“Ah, to be young.”
After a heartfelt sigh, Li Yuan turned and began walking toward the hotel, speaking at an unhurried pace.
“Come out.”
Behind a sycamore tree a few paces away, a young figure stiffened before stepping out with an air of resignation.
“When did you find me?”
Krieger Barbatos scratched his head, an awkward smile plastered on his face. He had changed into an inconspicuous set of grey casual clothes today, but his handsome face and overly restless eyes were exactly the same as before.
“About nearly an hour ago,” Li Yuan mused. “Near that stall selling magic items by the lake. You must have stepped on a dry branch when you ducked behind that tree.”
Krieger’s expression froze.
Li Yuan added, “You’ve been following me since I left the martial arts arena, haven’t you?”
“Uh...” Krieger’s lip twitched. “You knew everything?”
“Not everything.” Li Yuan smiled, his tone as gentle as if he were comforting a child who had made a mistake. “It was about forty-five minutes from the time you started following me to the moment I called you out. But I am curious—why were you following me?”
Krieger took a deep breath, quickly adjusting his expression into a professional mask as he gave a slight bow. “The young master sent me to find you. He requests that you return to the hotel as soon as possible.”
“What is the matter?”
“A guest is coming tonight, and your skills are required.”
Li Yuan nodded and asked no further. Although Lanqiu had given him three days off, he was still being paid, so it was only natural to be called back early.
He gestured for Krieger to join him. Krieger followed quickly, secretly wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.
He knew this tea shop owner wasn't simple—after all, anyone the young master would pay a thousand gold coins a day for couldn't possibly be ordinary. Yet, from the outside, he looked like a normal person with no mana fluctuations... Moreover, he had known he was being followed for forty-five minutes but acted as if he hadn't noticed... Was this a sign of deep calculation or did he simply feel it wasn't worth the effort?
He couldn't figure it out, so he stopped trying. The two walked through the inner city as the streetlamps began to light up one by one, and before long, they returned to the luxury hotel.
Meanwhile, in a private room on the third floor.
Lanqiu de Cecil sat by the window, the teacup before him long since cold. He didn't rise to add water, nor did he call a servant to replace it. He simply stared in silence at the uninvited guest sitting across from him.
The man looked to be in his early fifties, wearing a well-tailored robe of dark grey. The fabric was expensive, but the style was low-key, designed not to stand out in a crowd. His features were regular, even refined, but the light in his pale grey eyes instinctively reminded one of winter well water—deep and freezing. He sat opposite Lanqiu with a composed posture, one hand resting on the armrest and the other holding a teacup, as if this private room were his own parlor.
As far as Lanqiu knew, this man had entered the royal palace at least three times under different guises. Sometimes he was a distant relative of a certain viscount, sometimes a merchant in the capital for goods, and sometimes an inconspicuous clerk. But Lanqiu was well aware of his true identity.
Ignatius Corvo—the actual manipulator of the Blood Moon Cult within the kingdom, a Rank 7 mage, and an extremely dangerous individual. If he had a choice, Lanqiu would never have associated with this man, but the second prince...
“The location cannot be the academy.”
Lanqiu’s voice broke the silence, his tone cold and devoid of emotion.
“The academy is too crowded during the anniversary celebration. Students, tourists, and nobles are everywhere. Acting in a place like that would cause too much of an impact; it would be impossible to contain.”
Ignatius did not answer immediately. He took a sip of tea and placed the cup back on the saucer with a soft clink.
“This is not a negotiation.”
His tone was calm, even gentle, like a father explaining to a child why it rains.
“I am merely here to inform you, so your people don't get caught in the crossfire at the academy. After all, your family has been a great help in this cooperation; I should at least show you this much respect.”
Lanqiu’s fingers tightened slightly on the armrest.
“Hogg is still at the academy!”
“Hogg hasn't been at the academy for days,” Ignatius replied unhurriedly. “His magic tower has shown no activity; our people have confirmed it. That old dean has been researching some new magic lately and has locked himself in his laboratory. By the time he notices, we will have long since finished. As for Napa—”
He let out a soft chuckle.
“Napa is still busy dealing with the aftermath in the Outer City. Did your father not tell you? Those explosive magic crystals from last time were planted by us on purpose. It was for no other reason than to lure that sharp-nosed dog away from the academy.”
Lanqiu remained silent. The opponent's plan was so meticulous... He was truly worried now that things would spiral out of control in the end.
“By tomorrow afternoon at the latest.” Ignatius stood up and pushed a neatly folded piece of parchment toward Lanqiu. “Get the items ready and send them over tonight. You don't need to worry about the rest; the address is written there.”
Lanqiu did not touch the parchment.
“Does my father know about this as well?”
“Of course he knows.”
Ignatius walked to the door, his hand already on the handle, before turning back as if remembering something.
“By the way, I heard you recently hired a new tea master with excellent skills?”
Lanqiu’s gaze finally shifted from the window to Ignatius.
“That has nothing to do with you.”
Ignatius wasn't angry; he merely gave a meaningful smile and walked out. The door closed softly behind him, and his footsteps echoed down the corridor before fading toward the stairs.
The room fell back into silence. Lanqiu looked down at the unopened parchment on the table, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the surface before he leaned his shoulders back against the chair.
About fifteen minutes later, footsteps approached from outside, followed by Krieger’s familiar knock.
“Young master, it’s me.”
Lanqiu took a deep breath, his voice returning to its usual flat tone.
“Enter.”
The door opened. Krieger stepped aside to let Li Yuan in first before tactfully retreating and closing the door behind him.
When Li Yuan entered the room, the first thing he saw was Lanqiu—still sitting by the window, his expression as cold as ever. However, there was an extra teacup on the table with a small amount of cold tea left at the bottom, and the cushion of the opposite chair bore the wrinkles of someone who had recently sat there. A very faint, repulsive scent lingered in the air.
Someone had been here just now.
And they carried a scent he was not unfamiliar with—the aura of death.
On the Kyushu Continent, evil cultivators who refined artifacts with living souls often carried a similar aura—fragments of souls that had been repeatedly torn apart clung to their meridians, eventually condensing into a faint, murky field around them. The people of this world likely didn't know what it was, but he knew it well—karmic debt, the foul traces left behind after a soul has been repeatedly corrupted.
To be alive while stained with this level of karmic debt meant one of two things: either they had committed the atrocities themselves, or they spent years by the side of someone who did.
Li Yuan withdrew his gaze and did not ask questions.
“Brew a pot of black tea.”
Lanqiu pushed the empty cup forward.
Li Yuan bowed slightly and walked toward the shelf lined with crystal tea canisters. The water heating on the magic stove had just reached the right temperature. He used a tea scoop to measure the leaves into the pot, his palm brushing over the water’s surface—the water in the pot was instantly replaced with spiritual spring water from his small world.
Meanwhile, Lanqiu continued to stare out the window, the turmoil in his heart unable to settle for a long time.
Rate on N.U.
