Chapter 17: I am telling you, this divorce is happening!

Su Chen slipped twenty yuan into his pocket, then took out the small wooden figure, gave it a gentle touch, and tucked it back in before smiling at A Biao.

“Auntie’s husband has been seeing several mistresses outside; one of them is even pregnant!”

A Biao’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“No way? That scoundrel?”

Su Chen nodded emphatically.

He had thought the original owner was already despicable enough, but there was always someone worse.

With that thought, he stood up. “Biao, I’m going to Grandma’s place for a bit.”

Last night, after carving the little figure, he had guided the spirit from the paper doll into it. He needed to show Yingying.

“Go ahead, I’ll watch your stall. If anyone comes, I’ll call you.”

“Alright.”

At Grandma’s, Cai Zhengqing was still draped in his robe, shaking a bell as he performed his rites. When he turned and saw Su Chen, he paused momentarily but quickly resumed his muttering while pacing the Seven-Star Steps.

Quite the strong mental composure.

Su Chen smiled and stepped forward.

Zhang Qiang greeted him warmly, “The master is here?”

Liu Tao and Yu Dingqiang also chimed in with their greetings.

Footsteps sounded inside, and Lin Jingyu emerged carrying a large bowl. He opened his mouth to speak but abruptly spat out his food, hastily covering his mouth. After swallowing, he asked, “Why are you here so early today?”

“Oh, woke up early.”

Su Chen walked inside and saw that the coffin had been removed, replaced by an urn of ashes.

Lin Jingyu explained, “The case is clear. Last night, Grandma was called to collect Yingying’s remains, and we took them straight to the crematorium.”

He sighed deeply as he spoke.

“Yingying was one seventy tall, but in the end, this is all that’s left.”

Su Chen said nothing. He pulled out the wooden figure and leaned it against the urn.

“What’s that?” Lin Jingyu asked, puzzled.

“Yingying’s child.” Su Chen looked at the urn. “I have to take it with me in ten minutes; it can’t stay here long.”

The urn trembled faintly, as if in gratitude.

Cai Zhengqing’s eyes nearly bulged out in terror.

“Oh, please don’t come out and scare us again. I really don’t want to see that!”

Su Chen declined Lin Jingyu’s invitation to eat, found a chair, and sat down. He took out yellow paper, cinnabar, and a brush and began to draw.

Cai Zhengqing was speechless.

“Is this guy here to ruin the ceremony?”

Absolutely.

Turning his head, Cai saw his three disciples gathered nearby, watching and beating drums and gongs. He nearly spat out a mouthful of blood.

The noise was too loud. Su Chen frowned, and Zhang Qiang and the others immediately understood and left.

Lin Jingyu frowned as he watched.

“Is this writing, or painting?”

It looked like gibberish—completely illegible.

Su Chen remained silent, drawing ten sheets before stopping.

Then, with nimble fingers, he folded the talismans and placed them into the cloth bag that had held the yellow paper and cinnabar. Only then did he rise.

Lin Jingyu blinked and asked, “Hey, are these peace talismans?”

“Yeah.” The time was right. Su Chen retrieved the wooden figure and nodded at him.

With the New Year approaching, he needed to buy jackets for Yueyue and Acai, stock up on provisions, and prepare money for a big birthday celebration. He couldn’t rely solely on fortune-telling anymore.

So on the way here, Su Chen had thought about drawing talismans to sell.

He had even set the price—twenty yuan each.

Lin Jingyu quickly put down his bowl, making an effort to swallow his porridge. “Buddy, give me one... no, make it two.”

He rummaged in his pocket but only pulled out ten yuan.

“Wait, I’ll go home and get more money.”

He rushed home and soon returned with a hundred-yuan bill.

“Five sheets. I thought about it just now; everyone in my family should have one. Better safe than sorry.”

Su Chen looked him over carefully.

Grandma came out and laughed.

“Master, don’t worry. The Yu family is wealthy; this isn’t a problem.”

Lin Jingyu nodded. “Exactly. If money can buy peace, then don’t just talk about twenty yuan—one hundred or even a thousand isn’t a big deal.”

Su Chen studied him closely.

His worn jacket and patched trousers didn’t suggest wealth, but to casually mention a thousand yuan like that—he must be a tycoon.

Thinking this, Su Chen handed over five talismans.

“Hey, didn’t the people from Black Horse Billiard Hall get arrested? That bunch is involved in shady dealings. I’ve been worried my brother might be targeted recently. With these peace talismans, I can rest easy.”

Grandma smiled and nodded. “Yes, yes. I’ve heard about the billiard hall too. Apparently, it’s connected to that ‘Tiger.’ Heard he’s harmed many people.”

“That’s why, Grandma, better safe than sorry. You can never be too cautious.”

Lin Jingyu happily clutched the five talismans and left.

Su Chen warned, “Be careful not to get them wet.”

“Got it!”

Coming here and earning 120 yuan right off the bat, Su Chen felt thoroughly pleased.

Back at the stall, he instinctively reached for the wooden figure but realized Lin Jingyu hadn’t returned yet. So he stood and bought a daily newspaper from the street newsstand, flipping through it carefully.

Springming Street was gradually bustling. Many people rushing to work glanced at Su Chen’s stall but hurried past.

Old Lao pushed his bicycle over, opened the basket, and shouted, “Steamed buns for sale! One bun for ten cents!”

Seeing A Biao, Lao Lao smiled and greeted him, then glanced instinctively toward Su Chen.

“Two buns, please.”

“Alright, alright.”

All the vendors on Springming Street ran small businesses, selling affordable goods. Ten-cent buns could barely fill a stomach, while fifty-cent bowls of noodles were satisfying.

So when passersby saw Su Chen’s sign pricing each talisman at twenty yuan, curiosity quickly turned to disinterest.

No one dared to ask!

Li Auntie, the paper-cutting vendor, arrived and greeted Su Chen. She took out her scissors and started cutting. Occasionally, when asked about prices, she said just twenty or fifty cents.

A Biao returned with a bowl of noodles, squatted beside Su Chen slurping away, and peeked at the newspaper.

“Farmers hope to produce more small-packaged pesticides,” he read aloud, then muttered disdainfully, “Small packages, huh? Are they trying to make it easier for people to drink pesticides?”

Meeting Su Chen’s gaze, A Biao raised an eyebrow. “Why look at me like that? Are there really fewer pesticide poisonings these days?”

Su Chen thought for a moment, recalling from the original owner’s memories that a woman in Liangshan Town had committed suicide by pesticide. He shook his head.

A Biao sighed. “They say women can hold up half the sky, but in our Cuicheng, the preference for sons is so severe. If you can’t have a boy, you can’t hold your head high in your in-laws’ house. And if you have a son, you still have to obediently do housework and serve the men. My mom was like that—life was so hard. Luckily, that old drunk died, and that’s when our good days began.”

Su Chen thought of the original owner’s wife, silent.

Suddenly, A Biao quietly asked, “Brother, do you think I’ll really meet my true love soon?”

Snapping back to attention, Su Chen nodded. “Thinking about getting married?”

A Biao scratched his head. “Well, I’m this old, a lifelong bachelor. Even if I got married, do you think I could have kids?”

Su Chen glanced at his face; the palace of children was very full. He smiled. “How about a reading?”

A Biao shook his head repeatedly. “No way, no way. As the old saying goes, the more you ask, the thinner your luck gets. I’d rather wait for something big to happen before I get a reading.”

Su Chen was surprised.

He hadn’t expected A Biao, who looked rough, to be so sensible.

In their Celestial Master Mansion, there was no such idea that fortune-telling would drain one’s luck. But if people rely entirely on divination, that would be missing the point. So Su Chen generally didn’t recommend fortune-telling unless he saw potential trouble.

As he pondered this, a commotion erupted from the street.

From afar came a familiar voice.

“Zhao! You still dare to follow me? I’m telling you, this marriage is over!”

A Biao froze and immediately stood up.

“Aunt Chun?!”