Night fell like ink, quietly shrouding the sky. Only a scattering of stars and a full moon hung high above.
At the entrance to Fruit Basket Village.
After bidding farewell to the villagers, Xian brought Anlìyà and Berg here.
Viscount Hughes and his group had already been waiting.
"Your Highness." Karen bowed slightly.
Sauron Knight and the guards all bent deeply at the waist.
When a lord was present, his attendants and servants must never kneel to another unless their lord knelt as well.
"Please board the carriage." Karen stood before the luxurious carriage draped in purple velvet curtains.
With a glance from him, a guard unhesitatingly lay flat on the left side of the carriage's front platform, acting as a step.
"I can get in myself."
Xian was not accustomed to stepping on someone's back to board a carriage, so he climbed in from the other side of the front platform.
Then he beckoned to Anlìyà and Berg, and the two followed his example, boarding from the other side as well.
Since Anlìyà was only a little over five feet tall, Xian even gave her a pull to help her up.
Once all three had entered the carriage, Karen took his seat on the front platform—the driver's position—and picked up the reins tied to the two black steeds.
"Your Highness, it is dark, and the road is uneven. I possess night vision. If you do not mind, allow me to drive for you. I guarantee there will not be a single jolt along the way," Karen said calmly.
The moment those words were spoken, everyone besides Xian—including Anlìyà and Berg—looked at Karen in shock and disbelief.
As a noble lord, and the ruler of Black Wolf Territory at that, he was actually willing to do a coachman's work. Even if his passenger's status was incomparably noble, it was still rather unbelievable.
"Viscount, thank you for your kindness. I truly dislike being jostled about, so I'll leave the driving to you."
After a moment of silence, Xian spoke.
Then, without waiting for Karen's reply, he continued, "Berg, get down and keep Sauron Knight company. I recall you saying his swordsmanship was excellent."
"Yes, my lord." Berg immediately jumped down from the carriage. Sauron Knight then pulled him onto his horse, and the two rode together.
At that sight, although Karen's expression did not change, a trace of admiration rose in his heart.
This Highness truly handled matters flawlessly. No wonder he was the heir to a superpower with 1.4 Billion citizens.
Though he had offered himself, serving as a coachman before so many servants and confidants would, frankly, still leave him feeling somewhat uncomfortable.
After all, the carriage did not contain only this Highness. Even that Hunter attendant dressed in burlap was inside.
Yet with this gesture, Xian had both accepted his goodwill and preserved his dignity. Brilliant! Is this what broad-mindedness looks like? Karen thought that he ought to learn a thing or two from him in the future.
As for that maid... in noble circles, maids were hardly considered people. They could only be described as possessions.
Wasn't it perfectly reasonable for a possession to be in the carriage?
"Set off!"
Once everything had been arranged, Karen waved a hand grandly and cracked the whip with high spirits.
Like every fisherman who had caught a big fish and was rushing home, he could hardly wait to haul the "mountain of gold" in the carriage back to the castle for his wife and daughter to see.
Crack! Crack!
Amid two muffled neighs, the carriage started forward, and the convoy raced toward the full moon ahead.
"What will the future truly hold?"
Inside the carriage, Xian leaned against the soft sofa. He lifted the window curtain and watched the dense forest speeding past outside, as well as the bright full moon hanging overhead, thinking silently.
In this fantastical world where even eternal gods and creators existed, what kind of ending would ultimately await him?
Life, or death?
Mediocrity, or glory?
A trace of melancholy flashed through Xian's eyes. He felt like a lone boat upon the sea, surrounded by raging winds and storms. He did not know when they would cease, nor whether the dark shadow ahead was an island or a whirlpool.
Just then, a small soft hand gently took his.
He turned his head in confusion.
"I'm sorry, Master. I touched you without permission," Anlìyà said softly.
Moonlight streamed through the window, falling like a thin veil over the girl's pale blue dress.
The moonlight passed through the dress, outlining her slender waist. Her golden hair cascaded over her snow-white shoulders, while those lake-clear blue eyes quietly reflected his figure.
For some reason, Xian suddenly felt much better.
He could somewhat understand why so many people on Blue Star openly proclaimed themselves to be lovers of beauty. The world was so cruel; one had to look at something beautiful to keep going.
"I permit you to touch me," Xian said calmly.
Tsk, what a turnoff. The corners of his lips lifted slightly.
"Master, my adoptive father often suffered from headaches. To ease his condition, I taught myself a little head massage. If you do not mind, may I massage you for a while?"
Anlìyà spoke gently, a trace of pleading flashing across her delicate face.
"You may."
The girl sat on the other side of the sofa, slightly lifted her skirt to reveal her fair, plump thighs, and patted them to signal for him to lie down.
Xian: "."
He fell silent. He had not expected this to be how she meant for him to lie down.
Anlìyà was probably only seventeen or eighteen this year. Wouldn't taking advantage of a young girl like this be somewhat improper?
Xian fell into a moral dilemma.
"If Master does not wish to, then forget it. After all, I am merely your lowly, dispensable maid, unworthy of serving you."
Seeing that he remained unwilling to lie down, Anlìyà sighed softly, her voice carrying a hint of grievance.
Xian: "???"
He silently walked over and, amid the girl's startled cry, plunged his head down.
Forget it. Even if God, Buddha, and Confucius all came together today, he was lying down no matter what.
Feeling the incomparably soft touch against his face and the faint fragrance lingering at his nose, Xian closed his eyes and thought to himself.
After her brief cry of surprise, Anlìyà began.
Her nimble, slender fingers were like a spring breeze brushing over his face as they softly pressed his temples, her movements gentle and meticulous.
"Master, if it hurts, please tell me," Anlìyà said softly beside Xian's ear as she bent down.
The man with his eyes closed nodded, then shook his head.
Her technique was incomparably gentle, and her fingertips carried a slight coolness. It was far too comfortable to hurt.
Xian felt as though he were in his mother's embrace.
No, his mother would never treat him this well. A person, at the very least, could not expect a girl to be his maid, mother, lover, and plaything. As Xian's thoughts wandered, drowsiness rose within him, gradually drawing him into a warm dream.
Viscount Hughes had actually been telling the truth. There had truly not been the slightest bump.
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