An 80s female translator was spoiled rotten by a rough and jealous man.

Chapter 117 Jiming Temple (Part 2)
Despite refusing to admit that she had come to seek a marriage partner, Meng Youyou dragged Huo Qingshan around Jiming Temple until they finally arrived at the Guanyin Hall.

The girl kneeling on the prayer mat in front of the Guanyin statue had her hands clasped together and her eyes closed.

No one knows what she's thinking at this moment.

Huo Qingshan stared at the girl's devout profile for a long time, then smiled and closed his eyes.

He didn't believe in gods or Buddhas, but somehow he seemed to be influenced by something, and silently murmured a short but sincere wish in his heart—May the one I love have their wish fulfilled.

Whether by coincidence or design, their foreheads landed on the prayer mats at the same time, without making any noticeable sound.

Stepping outside the hall, the sunlight was a bit dazzling. Meng Youyou subconsciously raised her hand to shield her forehead, and casually nudged the person next to her with her other elbow, asking, "What did you just wish for?"

As she spoke, she didn't look at him; her eyes were half-closed in contentment. Sunlight filtered through her fingers, falling on the tips of her long eyelashes, flashing once, then again.

Huo Qingshan spoke with feigned profundity, his tone casual: "The same as yours."

Meng Youyou removed her hand from his forehead, her eyes still half-closed, and looked up at him, "How did you know what I promised?"

The man smiled faintly: "Anyway, it's the same as yours."

"嘁~"

The entrance and exit of Jiming Temple are not on the same side. The way out of the temple is a long and steep staircase leading downhill.

There is a small platform every twenty steps or so as a buffer zone.

As the two were about to descend the stairs, they came to a spot on the last platform where an elderly man with white hair was sitting.

An old straw mat was laid on the ground, on which sat a simple purple pottery bowl. The bowl was engraved with Bagua (Eight Trigrams) patterns and had a dark glaze. Next to the bowl was a wooden signboard that read, “Pry into the secrets of heaven, and understand fortune and misfortune.”

When Meng Youyou saw him, for some reason, she looked at his clothes. They were ordinary and unremarkable. She thought to herself, "If you're doing this kind of business, why don't you dress more extravagantly? Otherwise, how will you attract customers?"
He turned his gaze to the empty purple clay bowl on the straw mat and sighed: "In this day and age, the backward economic level has actually restricted the development of this kind of swindling industry."

In the instant she looked away, she inadvertently caught sight of the man's missing arm. Meng Youyou pursed her lips and tugged at Huo Qingshan's sleeve, "Did you get some change at the post office? Give me fifty cents."

Huo Qingshan looked down to take out some change and casually asked, "You still believe in fortune telling?"

There was a hint of disbelief in his words.

The next second, the man took out a five-cent coin and handed it over.

Meng Youyou took it and said, "Making a wish today is considered accumulating good karma."

He turned around, took a few steps over, squatted down, and gently placed the coin into the bowl.

The sound of the coin hitting the bowl was very soft, almost imperceptible, but the white-haired old man opened his eyes in an instant. "Young lady, please wait."

Meng Youyou stopped in her tracks, then turned around and said with a smile, "Old sir, I don't do fortune telling."

"In that case, young lady, please take the money back."

Meng Youyou's expression froze for a few seconds before she saw the white-haired old man on the ground close his eyes again and slowly say, "I earn my living with my skills and I will not accept charity."

It has a certain integrity.

Meng Youyou turned her head and exchanged a few glances with Huo Qingshan. She tossed her chin, and the man walked over.

Meng Youyou spoke again: "Then may I ask what you are good at calculating, sir?"

The white-haired old man slowly opened his eyes, his gaze lingering briefly on the man and woman in front of him for a few seconds. "Have you two come to Jiming Temple today to pray for marriage?"

The two remained silent and did not respond.

The white-haired old man continued, "Do you two know that Jiming Temple has always only supported righteous relationships and severed karmic ties?"