Grandpa turned back to the man with the Soktak-ji-sang and asked, “What good do you think the Officer element brings to a businessman?”

  Confused, the man tilted his head. “What’s an Officer element?”

  “It refers to one’s standing in society. But since it is a factor that controls and suppresses you, in your case, it could be interpreted as the hand of the law.”

  The mention of the law caught his attention. “The hand of the law? What do you mean by that?”

  The man was a typical human after all and had completely taken the bait. Grandpa replied with a thin smile.

  “The work you’re doing right now is a bit shady, isn't it? If the state starts interfering with that, what do you think happens?”

  Grandpa threw out the question like bait.

  ‘Pfft, what is that even supposed to be?’ I thought to myself. But the Soktak-ji-sang clearly didn't think it was a joke. Something must have crossed his mind because he suddenly adjusted his posture and sat up straight.

  But he didn't need to bother because Grandpa had already closed his mouth again.

  This time, the man didn't say a word. He just slapped another 100,000 won onto the table.

  ‘He’s turned into a vending machine.’

  The more a person is consumed by greed, the more they offer up money to hear the answers they want. All Grandpa had to do was stop talking, and the man would deposit money as if he were buying a cup of coffee from a machine. However, Grandpa pushed the money back toward him.

  “I don’t give advice on illegal matters. Why would I want to end up in a jail cell right next to you?”

  The man pushed the money back once more. “Then what about the Rob Wealth (Robbery Star)? What does that mean?”

  “It refers to a period where you are fated to lose your assets. To put it simply, it means your wealth is being 'robbed' or snatched away. Easy enough to understand, right?”

  “How do I avoid it?”

  Grandpa fell silent again. The man pulled out more cash and placed it on the table. This time, however, Grandpa was firm as he returned the money.

  “We’re done here. Your luck has run dry. I have nothing left to say to you. Now, get out.”

  The man suddenly exploded in anger.

  “Hey! If you took my damn money, you should give me a proper reading!”

  “I gave you a perfect reading. If you’re so frustrated, go ask someone else. Next guest!”

  The man’s voice grew even louder at Grandpa’s indifference.

  “Is this hack crazy? You tell a perfectly fine man he’s going to go bust and then tell him to just leave?!”

  Grandpa’s eyebrows, which had been level until now, suddenly arched toward the ceiling, and a deep furrow formed between his eyes.

  “Listen here, you son of a b****! Pay back your debts before you start barking. Don’t you owe me five million won? Where do you get the nerve to throw a fit at your own benefactor!”

  Grandpa’s voice, which had remained calm throughout the session, suddenly became louder and more powerful than a market crier at a bustling traditional fair. The man’s face went pale. Grandpa was certainly not the type to show mercy to someone acting this way.

  “Wow, so you have money for a luxury car and a fancy suit, but you don’t have the five million won you promised me? You didn't even have the original 500,000 won?”

  Grandpa pulled the contract the man had signed out of his desk and threw it at his face.

  [Splat!]

  The man recognized the paper instantly, including his own thumbprint. He shut his mouth. Grandpa continued coldly.

  “You will never be the kind of rich man blessed by the heavens. From this point on, it’s a straight downhill slide. If you don't have the heart to give back to the world, don't even dream of becoming someone great.”

  I felt a surge of pure satisfaction.

  “I saved your life once. And yet, you come back here without even paying back the principal, only asking for ways to make more money?”

  With those final words, Grandpa kicked him out on the spot.

  A few hours later, the man returned. This time, he placed five million won on the desk.

  “This is the money I promised. I’m sorry. I made a mistake earlier. Please forgive me.”

  Grandpa wrapped the money in a cloth and handed it to me.

  “Exactly the amount promised. Go give this to your grandmother.”

  After receiving the money, Grandpa didn't hold back.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “You’re going to fail. You will absolutely go bankrupt. If you don’t, I’ll sear my own fingers in boiling soy sauce!”

  He turned and walked out of the room. The man shouted after him.

  “You old fortuneteller! If you took the money, you should help me not fail!!!”

  He remained in the room, shouting at the empty air. I couldn't stand the noise and just walked out. I informed the remaining guests that the sessions were over for the day.

  Someone in the crowd asked, “Why? Is it because of that guy in there? Want me to take care of him for you?”

  I replied, “Yes, it’s because of that guest. Grandpa said he used up all his energy on him and can no longer provide accurate readings today.”

  “Man, this is driving me crazy. I really needed to see him today... all because of that jerk...”

  As the guest grumbled, a few burly men entered the consulting room. A moment later, the man was dragged out and forcibly chased away from the Saju Philosophy Studio by the other waiting clients.

  After he left, Grandpa sat me down.

  “As I get older, I can see those types who are nothing but greed. Next year and the year after, that thing he calls a 'business' will collapse.”

  “But Grandpa, everyone has periods where bad luck comes in. If a chart like that shows up, what should they do?”

  “Do nothing.”

  “What?”

  “If he were to wrap up his business right now, put the money in the bank, and wait two years to start something new, he would become even more successful than he is now. But since he doesn't know any better, he’ll just watch his money bleed out until he’s penniless.”

  “Then why didn't you tell him that?”

  “Why should I? I don't give that kind of advice to people like him anymore. Men like that wouldn't donate a single cent to anyone. People like him need to lose it all.”

  “But you helped that other businessman before.”

  “That man with the 'pig eyes' went to the very brink of death. Maybe that’s why he gives so much back to the poor now that he’s doing well. I hear about it all the time and he’s even in the newspapers often.”

  “Really?”

  It seemed Grandpa had been keeping a close eye on that businessman.

  “He shows up here with money too, insisting on giving ten or even a hundred times more than others. He says it’s to repay his debt of gratitude to me.”

  It was true. I had even received gifts from him a few times. But that wasn't the end of it.

  “But as I looked deeper into his Saju, I could see that he’s fated to face another massive downfall eventually.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “Why would I? Do you think life goes exactly 100% according to one’s destiny? No one knows how the world will change. I’m just preparing for it quietly on his behalf.”

  “How?”

  “I’ve been steadily saving the money he brings. A man like him is truly necessary for society. The country does well when people like him succeed. That money might be peanuts to a businessman, but it will be a fortune when I need it for him. I have to be ready.”

  Thinking about it, it wasn't just for that man’s sake.

  “In the end, if people like him succeed, your pockets stay full too, right? Isn't that what you’re really after?”

  Grandpa let out a boisterous laugh.

  “Hahahaha! Exactly! My pockets only stay full if the clients I look after stay successful.”

  I laughed along, and Grandpa tucked a bit of pocket money into my hand.

  Saturday arrived.

  There was a large vacant lot in front of Grandpa’s house, which filled up with cars from out of town every weekend. Today, a young woman I hadn't seen before was helping with parking and lining up the guests in order. She was dressed very neatly and elegantly.

  “Those with reservations, please wait in the guest house.”

  To those who looked lost, she said, “If you don't have a reservation, please wait on the wooden bench in the yard. I’ll give you a number in the order you arrived so you can go in as soon as the morning appointments are finished.”

  And to those waiting for their Saju readings, she made sure to tell them, “If it’s your first time, please write down your birth date and time. If you don't know the birth hour, just leave it blank.”

  The young woman moved busily around the Saju Philosophy Studio. While the place was buzzing with activity, I was playing alone in the front yard because I had no friends to play with. I hadn't been here long since moving from Seoul, and I often heard that my hands and face were as white as snow.

  Seeing me, she spoke first.

  “Hey, you pale little kid in the monk’s robes. Are you the Master’s grandson from Seoul?”

  I stared at her face without saying a word.

  “I’m Yeon-hwa. I help out here at the Saju Philosophy Studio. There weren't any reservations for a few weeks, so I was away working on something else.”

  “Oh, hello. Ma'am.”

  I said that and tried to walk away. But the woman stopped me.

  “You’re Hyeon-jin, right? There’s only about a ten-year difference between us. Call me 'Noona' from now on.”

  I was dumbfounded. In Korea, 'Noona' is a friendly title for a slightly older female, implying a close, sibling-like bond. It felt absurd for a total stranger to demand such closeness. Besides, to my young eyes, any woman ten years older than me was simply a 'Ma’am.'

  “Only ten years? If it’s more than ten years, you’re a 'Ma’am' to me, not a 'Noona.' I haven't even lived ten years yet, Ma’am.”

  Instead of getting angry, she laughed at my answer.

  “Ohohoho! You really are the Master’s grandson.”

  She looked into my eyes and added, “Your words have a sharp edge that cuts right to the bone. Not everyone can do that.”

  Even though I had struck a nerve, she kept insisting.

  “But kiddo, when you’re living away from home, a ten-year gap means you can be friends. Why not just call me Noona?”

  I couldn't believe her. She looked at least over twenty and even had a daughter. Calling a mother 'Noona' made no sense. This woman, Yeon-hwa, had a daughter named Se-yeon who was four years younger than me.

  If my friends found out I was hanging out with a little girl who hadn't lived half as long as me and probably still wet her bed, they’d tease me mercilessly. I didn't want to be friends with Se-yeon either.

  Just then, Grandpa passed by and saw us talking.

  “You two! Stop gossiping! And Yeon-hwa! You have time to chat with a kid when there are guests waiting? Get back to lining people up!”

  As Grandpa scolded her, she bowed her head and hurried off. Once she was out of sight, Grandpa gave me a warning.

  “Listen! Don’t go mixing words with that girl. She’s dangerous.”

  He gave me a strict order not to speak to her unless absolutely necessary.

  “Why? Why shouldn't I talk to her?”

  “Never mind why. When I tell you not to do something, just say ‘yes’ and don’t do it.”

  That day, every guest who saw me called me things like “Little Dosa” or “Child Monk.” I suppose it was because of my white face and the monk’s robes I wore. They called me cute and gave me quite a bit of pocket money, which I accepted with a simple thanks.

  But then, I overheard some guests whispering behind my back.

  They were talking about me.