Do Something for Me

This fortune teller goes by the name of Timothy.

He's not a local in the gambling city, but he believes he's got a few tricks up his sleeve in fortune-telling. With smooth talk and a slick demeanor, he managed to make his way to the gambling city two years ago and set up a fortune-telling stall on the street.

Initially, some people believed in him, allowing Timothy to scrape by and make some money.

However...

Starting from last year, luck took a sudden turn for the worse.

He'd predict the birth of a son, only to have a daughter born, or vice versa.

He got it wrong over a dozen times in a row, and his stall got smashed three times.

His reputation was utterly ruined, becoming nothing short of a joke. No one came to him anymore, so he had to resort to fooling some tourists to get by.

When Jason Hart went to buy sandalwood, Timothy happened to be sitting on the doorstep munching on a bun.

He witnessed someone buying $4,000 worth of sandalwood without batting an eye, no haggling, seemingly a wealthy young man from a prominent family. This got Timothy's spirits up, and he followed the guy all the way to the pizza shop.

Twenty sticks of incense for $400, though Jason Hart blinked when he paid, Timothy didn't catch it.

All those fancy cars and watches, even if they were expensive, Jason Hart didn't spend a dime of his own money on them. He was about to burn $4,000 just like that, but taking it out of his wallet still pinched a little.

In the fortune-telling business, thin skin won't cut it. If you don't believe in yourself, how will customers?

So even when targeted by the pizza shop owner, Timothy remained cool and waved it off with a smile.

Jason Hart observed him carefully.

If it weren't for the scent of meat, he might have had some charm.

His round face was plain, but it had an amiable quality that made people warm up to him.

Especially that thick skin that just wouldn't be brushed off, it immediately made Jason Hart think of something, silently marveling at how lucky he was to have someone offering a pillow right when he needed to nap.

Telling the pizza shop owner not to worry, Jason Hart invited him with a smile, "Master, please, have a seat, care for some pizza?"

"No, I'm just here because I feel a connection with you and wanted to help ease your troubles. How could I eat your food?"

Having had his fill of meat pies, Timothy couldn't eat another bite.

Timothy stared at Jason Hart, looking genuinely concerned, and sighed deeply.

Jason Hart took a sip of tea, covered his cup, and teased, "How's your skill?"

Timothy, without missing a beat, added, "As a direct descendant of a master, my skills are quite formidable..."

Even the driver was almost fed up and couldn't understand why Jason Hart was interested in chatting about this.

But he was just the driver, so he couldn't be bothered. He started zoning out, watching the old craftsman across the street making clay figurines.

...

Timothy was quite the talker.

He kept boasting about how amazing his master was, embellishing his own skills to prove that he wasn't just all talk.

Jason Hart didn't believe a word of it.

He had other thoughts in mind, treating the conversation as nothing more than a story while eating pizza.

After finishing a pizza, Timothy felt it was time to do some business. He pretended to read Jason Hart's palm, saying, "If I'm not mistaken, your name is Jason Hart, and you come from a wealthy family. You've been facing some recent difficulties, haven't you? It's crowded here, not convenient to talk. How about we chat at my place?"

Jason Hart pulled out his wallet to pay for the pizza, asked the driver to take care of the bill, then handed Timothy a hundred-dollar bill, burping contentedly as he spoke, "Maybe we are truly fated to meet. For your persuasive tongue alone, here's a hundred bucks. I'd like to ask for your help with something. If it works out, there'll be a nice reward for you, enough to live comfortably for a year. Interested?"

"...What do you want me to do?"

Taking the hundred dollars naturally, Timothy tucked it into his pocket, securing his meals for the next few days.

Jason Hart didn't elaborate but assured him, "Don't worry, it's nothing illegal. There might be a problem with a big deal at home, and I need your help."

Learning that it was a big deal, Timothy perked up and said, "No problem! Just tell me where you need me, and I'll be there!"

Giving Timothy his phone number, Jason Hart wiped his mouth and left.

He didn't fancy Timothy because of his skills, but because his thick skin and smooth lies might come in handy.

He wasn't sure how to persuade his old man yet, but he had some ideas now.

He needed to think it through...

Back home after delivering the sandalwood, Auntie Two casually handed Jason Hart over ten thousand dollars.

Both Auntie Two and Auntie Three usually used money to win Jason Hart over, attempting to keep peace in the family and avoid any trouble.

Since they didn't have children of their own, they could only use Jason Hart to maintain harmony in their lives.

Otherwise, if there were real conflicts, George would probably make them move out; after all, he wouldn't want to fall out with his only son.

Both Auntie Two and Auntie Three understood this better than anyone else.

George probably understood it too, so Jason Hart's pocket money was always given through Auntie Two and Auntie Three's hands.

Living under one roof with so many family members inevitably led to more conflicts than other families. As long as Su Yehao didn't cause any trouble, Auntie Two was willing to shell out money. Over time, it had become an unspoken agreement, somewhat akin to paying protection fees.

There was no way around it; after all, they weren't Jason Hart's biological mothers.

Jason Hart wouldn't willingly break this agreement. Instead, he happily pocketed another ten thousand dollars and drove off in his Ferrari, heading out to hit the bars.

Liam was treating them to drinks, and Bucktooth, Bamboo, and Derek had already left. He had just called them...