178: Chapter 178

The soft clashing of bamboo sticks in the fortune-telling cylinder was completely drowned out by the roar of trucks in the logistics area.

But that wooden sign with black characters on a white background saying "Fortune-telling" was just too eye-catching.

Most flower farmers and drivers passing by would steal a couple of glances.

Some curled their lips, some laughed, but no one stopped.

Jiang Feng wasn't in a hurry, slowly sipping tea from an insulated cup.

Just after ten in the morning, the first business arrived.

The visitor was around fifty, his mud-colored short-sleeved shirt mostly soaked with sweat, an old towel draped around his neck, and his straw hat pulled low.

He stood three steps away from the stall, pacing back and forth, turning in circles with anxiety.

Finally, steeling his heart, he took a big step forward.

"Master, I want to draw a stick! How much?"

Jiang Feng looked up.

"Sit first. Fifty yuan, fair prices for all."

The man pulled out a bamboo chair and sat down, took off his straw hat and placed it on his lap, and pulled out a fifty-yuan bill.

His face, tanned dark by the sun, was covered in oily sweat, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were filled with anxiety.

"What are we divining?"

"Divining the goods!" The man's voice was extremely loud.

"I took out a high-interest loan and just bought a batch of imported Spring Sword Orchids. Two hundred and eighty thousand yuan of capital, all tied up in Shed No. 9."

He wiped his face haphazardly with the towel, his confidence half-gone.

"My right eyelid has been twitching like crazy these past two days, and my heart is racing. I just want to draw a stick to see if this batch of flowers can survive this week and be sold smoothly."

Jiang Feng picked up the cylinder and pushed it forward.

"Clean your hands first."

"Huh?"

"Before drawing a stick, don't let your hands carry any stray energy."

The man looked around and saw half a bottle of mineral water on a nearby concrete platform.

He quickly grabbed it to rinse his hands, shook off the droplets, and rubbed them hard against his pant legs twice.

"Is this okay?"

"Hold the cylinder with both hands, close your eyes, think only about your batch of flowers, and shake hard."

The man obediently closed his eyes, picked up the cylinder, and shook it vigorously.

The bamboo sticks clattered against the walls of the cylinder, fast and dense.

After shaking seven or eight times, a bamboo stick jumped out and rolled twice on the table.

Jiang Feng picked up the stick and flipped it over.

At the top of the engraved side, three broken horizontal lines were stacked over three broken horizontal lines.

Kan above, Kan below; Kan is Water.

Below was a four-character inscription: Flooding the Golden Mountain.

In the sixty-four hexagrams, it ranked third from the bottom.

A pure Bottom-tier stick.

Jiang Feng slapped the bamboo stick on the table, face up.

"See for yourself."

The flower farmer leaned in to look and read it aloud.

His expression changed instantly.

"Flooding the Golden Mountain? What does that mean? Is there going to be a flood?"

Jiang Feng's fingertip lightly tapped the Kan Hexagram diagram on the stick.

"Kan above and below, Kan is Water, representing overlapping dangers."

"The interpretation of this stick is just one sentence: your batch of orchids will suffer a catastrophic flood. It has nothing to do with how they grow; they will simply be drowned."

Most of the farmer's body practically bounced up.

"Drowned? Are you kidding me?"

He turned and pointed at the shimmering glass greenhouse in the distance.

"Where is water coming from on such a sunny day!"

"My Shed No. 9 is a fully enclosed smart greenhouse with computer-controlled temperature and humidity, and even the ventilation is fully automatic. Even if it rains knives outside, it's dry and comfortable inside!"

"That's two hundred and eighty thousand yuan of hard cash, Master, don't scare me with this!"

Jiang Feng picked up his insulated cup and took a slow, deliberate sip of tea.

"Let me ask you something. On the roof of your greenhouse, is there a row of automatic spray pipes?"

The flower farmer was stunned.

"Yes, that's the mist humidification system, it sprays mist on the orchids at set times. Is there a problem?"

"The flood isn't from the sky; it's in the pipes above your head."

Jiang Feng picked up the bamboo stick and pointed the tip toward the roof of the awning.

"The Kan Hexagram signifies danger, specifically internal danger."

"It's called being impossible to guard against. The leak isn't because of rain; it's because your own piping system is about to collapse."

The flower farmer stood with his mouth open, unable to squeeze out a word for a long time.

"That makes no sense, it just had maintenance last month..."

"Can last month's maintenance last a lifetime?" Jiang Feng pressed the bamboo stick back onto the table, his voice not loud but highly penetrating.

"Now, call your worker in the shed immediately. Have him get a ladder, climb up, and check the main pressure valve of the overhead spray system."

"Just check the valve, don't worry about anything else."

The flower farmer stared at Jiang Feng, his face full of struggle.

He had already paid the hundred-yuan divination fee; it was better to believe it than not.

If something really happened, that was a 280,000 yuan high-interest loan.

He tremblingly pulled out his phone and dialed the number.

"Old Zhang! Stop what you're doing, get a ladder, climb to the top of Shed No. 9, and check the main valve of the spray system!"

There were some grumbles from the other end of the phone, inaudible.

"Stop talking nonsense! Just look when I tell you to look!"

The flower farmer turned on the speakerphone and threw the phone on the table.

The sound of a metal ladder being dragged came through the speaker, followed by heavy breathing from climbing.

Less than a minute later, a sharp, distorted scream suddenly erupted from the phone.

The flower farmer was startled: "What's going on?"

"Bo... Boss!" Old Zhang's voice was completely cracked.

"The main valve casing is cracked! A huge twenty-centimeter-long opening! It's all rusted inside, and the screws are falling out!"

"As soon as my hand touched it, the whole valve body started shaking! This thing is about to break down!"

The color visibly drained from the flower farmer's face.

In a fully enclosed greenhouse, once the main pressure valve failed, the high-pressure water in the pipe network would form a waterfall within seconds.

Imported Spring Sword Orchids worth 280,000 yuan—their roots were most vulnerable to waterlogging.

If they were blasted by high-pressure water, even the Great Golden Immortal couldn't save this batch of goods.

"Shut off the main valve! Cut the water quickly!"

The flower farmer roared into the phone, his legs turning into noodles as he slumped back into the bamboo chair.

Only when Old Zhang's words "Total shutoff complete" came through the speaker did he let out a heavy sigh, sweat pouring down his body.

He turned his head, his voice trembling.

"Master, your stick... it's eerily accurate."

"Whether the stick is accurate or not isn't up to me." Jiang Feng picked up the bamboo stick and casually tossed it back into the cylinder.

"It's all the destiny you shook out yourself."

"I'm just a translator, following the text."

The flower farmer sat blankly for two seconds, then suddenly stood up, stepped back, bent at the waist, and bowed to Jiang Feng.

"Master! Such great kindness! If it weren't for your divination today, once these goods were destroyed, the high-interest loan would have driven my family of four to jump into the river!"

"Alright, alright." Jiang Feng raised his hand.

"If the valve is broken, go replace it. Don't skimp on this money; buy one from a reputable large manufacturer."

"While you're at it, find someone to do a pressure test on the entire pipe network to avoid any hidden dangers."

The flower farmer nodded repeatedly, grabbed his straw hat and slapped it on his head, then turned and sprinted toward his greenhouse.

[Ding! Effective stick interpretations: 1/3]

Jiang Feng tidied the cylinder on the table and picked up his insulated cup; the tea was at the perfect temperature.

After just two sips, several heads were already peeking out from the unloading area in the distance, looking this way.

In this kind of rough-and-tumble world, gossip and miracles always spread faster than the wind.