“Hey, what exactly were you doing all day? How’d you earn that money?” A soft voice came from the other side of the temple. “Reading palms and telling fortunes.” “You know how to read fortunes?” Chen Gong sat up and faced him. Shen Qiao was still sitting in place, cross-legged. “Honestly, it doesn’t involve much reading,” he said with a smile. “But a person’s palm will always give away small traces of whether they are poor or rich. It’s just a trifling skill to earn a little money.”
