Yulian, you’re the only one in my heart. Why can’t you believe that? I’ll go see if I can help you resolve the company’s problems. Let’s see if this Master Gu Song’s predictions are accurate.”

Truth be told, all men want to prove their abilities, especially in front of the woman they love. I didn’t want Jin Yulian or her friends to look down on me, to think I was just living off her. I needed to make something of myself, to prove my worth.

I hadn’t had much confidence at first, but after hearing what Master Gu Song said, I found it amusing and decided to give it a try. After all, everyone dreams of a miracle happening in their life—like suddenly deciding to buy a lottery ticket and imagining they might win the grand prize.

I’ve read the legends about Zhao Kuangyin. They say he was a good-for-nothing in his youth, but after having his fortune read, the master told him he had the face of an emperor and should head north to join the army, where he would surely achieve greatness. Inspired, Zhao Kuangyin did just that, eventually establishing his own dynasty.

Of course, that’s just a legend. But there was a real luminary who once said, “You must have dreams—what if they come true?”

In truth, fortune-telling is really just a way to boost your own confidence—like wanting to make a fortune but lacking the faith, so you go to a fortune-teller for advice. When they tell you you’ll get rich, your confidence swells and you become more eager to put in the effort. Usually, fortune-tellers start by describing difficulties or disasters you’ll face, then suggest there’s a turning point ahead if you follow their advice. Their words are always vague enough for you to interpret them however you want, so regardless of whether their predictions come true, you’ll find some meaning in them.

Women, in particular, tend to believe in these things. Men, being more straightforward, usually just brush it off. Seeing Jin Yulian so downcast, I teased her for bringing trouble upon herself—if she hadn’t gone for a fortune-telling, she wouldn’t be so worried now.

Jin Yulian replied, “How could I not be troubled? The company’s problems aren’t solved, and I’m always anxious about it.” Hearing this, I said, “All right, I’ll try to help you clear out the company’s inventory!” She nodded her agreement, still half-believing, half-doubting the fortune-teller’s words.

At noon, we grabbed a quick bite at a fast-food place. Jin Yulian decided to return to the office, and I didn’t go with her; my presence would only lower her status and invite ridicule.

I shined my shoes, put on my suit, and dressed myself up as best I could. Taking up my black briefcase, I hopped on a bus headed for Mingzhou.

It takes about an hour to ride the bus from Qingxi County to downtown Mingzhou, with a fare of two yuan. The newly opened subway would have taken only half an hour for seven yuan, but since I was unfamiliar with the subway, I stuck with the traditional bus—it felt more comfortable.

Sitting on the bus, I was in high spirits and even took out my iPhone to film a video. Unexpectedly, I ended up provoking a fat woman seated in front of me, who publicly embarrassed me.

She sneered, “Young man, stop pretending. If you were really wealthy, you’d be driving a luxury car, not taking the bus.”

I bristled. “Whether I’m pretending or not is none of your business!”

The fat woman shot to her feet and jabbed her pudgy finger at my nose. “How is it none of my business? You filmed me with your phone, that’s an invasion of privacy. You may look well-dressed, but to think you’re actually a pervert filming women in secret!”

With her shouting, everyone on the bus turned to glare at me as if I truly were some kind of pervert. Furious, I snapped, “You pig! Don’t slander me. With your looks, who would want to film you?”

She pressed on, aggressive as ever. “Don’t deny it—hand over your phone so I can check.”

Now truly incensed, I retorted, “Like hell I will! Who do you think you are, demanding to check my phone?”

The fat woman bellowed, “Everyone, look—he refuses to let me check his phone. He must have secretly filmed me and is feeling guilty. Driver, take this man to the police station!”

I thought to myself, damn it, when bad luck strikes, even drinking cold water makes you choke. Who’d have thought I’d get into such pointless trouble just by riding a bus? To avoid further entanglement, I handed my phone to a bespectacled young woman nearby, letting her act as a neutral party and prove my innocence.

The young woman in glasses opened my photo album and found that all my pictures were of the scenery outside the bus—no people in them at all. She explained this to the fat woman, who still wouldn’t relent, insisting the photos be deleted before she’d let it go.

Left with no choice, I asked the girl in glasses to delete the photos for me. As she was doing so, she noticed my photos of foreign trade stock products. Her expression brightened. “Where did you take these photos?”

I replied casually, “These are surplus foreign trade goods from a company. I took the pictures to see if I could help sell the inventory.”

Her interest piqued immediately. “Your company produces export garments?”

I nodded. “A friend’s company produced a batch of export clothing, and I’m helping her find buyers.”