The caravan members watched in horror as the ruthless bandits were reduced to piles of flesh and blood in the blink of an eye. Trembling, they were grateful to have escaped death at the hands of the bandits, yet their fear only deepened.
The red-robed, white-haired youth from Miaojiang often wore a bright smile, appearing friendly and approachable, but in truth, he harbored a heavy thirst for blood.
They feared that, without warning, they might become the next mangled corpses.
Fortunately, they soon arrived at a bustling town called "Xiao." Once inside the city walls, they could finally part ways with this eerie Miaojiang youth, and they scattered in haste.
Xiao City was lively, a prosperous place.
As Chu'he walked along the streets, she noticed countless eyes lingering on her.
Though she had confidence in her looks—she was no stranger to being stared at—today, the number of gazes seemed unusually high.
Had she been trapped underground for so long that she was imagining things?
In contrast, Ninth was completely at ease.
He strolled leisurely, his striking eyes occasionally pausing to observe the surroundings.
The street vendors sold all sorts of trinkets—colorful oil-paper umbrellas, dazzling jade ornaments, vibrant masks...
His gaze wandered, faintly alight with curiosity.
Chu'he stole a glance at him and suddenly said, "Wait, let’s stop by the pawnshop first."
Ninth tilted his head. "Pawnshop?"
It was his first time hearing the word, and he didn’t understand.
"It’s a place where you sell things for money."
Chu'he pulled Ninth inside the nearby pawnshop. Ever since entering this crowded place, she had made a habit of holding his hand from time to time.
It gave him the odd sensation that she saw him as a child—one she feared might wander off.
At the counter, Chu'he removed the bracelet from her wrist. "Boss, I’d like to pawn this."
The pawnbroker examined the bracelet, then glanced at Chu'he. Seeing her fine attire, he assumed she knew its worth and didn’t dare lowball her too much.
"A hundred taels."
Chu'he pressed her lips together. This bracelet had been her favorite piece of jewelry—why else would she have worn it when leaving home? But now, she needed money. Though the offer was far less than what she’d paid, considering her circumstances, the price wasn’t entirely unfair. She nodded.
"Fine. A hundred taels it is."
The pawnbroker’s face brightened as he reached for the silver. But in an instant, the bracelet was snatched away.
Ninth held the cool jade bracelet in his palm. "This belongs to Chu'he."
The pawnbroker’s expression darkened. "Money for goods—are you serious about doing business or not?"
Chu'he quickly retrieved the bracelet from Ninth and placed it back in the man’s hand. "I’ve already pawned it to him. It’s his now."
"But it’s yours."
At this moment, he resembled a stubborn child fixated on a single truth—since it had adorned her, it must belong to her.
Chu'he tugged Ninth outside, explaining patiently, "Pawning means I sell it to him. I take the money, and the item is no longer mine. Ninth, we need the money right now."
Ninth’s eyes were clear, shimmering faintly.
Chu'he led him to a street vendor and bought a stick of candied hawthorns, pressing it into his hand. "Try it. See if you like it."
Ninth lowered his gaze, nostrils twitching slightly as if testing for any strange scent. Then, cautiously, he licked the sugar coating.
Instantly, his eyes sparkled with delight.
Chu'he looked up at him, her eyes curving into crescents. "See? Delicious things like this require money to buy."
Ninth’s lashes fluttered, casting tiny shadows over his crimson eyes. "I don’t need money to get what I want."
Chu'he glared. "That’s called stealing, not buying!"
Ninth let out an indifferent "Oh," not bothering to argue. He took a small bite of the candied fruit, the sugar melting on his tongue, his eyes rippling with quiet joy.
Chu'he suspected even the expensive clothes she wore had been "acquired" by force. The thought unsettled her, though she consoled herself with the fact that Ninth had indirectly saved the caravan from the bandits—perhaps the clothes could count as payment.
Having lived underground for so long, he lacked normal social understanding. Beyond killing, he knew little else.
Fearing he might commit a grave mistake, Chu'he kept a close watch on him. She noticed his fascination with brightly colored objects, hence the crimson candied treat.
"We need to find an inn to rest," she said.
Ninth replied, "I’m not tired."
"Well, I am!"
Ninth murmured, "So weak."
Chu'he’s eyelid twitched. Reminding herself they’d survived life-and-death situations together, she swallowed her irritation. After asking a passerby for directions, she strode ahead.
"The inn’s just up ahead. Let’s hurry."
After a few steps, she realized he wasn’t following. Turning back, she found him still rooted in place.
Ninth crunched into a hawthorn berry, the sourness making his brows knit. His face scrunched up momentarily before the sweetness of the syrup washed over the tartness, smoothing his expression into one of quiet contentment.
Chu'he planted her hands on her hips. "Ninth, let’s go!"
The youth lifted his gaze, eyes shifting playfully before extending a hand toward her.
Chu'he sighed, rubbing her temples. With a resigned stomp, she marched back and took his hand, leading him through the crowd.
Now she really felt like a worried parent afraid of losing a child.
Hearing a crisp crunch, she quickly warned, "Don’t eat the pits!"
Ninth frowned. "Why not? They’re not poisonous. They won’t hurt."
What kind of logic was that?
"Because pits taste terrible! Spitting them out is common sense. If you like these, I’ll buy more later—no need to swallow the pits."
Ninth’s eyes gleamed. "More?"
Chu'he crossed her arms. "Not today. You’ve had enough."
Ninth gave a noncommittal "Oh," taking another bite, clearly unbothered by her warning.
The inn was modest, run by a single proprietor and two busy attendants. Spotting customers, the owner hurried over.
"Will the guests be dining or staying?"
"Staying," Chu'he answered.
The owner beamed. "How many rooms?"
Chu'he: "Two."
Ninth: "One."
They exchanged glances and spoke simultaneously again.
"Two."
"One."
The owner’s eyes flicked to their previously joined hands, now separated. With a knowing smile, he said, "Apologies, but we only have one room left."
Chu'he said, "What about the other inns..."
"Unfortunately, it's just bad timing. The city is hosting a flower-viewing banquet these days, and many visitors have arrived. All the other inns are fully booked."
Chu'he: "..."
Ninth took a bite of a candied fruit, not rushing to chew and taste the sourness of the hawthorn. Instead, he waited quietly for the sweetness of the melted sugar syrup to spread. His pale face, with cheeks slightly puffed, looked somewhat comical.
He stayed silent, clearly leaving it to Chu'he to make the arrangements.
Chu'he glanced at the sky outside and the bustling crowd, rubbing his temples in frustration before finally relenting. "Fine, we'll take this room."
The innkeeper happily collected the deposit and had a staff member escort the two guests upstairs.
Another attendant, having finished his tasks, sidled over and whispered, "Boss, we still have plenty of empty rooms. Why did you say there was only one left?"
The innkeeper shook his abacus, the beads clicking back into place. With a knowing smirk, he replied with an air of wisdom, "In my inn, whenever a quarreling couple shows up, there’s always just one room left to rent."
The attendant gave a thumbs-up. "Boss, you’re a genius!"
