In a study room.
An old man in a Tang suit was sitting on a chair with a book in his hand and was reading it quietly.
Lin Zihao walked in.
But the old man still looked indifferent as if he did not see even a shadow of it.
"Patriarch, I saw that young man again today." Lin Zihao said slowly after seeing the old man.
"En."
"He set up a fortune-telling stall today. I was on a whim and asked him to read the fortune." Lin Zihao continued.
This time, the old man said to him, "There is no need to tell me this kind of thing."
"I asked him to read our entire family's fortune." Lin Zihao gritted his teeth and added the information.
After the old man heard this, his body stagnated a little, and then he put down the book in his hand and closed that book.
On the cover, there were four clear characters: Sun Tzu Art of War.
"That young man came out of Mr. Hua's courtyard?" The old man asked without any emotion.
There are plenty of preachers who don't hear themselves.