What Does This Little Sacrifice Matter

The back kitchen of the Golden Wheat Ear Restaurant was even quieter than the main hall.

Only the soft, crisp sounds of knives cutting ingredients could be heard.

The air was thick with the rich scent of truffles, mingled with the aroma of freshly baked bread.

Old Jack followed behind the attendant.

His polished leather shoes stepped onto the non-slip tiles, yet he felt as though the soles of his feet were slipping.

Not because the floor was slippery.

His legs had gone weak.

He had not expected to be brought here.

The private preparation room reserved for Private Room Number One.

This was not somewhere ordinary guests could enter.

The attendant stopped before an ornate mahogany door.

He knocked twice.

Tap. Tap.

Very softly.

"Madam, he's here."

There was no response from inside.

The attendant pushed open the door and made a welcoming gesture.

Old Jack swallowed.

He had spent decades surviving in the Dark Alley. What hadn't he seen?

He had even been involved in murder and arson.

But the person sitting behind this door made his old heart beat a little faster.

He straightened his bow tie.

He tried to make the half-burned side of his face look a little more presentable.

Then he stepped inside.

The room was small, with no windows.

Heavy tapestries hung from the walls.

A single armchair sat in the middle of the room.

A woman in a dark purple gown sat in it.

She held a glass of red wine.

Lady Charlotte.

The most powerful widow in Grey Gull Port.

Rumor had it that her brother was the brother of Faerun's city lord, while her late husband had been a great noble of the kingdom.

The inheritance he left behind was enough to buy half of Grey Gull Port.

Old Jack bent at the waist.

He gave a less-than-standard bow.

"Good day, honored Madam."

Charlotte swirled the wineglass in her hand.

The red wine clung to the sides of the glass like blood.

She did not look at Old Jack.

Her gaze remained fixed on the whirlpool in her cup.

"That child."

She spoke.

Her voice was languid, carrying the arrogance of someone accustomed to giving orders.

"Where did he come from?"

Old Jack straightened up.

His face broke into his trademark false smile.

"Madam, you truly have a discerning eye."

"He's my distant nephew..."

Clack.

The wineglass landed on the table.

The sound was not loud, but it choked off every remaining word in Old Jack's throat.

Charlotte raised her head.

Those eyes, darkened with shadow, stared at Old Jack.

There was no unnecessary emotion in them.

"Old Jack."

"Everyone's time is valuable."

"I don't want to hear a story."

"I want the truth."

Old Jack gave a dry chuckle.

He rubbed his hands together.

"Since Madam is so straightforward, I'll be direct."

"He's fresh cargo that just came ashore."

"His origins are indeed a little improper."

"But that face, that figure, and that bearing..."

Old Jack raised a thumb and gestured.

Charlotte leaned back in her chair.

Her fingers lightly tapped against the armrest.

"I could tell."

"That sort of bearing isn't something raised here."

"So?"

She lifted a brow.

"An Easterner?"

Old Jack rejoiced inwardly.

She had taken the bait.

It was fine if she was picky. What he feared was her not asking.

As long as she asked, it meant she was interested.

"Madam is wise."

"He is indeed from the East."

Old Jack lowered his voice and leaned forward with feigned mystery.

"I heard he's a little prince who fell on hard times."

"His country was burned by an evil dragon."

"He's the only one left of his entire clan."

"He wandered all the way here with not even a copper coin on him, leaving him with nothing but his pride."

"Just look at the way he eats."

"Two little sticks."

"They're called chopsticks."

"What ordinary person knows how to use something like that?"

Charlotte said nothing.

Only the fingers tapping on the armrest came to a stop.

An evil dragon?

A fallen kingdom?

She did not believe a single punctuation mark of that cliché rubbish, the sort of tale only third-rate bards would make up.

But that did not matter.

What mattered was that face.

And that cool, aloof air that made one want to dirty it at first glance.

That was enough.

"Name your price."

Charlotte picked up her wineglass again.

Old Jack's eyes shifted.

Money?

Of course money was important.

But what he wanted more now was something else: to establish a connection with Lady Charlotte.

"Madam."

"Talking about money is vulgar."

"That child is proud."

"He said he wasn't here to sell himself."

"He came to seek sponsorship."

Old Jack paused and studied Charlotte's expression.

Seeing that she was not angry, he continued.

"He wants an identity."

"One that will let him move freely through the Orenda Kingdom."

"A legitimate one."

Charlotte gave a soft laugh.

"That's all?"

"I thought you were going to make some outrageous demand."

Just a Resident ID.

For ordinary people, it was as difficult as reaching the heavens.

For her...

It was nothing more than saying a word to that mayor at City Hall, fat as a pig.

"Deal."

Charlotte set down her wineglass.

"Send him over tonight."

"Bring him to my Red Maple Manor."

"Remember."

Charlotte's gaze turned cold.

"Wash him clean."

"I don't like things that smell strange."

Old Jack nodded repeatedly.

"Rest assured."

"That boy is exceptionally clean."

"And..."

Old Jack hesitated.

He still decided to lay the ugly truth out first.

"Madam."

"Though that child has fallen on hard times, he used to live in luxury."

"His body is weak."

"Could you perhaps..."

Charlotte glanced at him.

There was a trace of amusement in her gaze.

"I'm looking for amusement."

"Not slaughtering a pig."

"As long as he behaves."

"I guarantee that tomorrow, not only will he walk out, he'll walk out with that ID."

Old Jack let out a breath of relief.

That settled it.

"Excellent."

"Then I won't disturb Madam's enjoyment."

Old Jack bowed once more.

Then he left the room.

Only after the door closed.

Only then did he realize his back was already soaked through.

That woman.

Her presence was overwhelming.

Talking to her was more exhausting than fighting with knives in Dark Alley.

Still.

Old Jack rubbed the red string around his wrist.

And grinned.

Once this job was done.

And he had established a connection with Lady Charlotte.

Who in Grey Gull Port would dare look down on Old Jack again?

In the restaurant.

Su Li was still eating that tasteless plate of shredded potatoes.

He ate very slowly.

Not because he was putting on airs.

It was genuinely disgusting.

No oil, no salt—just a plate of starchy strips blanched in boiling water.

If he had not needed to maintain his persona.

He really would have liked to dump the plate on the chef's head.

The curious looks around him were growing more frequent.

Su Li could even feel it.

A few bolder noble ladies were sketching his profile on napkins with charcoal pencils.

So bored.

Had these people never seen a handsome man before?

Just then.

A familiar figure appeared at the restaurant entrance.

Old Jack.

The old man practically had a breeze trailing behind him as he walked.

His wrinkled face was blooming like a chrysanthemum.

Looks like the deal had gone through.

Su Li put down the two wooden sticks that had made his fingers ache.

And picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth.

His movements remained elegant.

Old Jack walked up to the table without sitting down.

He simply tossed down a pouch of silver coins.

"Settle the bill!"

With that extravagant air.

Anyone who did not know better would have thought he had just bought the entire restaurant.

A waiter hurried over.

"Sir, there are five extra silver coins."

Old Jack waved a hand.

"Keep it."

"No change needed."

The waiter froze for a moment.

Then immediately put on a sincere smile.

"Thank you, sir!"

"Take care, sir!"

The speed of that change in attitude made Su Li marvel at the power of money once again.

The two left the restaurant.

The sunlight outside was a little glaring.

Su Li tugged at his hood.

"How did it go?"

Su Li asked.

Old Jack said nothing.

He merely made an "OK" gesture.

Su Li had taught him that.

The old man had learned it rather quickly.

The two traveled in silence.

They crossed Golden Glow Avenue and turned into those maze-like alleys.

Their surroundings swiftly fell from heaven to hell.

The bluestone pavement beneath their feet became muddy roads.

The scent of perfume in the air became the stench of open drains.

Not until they entered that little house in Dark Alley.

Did Old Jack finally let out a long breath.

He stripped off the velvet coat that had been squeezing the life out of him.

And tossed it onto the bed.

"Kid."

"Your luck's not bad."

Old Jack dug a bottle of rum out of the cabinet.

And took a huge swig.

"This is a big fish."

Su Li removed his hood.

And found a comfortable position to sit in.

"Who?"

"Lady Charlotte."

Su Li raised an eyebrow.

He knew that name.

Back when he had hauled cargo at the docks in his previous life, he had heard plenty of gossip from his fellow laborers.

Rumor had it that the woman controlled thirty percent of Grey Gull Port's trade routes.

And.

She was a notorious black widow.

They said she had poisoned her late husband to death.

But they were only rumors. He did not know whether they were true.

"She's a ruthless one."

Su Li commented.

"Scared?"

Old Jack gave him a sidelong glance.

"Scared my ass."

Su Li shrugged.

"I'm not her husband."

"And besides."

"I'm only eighteen."

"This is my prime fighting age."

Old Jack chuckled twice.

There was something lecherous in that laugh.

"Good that you understand."

"This evening."

"A carriage will come pick you up."

"It'll take you straight to her Red Maple Manor."

"As long as you make her happy."

"Tomorrow morning."

"That Resident ID you've dreamed of having will be in your hands."

Su Li fell silent for two seconds.

"It's that simple?"

"It's that simple."

Old Jack walked over.

And patted Su Li on the shoulder.

"However."

"I should remind you of something."

"That woman may be rich."

"But her temper is extremely strange."

"Don't think you can do whatever you want just because you're handsome."

"In front of her."

"Put away those little tricks of yours."

"Just play the persona I made up for you."

"A fallen prince."

"Cold."

"Melancholic."

"Quiet."

"Understand?"

Su Li nodded.

He knew this script well.

Was this not just the domineering female CEO and her delicate little husband?

This kind of wish-fulfillment novel trope.

He could act it with his eyes closed.

"Um..."

Su Li suddenly remembered something.

"What?"

"Can we get something to eat first?"

Su Li rubbed his stomach.

"That plate of shredded potatoes earlier."

"Really didn't fill me up."

"I've still got physical labor to do tonight."

Old Jack froze for a moment.

"Wait here!"

Though he cursed under his breath.

Old Jack still turned and went outside.

Not long after.

He came back carrying two steaming meat pies.

This time, there was no silver tableware.

They were just the kind sold at roadside stalls.

Wrapped in greaseproof paper.

The oil had already seeped through.

Fragrant.

Truly fragrant.

Su Li grabbed one and took a savage bite.

Juice burst everywhere.

Now this was food fit for a human.

What noble etiquette.

What Eastern refinement.

In front of this meat pie, everything else was bullshit.

Old Jack watched Su Li wolfing it down.

He shook his head.

"Eat slower."

"No one's going to take it from you."

"Once you're full,"

"hurry up and take a bath."

"This outfit may be expensive, but it's picked up the greasy smell from that restaurant."

"Lady Charlotte has a sharp nose."

Su Li's mouth was stuffed with meat.

He gave a muffled reply.

"Got it."