To Gamble

A thug like this man, having seen all sorts of people, had honed his understanding of human nature through his struggles. With just a glance, he could tell if someone was easy to provoke and how to manipulate them. Someone like the innocent and naive Young Lady before him was the most easily swayed.

This soft heart could be exploited by moral pressure.

The more generously he acted like it was "no big deal" to be "delayed from work" and insisted on waiting with the Young Lady for her "safety," the more guilt the Young Lady would feel. Amidst her guilt, her trust would surge, causing her to lower her guard, which was naturally raised in an unfamiliar environment, and thus fall into his trap.

Just as the man had predicted.

The Young Lady lowered her gaze and asked timidly, "Is it truly not a bother?"

The man plopped down beside Shen Tang.

He deliberately stretched out his legs, revealing his frostbitten toes stained with black mud, so Shen Tang could see his severely worn straw sandals. He said heartily and magnanimously, "It's no bother at all. At most, the shopkeeper will dock a few copper coins. If that gentleman didn't see you go over, he should come looking for you."

Shen Tang's expression flickered, her pupils darting around as if engaged in an internal struggle. The man secretly rejoiced.

Why did he dare to say that?

Because he knew Qi Shan wouldn't be back so soon!

He wasn't worried about his lie being exposed.

He could afford to wait. He silently counted numbers, and when he reached "fifteen," the Young Lady, who had been sitting obediently on a small stool, stood up and said softly, "Since Yuan Liang asked you to find me, we should hurry to meet him. If we're late, not only will I delay your work, but he'll scold me again... Please lead the way."

Success!

The man was inwardly smug, but he quickly said, "It's my duty, no trouble at all, Young Lady, you flatter me."

"Young Lady, we'll go this way." The man gestured in the direction Qi Shan had previously left, pretending to lead the way while also solicitously taking the rope of the motorcycle from Shen Tang's hand. He added, "Fanghua Inn is some distance from here. Young Lady, would you like to ride it?"

Throughout the entire process, the man acted with great propriety and discretion, subtly increasing Shen Tang's trust in his identity as a "helper at Fanghua Inn." Shen Tang indeed didn't suspect him and struggled clumsily to climb onto the back of the motorcycle. The man glanced at the motorcycle out of the corner of his eye, holding the rope, and chatted casually with Shen Tang, "This one doesn't look like a horse?"

The docile Young Lady answered every question.

"The motorcycle is a mule."

"A mule?"

The man secretly calculated how much this mule could fetch.

Even though it was a mule and not a horse, this mule called "Motorcycle" was beautiful, pure white all over, and as tall as an average adult man, looking quite valuable. If he found a way to sell it, he might get a high price.

At this moment, the man walked ahead, leading the motorcycle, showing Shen Tang only his back. Naturally, he wasn't afraid of her seeing his expression. The smugness and greed on his face were almost overflowing. The nearby vendors, who had been secretly observing the situation, sighed and muttered – some people truly court death and can't be stopped.

In the hands of such a thug, this Young Lady was finished.

There was a butcher shop two stalls down from a wine shop.

The butcher at the meat stall saw Shen Tang foolishly leave with the thug. His expression changed several times. Gritting his teeth, he slammed his boning knife onto the chopping block and grabbed another cleaver. Before he could step out of the shop, his elderly parents, who were working inside, stopped him, giving him stern looks.

The butcher didn't struggle but watched Shen Tang's retreating figure shrink into a small dot before he let out a long sigh.

"What a sin!" He wiped his face with his greasy hand, suppressing the urge to intervene, and cursed, "What kind of rotten world is this!"

It was unclear whether he was cursing the thug or himself.

Adjusting his mindset, he returned to his work in front of the butcher shop.

A customer who came to buy something suddenly said.

"That young gentleman will be fine."

The butcher froze, "What?"

The customer repeated with a smile.

"That young gentleman will be fine. On the contrary, the one deceiving her is the one whose life is hanging by a thread."

The butcher's eyes widened in surprise. He was still holding his knife and gestured angrily, "What nonsense are you spouting, old man?"

The customer was unfazed and smiled calmly, "Shall we make a bet?"

Hearing the customer say Shen Tang would be fine, the butcher relaxed slightly. Then he thought again and felt the customer was talking nonsense.

What young gentleman?

The one being led away was clearly a handsome and pretty Young Lady.

He snorted in dissatisfaction, "You old pervert, your eyes aren't sharp, and your mind is muddled. You just spout lies to fool people, you can't even tell if it's a man or a woman. You want to bet? How do you want to bet?"

The customer said, "That young gentleman will return safely within half an hour. If I win, you give me today's offal."

The butcher agreed without a second thought.

It was just a few pounds of unwanted offal; the bet wasn't significant.

He knew this customer. He was a kitchen helper bought by Moonlit Pavilion. He always bought some unwanted offal when he came. Unlike others from Moonlit Pavilion, he didn't have any subservient flattery. Instead, he was like a scholar, possessing an indescribable elegance, which the butcher found likable. He always gave him a little extra when weighing the offal.

He came as usual today, but unexpectedly started talking nonsense.

The butcher said, "What if I win?"

The customer replied, "I'll buy an extra pound of offal."

The butcher said irritably, "An extra pound of offal, how much more can I earn? Fine, let's bet!"

After a while, the butcher cut half a pound of bone scraps, wrapped them in lotus leaves, and put them with the offal. He tapped the butcher's block with his finger and said, "If the person comes back, I'll give you this half pound too."

Although there wasn't much meat on the bone scraps, they could still be used to make a pot of stew.

The guest was so thin he was practically skin and bones. The butcher felt a pang of sympathy and genuinely hoped the guest would win, and that the Young Lady would be safe. It would be like accumulating good karma for himself, making him feel better.

The guest clasped his hands in a bow. "Thank you."

The butcher muttered, "That gesture looks pretty convincing."

What kind of place was the Moonlit Pavilion?

A place for men and women to seek pleasure.

This guest claimed to be a helper doing rough work in the kitchen, but he was a slave bought by the Moonlit Pavilion. To put it bluntly, he was from the lowest of the low. Yet, such a person was imitating the mannerisms of a scholar, and had been mocked for it. The butcher also felt he was putting on airs.

However, the butcher didn't laugh.

It was only because the guest truly had a good disposition.

He felt comfortable talking to him.

Half an hour passed, and the butcher grew anxious. He kept glancing in the direction Shen Tang and the other had disappeared, and asked the guest, "Old man, why did you call that a young master just now? That was clearly a little girl."

The guest didn't seem to mind the butcher's impolite address at all. Instead, he smiled and pointed to the area around his waist.

The butcher was confused. "What? Does your back hurt?"

The guest said, "The Literary Heart Sigil."

The butcher froze. "What?"

The guest continued, "She has a Literary Heart Sigil. Although it's not as powerful as that of an ordinary warrior, it's more than enough to deal with a regular person."

The butcher: "..."

As an ordinary person, even if he hadn't seen a "Literary Heart Sigil" before, he had heard of it. Naturally, he knew what possessing such a thing meant.

"Why didn't I see it?"

The butcher recalled, only remembering that pretty, beautiful face.

The guest said, "That Literary Heart Sigil is colorless and transparent like crystal. If you don't pay close attention, it's very easy to overlook."

Because of the Literary Heart and Martial Gall, it was currently popular for men to wear sigils or accessories similar to tiger tallies when they went out. Ordinary sigils and Literary Heart Sigils were difficult to distinguish. It was hard for ordinary people to tell the difference immediately.