Heaven did not cooperate.
At daybreak the next morning, the rain was still falling without pause. The main doors of the foot-shop stood open, allowing damp vapor to seep all the way into the interior, making everyone thoroughly uncomfortable.
The guests staying at the inn had their travel plans ruined by the heavy downpour. Gathering in small groups in the main hall, they complained incessantly:
“This rain is strangely uncanny. It's been pouring since last night and hasn't stopped even till this morning. Truly weird.”
“Tell me about it! I've been traveling this road for years, and I've never seen rain like this—relentless and heavy, complete with thunder and lightning. It's downright frightening!”
“Sigh, I was hauling a cart full of pears, hoping to hurry into the city overnight to sell them. Who would've thought a sudden downpour would trap me here in this foot-shop?”
“Whoa! You're really generous with your coin then. Staying a night at this foot-shop costs thirty to fifty coins—much more expensive than an inn in the city!”
“How could I afford to be generous?! It's only because a kindhearted young worker here accepted a basket of my pears and let me huddle in a lower room for the night. I'm just waiting for the rain to stop so I can head into the city to sell my pears!”
“I'm anxious too! I went to the countryside a few days ago to collect rent, intending to enter the city yesterday, only to get trapped in this foot-shop. Damn it all, what terrible luck!”
Nan Zhi carried her oil-paper umbrella with her as she turned, shut her room door, and walked down the stairs to the main hall.
People were seated at several tables in the hall. The moment they saw a broad-shouldered, dark-faced girl coming downstairs, they all fell silent.
A few busybodies even widened their eyes, gesturing and pointing at Nan Zhi's back while letting out occasional bizarre chuckles.
Nan Zhi was in an exceptionally good mood and couldn't care less. She simply called out to the worker at the counter:
“Worker, give me three bowls of soft-braised mutton noodles, a few refreshing side dishes, and a pot of wine. Don't try to fool me with dried meat or fox meat—that stuff tastes gamey and rank.”
—Nan Dazhuang had told her before that certain remote shops loved to pass off fox meat as mutton, or mix snake meat in with swamp eel. Ordinary customers couldn't tell the difference, and even if they did, they didn't dare argue with the innkeeper for fear of running into a black-hearted shop that robbed and murdered patrons.
The worker who had guided everyone yesterday was quite young, though he had a weather-beaten, mature appearance and was very capable.
“Alright! Rest assured, lady. Fresh game is brought down from the mountains to our foot-shop every day. We definitely don't deal in such disgraceful business!”
Seeing Nan Zhi beaming with joy and practically glowing with excitement, the worker couldn't help but feel a bit puzzled:
“Young lady, I saw you all hurrying yesterday, so you must be traveling. Why is it that with the relentless rain today, when everyone else is tearing their hair out in distress, you're still smiling so brightly?”
Nan Zhi naturally had to smile.
She didn't just smile—she wanted to laugh out loud, laugh unrestrainedly, laugh to her heart's content.
In the past, she might have agonized over whether this world was real or fake, worrying that her choices might trigger a butterfly effect.
Now?
She was stacked to the brim with golden fingers and the ultimate cheat codes! Was there any need to act timid and fearful?
How could a great woman submit to others forever, wallowing in gloom and treading on eggshells?
No time to explain.
Her current self was in her ultimate form: Nan “Fourth Calamity, Infinitely Resurrecting, Recklessly Wild and Unstoppable” Zhi!
Rain?
What did a little rain matter?
Could it stop her restless, lawless heart from wanting to run wild outside?
Sorry, but actually, it could.
Fortunately, Nan Zhi hadn't completely lost her mind to the excitement of entering the game world.
She finally remembered that the Wang master and servant were still starving.
“Worker, bring two more bowls of plain noodles. Right, just boiled in water until cooked—that's enough. Send them up to my two servants.”
Nan Zhi paused for a moment, calculating the money left in her pocket, and asked the worker with utmost seriousness:
“On second thought, why don't you just make one bowl of noodles for the two of them? Boil it super soft and add extra noodle broth. As long as it fills their bellies, that'll do. That way—can you give me a discount?”
“T-This... how could that work? Plain noodles are only three coins a bowl; that really isn't expensive at all. Besides, setting aside that one bowl isn't enough for two people, plain noodles have no flavor or fat to begin with. Once eaten, they'll just get hungry again in no time. Young lady, even among wealthy households, nobody treats their servants so poorly.”
The worker stood dumbfounded, clearly having never witnessed such an operation. His eyes couldn't help but dart toward the table: asking two full-grown men to share one bowl of noodles, while you eat three all by yourself—and soft-braised mutton noodles at that!
Three bowls!
Bah!
What kind of black-hearted rich girl was she?
Nan Zhi naturally picked up on the worker's disgust and the subtle disdain from the people in the hall.
But she remained thick-skinned and ordered two bowls of plain noodles for the two men.
—Those two had leeched off the Qu family for so many years on the dead's wealth; suffering a little hardship now was nothing more than retribution.
Besides, she didn't have much silver left, so every single copper coin had to be spent wisely.
She was only eighteen this year, right at the prime stage of growing—could she afford to starve herself?
Eating just noodles made her throat feel dry, so having a little wine accompanied by refreshing side dishes was only reasonable!
Nan Zhi felt entirely justified.
...
The roads were slippery on rainy days, and no one was willing to risk flipping their carriage to set off.
With nothing else to do, the guests in the main hall gathered together to chat.
By the window on the west side sat a pear seller talking to a man at the same table who appeared to be a broker.
Beneath the table sat a basket of juicy, golden yellow pears.
By a table near the stairs on the east side sat a sharpener carrying a bench, currently sharpening scissors. In a basket at his feet were whetstones, wooden handles, and similar tools.
At the table near the doorway sat a father and son who looked like traveling performers who performed street tricks, seasoned performers who spent their years wandering the realm.
Outside the entrance leaned a scruffy beggar in tattered clothes, sleeping while hugging a wine gourd and muttering unintelligibly—perhaps in his sleep.
What drew Nan Zhi's attention the most, however, was a nun sitting alone in a corner by the west window.
The nun appeared advanced in age, around fifty or so, with a benevolent face and gentle eyes. Her cloth robe was patched over and over, worn threadbare and fading around her shoulders and elbows.
She had just ordered a bowl of plain noodles and was eating slowly, taking every bite with great patience and treasuring every morsel.
It was as though what she ate wasn't flavorless plain noodles, but some exquisite delicacy.
When finished, the nun lifted the bowl and drank every last drop of noodle broth. Then she poured a little tea into the bowl and used a pancake to wipe clean and consume the remaining bits at the bottom.
She remained utterly focused throughout, appearing entirely unaware of Nan Zhi's gaze.
Or perhaps she had noticed, but didn't feel offended in the slightest.
Seeing Nan Zhi staring so intently, the nun wasn't angry. She simply pressed her palms together toward her, smiling with a kind and gentle demeanor:
“Greetings, little benefactor.”
“Greetings, Master.”
Free of any embarrassment at being caught staring, Nan Zhi imitated her posture to return the greeting before naturally pulling back her gaze:
“Seeing you eat with such relish just now unconsciously stimulated my own appetite. My apologies for disturbing you.”
“It is no matter.”
The nun gave a gentle smile, a trace of inexplicable appreciation flashing in her eyes:
“At your young age, to possess such a mind and temperament is good, very good.”
【???: ???】
Name unknown, level unknown.
There was only one explanation for this situation:
The other party's cultivation far surpassed Nan Zhi's.
A senior among seniors!
Nan Zhi instinctively leaned back.
Rate on N.U.
