Kiselev felt recently not feeling well, so he went to see the doctor.
“Show me your left palm.” The doctor said.
Kiselyov opened his left hand.
“Look,” the doctor said, “Your lifeline ended when you were 30.”
“What should I do?” Kiselyov panicked.
“I think this is the case…” said the doctor, picking up a ballpoint pen to extend Kiselev’s lifeline all the way to his wrist.
“Thank you,” Kiselev finished, and then asked shyly, “Then how do you look at my fortune?”
Doctor glanced at Kiselev’s palm again and wrinkled Eyebrow: “What is your monthly income?”
“Not much, I’m sorry to say that.” Kiselev answered.
“That’s right.” the doctor said.
“Is there no way?” Kiselev asked with a smile.
“I don’t know.” The doctor said.
“I beg you,” Kiselev said, “I will pay you.”
“Okay,” said the doctor, “take your hand.”
Doctor is again in the hands of Kiselev A line was drawn, and Kiselev shuddered subconsciously.
“Is this time okay?” The doctor asked after drawing.
“It’s not over yet,” Kiselev blushed, avoiding the doctor’s eyes and said, “How is my peach blossom?”
“Are you married?” the doctor asked.
“Married.” Kiselev answered truthfully.
“That can only be done.”
“Is there no way to change it?”
“No way,” the doctor said firmly, “This is beyond my ability.”
” How about three times what I paid you?” Kiselev still did not give up.
“That’s good,” the doctor said, “Then I will give you more room for imagination.”