Scene: It’s a quiet afternoon at Chen Hui’s tea shop in Hangzhou. The two friends are sipping green tea near the koi pond. A small turtle basks lazily on a rock nearby.
Chen Hui: (sighs dramatically) Li Wei, I’m telling you… ever since I let that turtle stay here, my sales have dropped. It’s like he’s soaking up all my luck!
Li Wei: (chuckling) Hui, you do realize that blaming a turtle for bad business is a bit… extravagant? Maybe the weather’s been too hot for customers?
Chen Hui: No, no! You don’t understand. My grandmother used to say: “Turtle brings life, but not fortune.” They symbolize longevity, yes, but they drain wealth from the household. My neighbor Auntie Zhao kept a turtle once — her dumpling stall went under in two months!
Li Wei: Or maybe Auntie Zhao’s dumplings weren’t very good?
Chen Hui: (waving hands dramatically) Rude! Her dumplings were famous! The only thing that changed was the turtle.
Li Wei: Hui, you know I love tradition, but as an engineer, I have to look at the evidence. Correlation doesn’t equal causation. Maybe sales were slow because it’s exam season, or maybe people are on vacation. You can’t pin that on a poor little reptile who just wants to sunbathe.
Chen Hui: But how do you explain the unlucky patterns? Since I got him, my supplier messed up two orders, the cash register jammed, and I broke three teacups. Three, Wei!
Li Wei: That sounds more like bad luck… or clumsiness. Hey, last month, didn’t you say the turtle brought good energy to the shop?
Chen Hui: Well… yes, at first. But then Auntie Zhao saw it and warned me, and after that, I started noticing everything going wrong.
Li Wei: Aha! That’s the nocebo effect. It’s like a placebo, but negative — you expect bad things, so you start seeing every little mishap as proof. You break a cup, and suddenly it’s the turtle’s fault.
Chen Hui: (grinning slyly) So you’re saying I cursed myself?
Li Wei: More like you primed your brain to look for disaster. Remember when you were convinced your jade bracelet was protecting you from colds, and then you got the flu?
Chen Hui: That was just… temporary misalignment of energy.
Li Wei: (laughing) Temporary misalignment of your immune system, more like.
Chen Hui: Hmm. But Wei, why do you think so many people believe these things, if they’re not true?
Li Wei: Because they help us feel in control. Life’s unpredictable. It’s comforting to think we can influence luck with a turtle or a charm. But that doesn’t mean the turtle causes anything.
Chen Hui: So you’re saying I should just… ignore centuries of tradition?
Li Wei: Not ignore. Respect it as culture, but don’t let it run your life. You can appreciate the symbolism without blaming the turtle for your profits.
Chen Hui: (smiling thoughtfully) Maybe you’re right. But if business doesn’t pick up next week, you’re helping me carry the turtle to Auntie Zhao’s house.
Li Wei: (grinning) Deal. And if sales go up, you’re buying me dumplings.
Chen Hui: Fine! But if this turtle starts making you late to work or your phone battery dies, don’t come crying to me.
Li Wei: (laughing) Don’t worry — I’ll blame the Wi-Fi, not the wildlife.
Chen Hui: (raising his teacup) To turtles — may they live long and stay out of the cash register!
Li Wei: Cheers to that.
(The turtle blinks slowly, utterly indifferent to their debate.)

Tell Us What You Think