His Beloved Ex-Wife

Chapter 685 Her World 

The middle–aged man gave a slight nod, passed Lysander a pen, and smiled warmly. “Miss, feel free to write down any word that comes to mind, in one fluid motion.” 

With a sense of resignation, Lysander swiftly wrote the word ‘medicine‘ onto a piece of paper. “What do you see?” 

The middle–aged man took the paper, glanced at it, and asked, “Miss, which aspect would you like to know 

about?” 

“My career.” 

She didn’t believe in the calamity he mentioned. Besides, she couldn’t believe one could avoid it just from a prediction if there were one to begin with. 

If she had to listen to his nonsense, she’d rather hear about her career. Fortune–telling con artists rarely speak ill of one’s career. 

“Medicine… You must be a doctor. That’s great. Healing the sick is a virtuous deed. However, the word deals with diseases. Besides, those who stand out from the crowd are targeted first. Judging by your complexion, it’s already affecting you.” 

It turned out the middle–aged man was an educated con artist. He managed to circle back to the calamity he mentioned and spoke badly about Lysander’s situation. 

Josiah’s expression grew increasingly stern as he listened, his anxiety spurring him to grasp Lysander’s hand. “Are you suggesting that her upcoming disaster is related to her profession?” 

“That should be it.” 

“Can it be resolved?” 

“Certainly. Wearing a protective amulet will do the trick.” The middle–aged man rummaged through his large bag, producing a tangled string of pendants adorned with auspicious images. 

These pendants were clearly cheap plastic imitations. Even someone with no experience could tell they 

weren’t real emeralds. 

-Josiah fell silent for a moment. He was raised by the prestigious Guerra family and had never encountered con artists or cheap trinkets. However, he had seen plenty of high–quality emeralds and gemstones from a young age. Hence, he could easily tell that these pendants were of poor quality. 

“Since we’re fated to meet, I won’t ask for much. Just one hundred. Look at this. Though its quality isn’t top–notch, the person who wears it can ward off evil…” 

“All right, I’ll take ten,” Josiah interrupted the middle–aged man’s nonsense, promptly paying the money. 

“Ten? You want ten?” 

“How many 

do 

you have?” 

“I haven’t counted, but roughly twenty.” 

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Upon seeing how readily Josiah agreed, the middle–aged man hurriedly handed over the pendants and Look the cash before dashing off, faster than when he had arrived. 

Josiah watched the figure receding into the dist. over the pendants to Lysander, saying, “Wear it.” 

is suspicions confirmed. Yet, he solemnly handed 

Lysander took the pendant, holding it up to the sunlight, and sighed. “Haven’t you realized you’ve been duped?” 

The pendant blocked the light completely, undoubtedly a plastic imitation. Besides, it wasn’t even high- quality plastic, most likely a cheap knockoff from a market. NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

Josiah sighed. “I realized when he pulled out those pendants. If he were truly a sage who could pierce the veil of fate, he wouldn’t be peddling these trinkets. But sometimes it’s better to believe, even if just for peace of mind. Consider it my way of buying some reassurance.” 

“So you actually believed him? I thought you figured it out when he took the money,” Lysander said, feeling stunned. 

“If Mr. Cobb of Thorne Constructions and Energies ever finds out how easy it is to deceive you, he’d surely regret not stocking up at the market. Oh, and he’d have to hire an extra crowd actor who knows graphology.” 

It was almost comical that the dignified CEO of Guerra Group was being swindled twice by the same con artist. 

Josiah lowered his gaze, looking at the pendant in Lysander’s hand, and said, “Wear it. If you don’t want to, just attach it to your bag as a charm.” 

Lysander placed the pendant alongside the wildflower bracelet given by the old woman earlier, avoiding Josiah’s intense gaze. “It’s getting late. Let’s have lunch and then head back. We need to get some supplies this afternoon. We have to leave for the health center early tomorrow.” 

With Lysander’s absence, the clinic relied solely on Karen. If she didn’t return soon, it would be problematic not just for her conscience but for the Karen’s ability to manage alone. 

Josiah continued to gaze at Lysander, his eyes filled with an unrecognized tenderness. “I overheard some tourists saying there’s a place here that serves excellent sheep offal and vegetable soup. Would you like to try it?” 

“Sure.” 

Lysander wasn’t picky about food, but she cautioned him, “Sheep offal and vegetable soup isn’t like the foie gras or caviar you’re used to. Though both are animal innards, offal in street food started as a way to avoid waste and has a strong flavor. Don’t force yourself if you can’t handle it.” 

The last time they had dinner at Blaine’s place, Josiah had struggled to eat. Things got even worse when he fell ill after an episode of severe vomiting. 

Josiah, however, was quite optimistic. “No worries, if I can’t handle it, I’ll just tell the boss to hold off on the sheep offal.” 

It turned out Josiah was not only optimistic but also quite naive. His imagination fell short when it came to navigating unfamiliar aspects of life. 

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The place selling sheep offal noodles was so tiny that it couldn’t even be called a restaurant. It was just a small storefront in the mar! 

not far from a butcher’s shop with fresh lamb hanging on hooks at the 

entrance. 

As for the patrons who came to have the soup, each was given two stools. They would dine right on the roadside outside the restaurant. The shorter stool was for sitting, while the taller one was used to place their bowl. 

Josiah had never seen such an arrangement before. He felt somewhat bewildered, clearly out of place but determined not to retreat. 

Lysander, however, seemed perfectly at ease. “Sheep offal and vegetable soup or clear soup?” 

The dining environment was simple, even to the point of being rudimentary. However, the lamb broth simmering in the owner’s large pot exuded a tantalizing aroma, irresistible to anyone nearby. 

Rong Yanxi glanced at the other diners‘ bowls of sheep offal and vegetable soups and decided to follow suit. “I’ll have the sheep offal and vegetable soup.” 

As he already braved an entire wild vegetable feast, he was confident that his stomach could handle a steaming bowl of sheep offal and vegetable soup. 

Such a small stall offered no service to speak of, once the soup was cooked, the customers had to fetch their food. 

Josiah quickly set aside the various trinkets he had purchased earlier and brought over two bowls of soups before Lysander could get up. However, he soon realized the challenge of the seating arrangement. 

The stool meant for sitting was extremely low, forcing him to stretch his long legs out awkwardly. The higher stool, serving as a makeshift table, was barely adequate. To have the soup, he had to hunch over uncomfortably, contorting himself in an almost comical manner. 

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