The middle-aged scholar hesitated a bit, then as he smiled and nodded he said: “Ok, today I will calculate it for you, Yang Sen you also don’t need to beg me repeatedly, I will also calculate yours.”
Having said that, he closed his eyes, then opened his eyes all of a sudden, although Wang Lin maintained a neutral expression, his heart was beating fast, his soul swept away, found that from the middle-aged scholar a small trace of spiritual power, was flowing in a weird pattern, eventually condensing at the middle-aged scholar’s eyes.
Staring at the black-faced man, the middle-aged scholar, he muttered some chants, and calculated while pinching his hands quickly, a trace of red rose in his face, as he said frowning: “Liu Laowu, a dark cloud covers your forehead, and a plague of blood looms, will soon encounter a robbery, if manage to overcome, then in three months, you will get married.”
Black-faced man was surprised, as he smiled and said: “A Robbery? Okay, we escorts, are always living on the blade’s edge, a plague of blood is unavoidable.”