Chapter Fifty-Two: The First Signs of Power in Physiognomy

The long-awaited peerless art of divination is finally about to be revealed. Friends, have you been waiting impatiently? Well, what are you waiting for? Come and see for yourselves—what follows will be even more exciting, and how could you bear to miss it? But let’s be generous and fair: if you enjoy reading, don’t forget to vote and reward the author.

“Bra? Are you serious, Third? What does angina have to do with a bra? Isn’t that something women use?” The three of them were stunned by Liu Fan’s words. Then, with a lascivious grin, Chen Gang chimed in.

“Not a woman’s bra. I mean a great omen of disaster.” Liu Fan grew anxious and hurried to explain.

“If it’s not for women, then is it for cows? How big is this ‘great chest’—a D cup, an E cup, or the legendary F cup? Heh.” Clearly, the three didn’t take Liu Fan’s words seriously. Even Zhang Yi brushed it off, cracking jokes.

“All right, enough kidding around. I’m telling the truth—this is what I’ve deduced from physiognomy.” Seeing their laughter, Liu Fan realized they didn’t believe him, so he spoke with a serious expression.

“Physiognomy? Hah! Third, you’re hilarious. When did you learn fortune telling? Then tell me tomorrow’s lottery numbers—I’ll buy a few dozen tickets and get rich!” As modern college students, they associated fortune telling, face reading, and feng shui with superstition, so Chen Gang teased Liu Fan.

It was no wonder they didn’t believe him. Most in that line of work nowadays were frauds, and few truly had any skill. But every coin has two sides. Since such beliefs exist, there must be a reason. Before materialism prevailed, these idealistic theories were considered truth. Humanity keeps advancing; when a theory no longer fits the times, it is discarded—natural selection at work. To modern people, physiognomy is shrouded in mystery. We tend to fear the unknown, and thus it is often set aside, much like traditional medicine. In today’s fast-paced urban life, traditional medicine seems to be fading, yet before Western medicine’s arrival, it contributed immeasurably to China and the world. Can you really deny its value?

“Big Brother, don’t interrupt—this is serious. From his face, I can see that Second’s forehead—specifically, the left side of his Parents Palace—shows a dark aura swirling around the Sun Horn. His brow is shadowed; this is a major omen. The Sun Horn pertains to the father, so I deduced that Second’s father is in mortal danger. And just now, Second’s angina proves the saying ‘a father and son share a bond’.” This was an emergency, and since it concerned his brother’s family, Liu Fan spoke with heightened gravity.

“No way… that’s too uncanny.” Zhang Yi was half-convinced but still hesitant.

“Don’t doubt it. Your clear features show you get along with your brothers, but your brows are uneven, which means you have two mothers. The right side of your Parents Palace, the Moon Horn, is defective—your birth mother died early, and your current mother is your stepmother. Also, the right Moon Horn juts out a bit, meaning you and your stepmother don’t get along. After all this, surely you believe me now?” Liu Fan rattled off his analysis in one breath, nearly out of breath.

Chen Gang and Wang Shiren were baffled, but to Zhang Yi, it was like a tidal wave. Despite his cheerful facade, Zhang Yi was deeply lonely and never spoke of his family. Every word Liu Fan uttered struck a chord in his heart.

He had grown up with his mother, who died when he was ten. Afterwards, his biological father took him in, recognizing him as family. But his father was busy and left him in the care of his stepmother, who resented him as an illegitimate child and often beat and scolded him. Only his half-brother, sharing the same father, cared for and protected him. Zhang Yi respected his brother deeply; without him, he might have run away from home.

So at first, he hadn’t cared when Liu Fan spoke of danger to his father. But as Liu Fan’s words rang truer and truer, he could no longer doubt. He had already lost his mother; if he lost his father too, his sorrow would be complete.

“Wu wu… Third is right—he hasn’t missed a single detail.” Mentioning those painful memories, Zhang Yi’s eyes reddened as he struggled to hold back his tears. He choked up, embodying the saying, “Men do not weep easily; it’s only that their hearts have not been truly broken.”

“All right, Second, it’s all in the past. Don’t you still have us—your brothers—by your side?” Liu Fan comforted him.

“Yeah, Third is right. No matter what, we’ll always have your back.” Wang Shiren nodded, patting his scrawny chest.

“Th-thank you… we’re brothers, I…” Before he could finish, Zhang Yi was already sobbing, overcome by the genuine, untainted camaraderie he had never felt in his family.

“Eighteen, eighteen, joined the guerrillas, went up the mountain to find pretty girls. Sister isn’t afraid of pain, brother isn’t afraid of fatigue. You’ve got a shelter, I’ve got a rocket launcher—put it in, pull it out, the sister flows like water, the brother collapses…” Just as the four were lost in their heartfelt brotherhood, a bizarre and risqué ringtone shattered the moment.

The group turned to the source. It was Zhang Yi’s phone. The other three glanced at him with playful, knowing looks, and Zhang Yi could only spread his hands, shrug, and—through his tears—break into a laugh.

“That’s more like it! We’re young—no need to dwell on the past forever. But honestly, Second, you’re getting more and more outrageous, haha…” Seeing Zhang Yi laugh, Chen Gang felt reassured and teased him.

“Exactly! Big Brother’s right—more flamboyant by the day!” Wang Shiren joined in mischievously.

The ringtone lightened the previously heavy atmosphere, but only Liu Fan’s face remained serious. Though he seldom used his skills in physiognomy, he believed in them completely. The timing of Zhang Yi’s phone call further confirmed his prediction.

“Shh!” Liu Fan gestured for silence, then looked at Zhang Yi and said solemnly, “Second, answer the phone.”

Zhang Yi had thought it was an ordinary call and hadn’t paid much attention to Liu Fan’s prediction. Face reading and divination seemed far-fetched to him. But seeing Liu Fan’s grave expression, he reluctantly picked up the phone. When he saw his brother’s name on the screen, his heart skipped a beat; he hurried to answer.

“B-brother, it’s me, Xiao Yi,” Zhang Yi stammered.

“Xiao Yi, why did you take so long to answer? I was worried sick! Where are you? There’s been a big accident at home!” The voice on the other end was Zhang Tao, Zhang Yi’s elder brother, and his anxiety was evident.

Hearing that something had happened at home, Zhang Yi immediately thought of Liu Fan’s prediction and anxiously asked, “Brother, is it Dad… did something happen to him?” His voice grew lower and finally choked with emotion.

“How did you know? Dad is in critical condition—he’s in the ICU at the city hospital. Get here right away!” Zhang Tao was surprised that Zhang Yi knew, but there was no time to ask; he urged his brother to hurry.

The phone wasn’t loud, but everyone nearby could hear clearly. Everything matched Liu Fan’s prediction, and Chen Gang and Wang Shiren gasped in shock.

“All right, I’m on my way.” Any last hope in Zhang Yi’s heart was dashed. He struggled to hold back tears as he replied, then turned to Liu Fan and the others. “Big Brother, something’s happened at home. I have to leave right now. Can you help me take a leave of absence with the school?”

“No problem, leave it to me. But don’t worry too much—Uncle is a good man; he’ll be all right.” Chen Gang, having heard the call, offered comfort.

“Yes, Second Brother, don’t lose hope—maybe there’s still a chance,” Wang Shiren added, glancing at Liu Fan as if seeking confirmation.

“Indeed, Second, maybe there’s still hope, just as Fourth said.” Liu Fan’s voice was full of confidence, radiating a trust that seemed almost supernatural. With his medical skills and otherworldly abilities, saving someone was a mere trifle—if he was willing, and if the person was worth saving.

Hearing Liu Fan’s words, Zhang Yi recalled the miraculous face reading from earlier. Liu Fan had always seemed shrouded in mystery—sometimes a martial arts master, sometimes a military chief, and now a master of physiognomy. For the first time, hope stirred in Zhang Yi’s heart.

“Third, I know you’re no ordinary man. You can save my father, can’t you?” Zhang Yi now clung to Liu Fan as his last hope, his eyes full of desperate longing.

“Don’t worry. As long as there’s still breath, I can save him.” Liu Fan wasn’t boasting. Even if only a sliver of life remained—or even if the person had been dead less than seven days, with three souls and seven spirits intact—he could revive them. This was, in fact, modesty.

“Really? Then… will you come and help save him? You have no idea how much he means to me—though he’s always busy and rarely with me, I know he loves me. If you can save him, I’d give anything, even my life.” Afraid Liu Fan might refuse, Zhang Yi was about to kneel in desperation.

“Second, what are you doing? We’re friends and brothers—how could I stand by when your family is in trouble? Let’s go to the hospital first and see what’s going on.” Liu Fan, startled by Zhang Yi’s gesture, hurried to help him up, forcing a wry smile.