“Uncle, I see darkness gathering at your forehead—there’s a bloody calamity coming today. Best not to travel far.” Su Keke flashed a grin, showing her neat little white teeth. Qin Mochen promptly turned down the blind-date dinner arranged by his elders.
“Uncle, lately your eyes look watery, your complexion is rosy, and the corners of your lips keep lifting unconsciously—someone’s about to have a peach-blossom romance!”
Qin Mochen fixed the little girl with a deep, unreadable gaze.
Later, with Su Keke riding on his back, she said with a mischievous smile, “Uncle, I’ve done the math—hehe—you’re missing me in your fate.”
When Su Keke became Mrs. Qin, the Qin family collectively exploded: That’s her! That shameless man! The one who turned a girl who’d been calling him ‘uncle’ for years into his wife—an old bull eating tender grass, absolutely disgraceful!
The utterly shameless Fourth Master Qin, however, promoted his young wife with a straight face: “Fortune-telling, face reading, warding off misfortune, ghost hunting and exorcism, feng shui and dragon-vein locating—Su-brand services. One and only, no branches. Worth having.”
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A seemingly harmless, naturally dense little fortune-teller who plays dumb but hides her claws × a outwardly proper, inwardly scheming, abstinent-type uncle.