Yanzhu held Yaojiu as she wove through the alleyways, arriving at the overpass—a place crowded with people and obsessed over by countless young folk who sought the guidance of the mystical arts.
The bustle was constant. Daoist street vendors stood their ground behind raised banners, their stalls surrounded by throngs of people desperate to have their fortunes told or their prayers granted.
If a psychologist were to analyze her, she would scoff; but if a fortune teller were to speak, she would follow their word without hesitation.
Chapter 37