The shopkeeper didn't even bother to answer the Waiter. He rushed to the landscaping stone in two or three strides. Among the four sandalwood screens depicting plum blossoms, orchids, bamboo, and chrysanthemums, one of them was indeed slanted slightly open by an inch, shifted from its original position.
This meant there was a breach in the formation.
As if all his bones had been pulled out, he slumped onto the ground. His face alternated between pale and green as he screamed in despair and breakdown, "It got out! How, how did it run out!"
"Shopkeeper, what got out?" The Waiter was quite frightened by this scene.
The shopkeeper usually cared most about appearances. His plump body was wrapped in fine silks and satins, and he often took a long time dressing up in his room before coming out. Although he was fat and greasy, his air of wealth was comparable to that of a young master from a prominent family.
When had anyone ever seen him in such a terrified and miserable state?
"Trash!" The shopkeeper suddenly sprang up from the ground, the flesh all over his body trembling. He pointed at the Waiter's nose and cursed, "Didn't I tell you to guard the outside windows with your lives? Which window was opened?! Speak!"
"I..." The Waiter's tongue tied, unable to spit out a single word.
There was an unwritten rule in the inn: after nightfall, opening windows was absolutely forbidden.
So whenever guests arrived, the staff would always put on a smiling face and give a speech, instructing the guests to keep their windows closed at night.
However, there were always some who wouldn't listen to advice. Therefore, the shopkeeper assigned staff to take turns keeping watch every night, specifically keeping an eye on those window lattices. If they saw any window that wasn't closed tightly, they would use a long, thin bamboo pole to quietly reach up and close it for them.
If asked the next day, they would just make the excuse that the wind was strong at night, and it closed on its own, vaguely brushing it off.
Tonight it was his turn to be on duty, but he didn't know what bad thing he had eaten. He got an upset stomach and ran to the outhouse trip after trip.
Coupled with knowing the shopkeeper was not in the inn, he felt lazy and simply huddled in the outhouse to waste time.
After all, the wind was cold and the dew was heavy outside. Although the outhouse was a bit smelly, it at least provided some shelter to block the wind and hide from the cold.
Seeing the Waiter's shifting eyes and evasive words, the shopkeeper grew so anxious that his eyes turned bloodshot, almost spurting blood. He stomped his feet and roared, "You—you've ruined everything!"
"Ruined what?"
A gentle voice came from the second floor. A young master wearing a moon-colored long gown and jade robe was slowly walking down the stairs. It was the very person who had given him the talisman earlier.
But at this moment, the warm smile that had been on the young master's face was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a layer of cold sternness between his brows. "Shopkeeper, what you fear, could it be that it ruined your evil method of borrowing luck to make money?"
"Earlier you deceived us, saying the formation in this hall was to ensure the inn's peace. Who would have thought that what was suppressed inside was actually a newly born infant spirit."
Jiang Zhiyu stepped off the last stair, came close to the shopkeeper, and said in a stern, low voice, "Even after death, you didn't let it enter reincarnation, binding it to this tiny space to become a money tree that creates fortune for you."
"Has your conscience ever felt the slightest bit uneasy? Damaging your karma and stealing fortune like this, aren't you afraid that one day you'll face a backlash that leaves you without even a corpse?"
"Exactly, exactly!" Chai Xiaomi echoed softly, unable to resist the urge to applaud Jiang Zhiyu for this harsh reprimand.
In her eyes, although Jiang Zhiyu always gave off a deliberately flirtatious and greasy vibe when waving his fan, and acted completely cowardly without any image when chased and beaten by Song Yueyao.
But whenever it came to such moments of upholding justice, he really did show some of the demeanor a male lead should have. The awe-inspiring righteousness all over his body and his outstanding bearing fit perfectly with his title as the dignified Young Master of Lingyu State.
"Pfft."
A very light sneer suddenly sounded by her ear, cold and disdainful.
"Putting on an act, a hypocrite."
Chai Xiaomi just realized that someone was standing beside her at some point, and her overwhelmed heart trembled.
Good heavens, she really couldn't take being scared anymore.
She leaned on the railing with her arms crossed and turned her head to look at the youth. Could this guy teleport?
He was clearly sitting in the guest room just a second ago.
With such a big commotion outside, everyone else had come out upon hearing the noise, going downstairs to confront the shopkeeper.
Yet he acted as if he were deaf, spacing out inside by himself. She had called him twice with no response, and even muttered to herself: I just sucked two drops of his blood, how did it suck the sense out of him?
If it weren't for waiting for him, she would have gone down with them long ago, rather than leaning alone on this second-floor railing, eagerly watching the confrontation downstairs.
"Is your malice toward Jiang Zhiyu a tiny bit too big?" Chai Xiaomi made a small gap with her index finger and thumb, trying to phrase it as tactfully as possible. "Why don't you tell me? Where exactly did he make you unhappy?"
Stop hiding it and just say Song Yueyao's name! I've already figured out how to counsel you!
She had already prepared a mental draft, ready to use a whole set of earnest advice like a forced melon is not sweet and feelings must be mutual to slowly brainwash this Little Bitter Melon step by step, gradually persuading him to give up.
As long as the grudge between him and Jiang Zhiyu was eliminated, the villain wouldn't want to destroy the protagonist group. As long as the villain didn't want to harm the protagonist group, then he wouldn't be a villain—perfect logic!
But Wu Li looked at her without saying a word, his heterochromatic pupils surging with dark and unclear emotions.
Suddenly, he bent down to look at her at eye level.
A shadow instantly enveloped her.
The youth tilted his head and leaned in closer. The tied-up hair at the back of his head fell and touched her cheek. It was icy cold, and threads of chill almost seeped out from the hair.
Chai Xiaomi watched as the corners of his lips slowly pulled into a weird and gloomy curve, mixed with an irrepressible disgust: "His very existence makes me unhappy."
"A pampered young master is indeed different."
Wu Li stretched out his index finger, repeatedly flicking the Qiankun bag hanging at Chai Xiaomi's waist. His movements were as frivolous as if teasing some plaything. "Born with everything. A magical treasure that others can't even touch after exhausting their whole lives, he can just give away casually. No wonder he's so good at winning girls' hearts."
"You like it a lot, don't you? Wearing it every day."
As he spoke, he seemingly unintentionally pinched the bag with his fingers. The blood stains left on his fingertips from earlier were thus rubbed onto the dark brown surface of the bag, leaving a glaring streak of red.
"Oh my, I'm really sorry." The youth curled his eyes and smiled. His tone was innocent and naive, but underneath revealed a distinct touch of malice. "I seem to... have gotten it dirty."
His bright smile revealing small canine teeth might fool others, but Chai Xiaomi had long understood his true nature.
She snatched the Qiankun bag back from his hand. She always treated things sincerely given by others with care. Putting herself in others' shoes, she wouldn't want the gifts she gave out to be slighted and played with like this.
"The value of a gift lies in the intention, not its weight. Receiving a gift is the same." She looked up and stared seriously into his eyes. "The intention is what matters most."
"I've also been wearing the gift you gave me all along." Chai Xiaomi raised her hand and gently touched the dangling hairpin in her hair. Her fingertips flicked the hanging tassels, and a clear, crisp sound rippled between the two of them.
"I can't even bear to take it off when I sleep."
