第24章 也算功德

When Luo Yan arrived at Seven Treasure Hotel, it was almost the hour of hai.

Yet the two strings of red lanterns in front of the hotel were still lit, as if they were intentionally leaving the door open for someone.

The side door was half-open. An attendant caught sight of him from afar and immediately trotted over, lowering his voice. "Young Master Luo, the young miss is waiting for you in the small parlor on the top floor."

Luo Yan uttered an "oh," raising his gaze to look.

The highest point of Seven Treasure Hotel was indeed illuminated.

He followed the attendant upstairs.

The stairs were very wide and laid with soft carpets; stepping on them produced not the slightest sound.

The walls were hung with bronze wall lamps, one every few paces. The lamp shades were wiped exceedingly clean, and the light was cast very low, illuminating only the three feet directly before their feet.

The small parlor was on the top floor.

The door was half-open, and a cold fragrance drifted out from within, even purer than when he came the previous time. Luo Yan stood outside the door for half a breath before walking in.

Ning Rongrong was right inside.

She was not sitting, but stood before a large window, her back turned to the door.

Half the window was open, and the night wind poured in from outside, blowing her strands of hair and the hem of her skirt into a slight flutter.

She did not look back, merely saying, "Close the door."

Luo Yan did as she asked.

"You called me over in the middle of the night just to blow in the wind?" He said this as he sat down to the side, extremely naturally pouring himself a cup of tea.

"I have a question for you."

Ning Rongrong turned around, her gaze extremely bright beneath the lamplight.

"Ask." Luo Yan picked up his tea, unhurried and slow.

"Is Aha you?"

Luo Yan chuckled. "Miss Ning, if I said no, would you believe me?"

"No."

"Then what if I said yes?"

Ning Rongrong took a step forward. "Then don't even think about leaving tonight."

Luo Yan clicked his tongue, setting the tea down. "How terrifying. Had I known you were setting up a Feast at Hong Gate, I should have brought some melon seeds."

Ning Rongrong did not smile, merely staring at him.

"I had people look into it."

She said, "You haven't been in Heaven Dou City very long, you have no proper livelihood, and you haven't gone to any academy. You live on the poorest street and drink the cheapest tea, yet whenever you casually make a move, it's a book worth five hundred gold soul coins."

"So?"

"So you aren't an ordinary person."

Ning Rongrong said, "If you aren't Aha, you are the person closest to Aha."

Luo Yan smiled. "Miss Ning, do you read too many books?"

He leaned back against the chair, his tone still maintaining that lazy demeanor. "If I truly knew Aha, would I still be here bargaining with you? I would have already had him write an exclusive next installment for me, and once I took it outside to sell, I wouldn't have to worry about the latter half of my life."

Ning Rongrong did not speak.

She retrieved that half-page of Who on Earth is Aha from her sleeve and slowly unfolded it.

"This part, I can tell."

She said, "It's different from all the ones leaked previously. No matter how similar those sequels on the outside are, they still lack something, but they always make me feel... as though someone is sitting right across the table from you, watching you deceive yourself."

Luo Yan raised an eyebrow. "With the way you put it, a novel is merely a novel after all."

"People who read books insist on projecting them onto themselves. Once they project them, they say it's written truly; if they can't project them, they curse the author for writing nonsense. In truth, the person who writes long ago ceased to care."

Ning Rongrong watched him, the shadow of the lamp swaying gently in the depths of her eyes.

"You're dodging my questions."

She said, "Everything you say is like writing a book, holding back three parts and hiding seven; the listener never knows which of your sentences is true."

Luo Yan did not refute her.

He merely traced a slow circle around the rim of his cup with his fingertip.

"I don't want to guess anymore." Ning Rongrong suddenly spoke.

She straightened her body, and the night wind poured in from the large window, blowing the stray hairs beside her ear up before letting them fall back down.

She looked at Luo Yan, her gaze clear and bright, carrying a trace of deeply unaccustomed seriousness.

"Let us... be completely honest with each other." She said, her speaking pace slower than usual.

Luo Yan raised an eyebrow.

Completely honest? Is it what I am thinking?

She said, "Level nineteen, Support-type Tool Soul Master, martial soul, Seven Treasures Glazed Pagoda."

Uttering sheer nonsense, making it out as if I didn't know.

Luo Yan chuckled softly. "Aren't you afraid I'll turn around and sell you out?"

"Could you sell me out?"

Ning Rongrong lifted her chin, regaining a bit of her usual haughtiness. "This level nineteen of mine isn't much of a secret either; if you truly harbored any intentions, you wouldn't have sat here drinking tea with me this long."

Fine, fine, this young lady is smarter than her counterpart in the original work.

"Alright."

He straightened his body, turning serious for a split second. "Then what do you want me to report? Martial soul? Rank? Or which bed I sleep in at night?"

"What is your martial soul?"

"Elation Mask."

Ning Rongrong's eyes widened slightly. "A mask?"

"Correct. A very useless mask."

Luo Yan smiled. "Combat is ordinary; it only knows how to laugh, and its laugh is rather begging for a beating. Do you want to see?"

"No need."

Ning Rongrong averted her face. "It's not like I've never seen ghosts playing tricks."

"Mhm-hmm."

"Then are you also a support type?"

Luo Yan thought about it. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Ning Rongrong glanced at him again, deeply astounded by this preposterous speech. "Your own martial soul, and you don't know whether it's a support type?"

"I really don't know."

Luo Yan smiled, his tone sounding as though he were speaking of someone else's affairs. "The academy didn't classify it, and I couldn't be bothered to test it. It just hangs there like that; when not making a move, it's just like having no soul rings. You say it's support, yet it loves to laugh so much; you say it's a battle soul master, yet it seemingly can't beat anyone."

Ning Rongrong frowned. "A martial soul like yours is truly rare."

"It's better that it's rare."

Luo Yan said, "The streets are full of beast martial souls, and upon announcing their names it's either a wolf or a tiger. When I announce 'Elation Mask,' don't you feel that this sounds a bit better than the 'Seven Treasures Glazed Pagoda'?"

Ning Rongrong let out a huff. "Who wants to compare this with you."

Yet she did not pursue his rank any further, which actually caught Luo Yan somewhat by surprise.

He had originally thought this young miss would follow the drift of the conversation to ask him what rank he was and subsequently ask what his soul skills were.

As a result, she only asked up to this point.

"Luo Yan." She suddenly called out to him.

"Hmm?"

"Will you write books in the future?"

Luo Yan paused, then laughed. "When did I ever say I write books?"

"Those pieces of paper you gave, even though you always claimed you didn't write them yourself, every time you took them out, you looked like you were handing over something important."

Ning Rongrong said, "I can tell the difference."

Luo Yan did not deny it. He lowered his head and spun that tea cup; the tea had long since grown cold.

"I will."

He said, "If I write a good one, I'll show it to you as well."

This time, Ning Rongrong did not let out another hum.

She turned around and, from the small tea table by the large window, picked up an extremely small brocade pouch and tossed it to Luo Yan.

Luo Yan caught it. It was very light, filled with a few beads inside.

"What is this?" He asked.

"Elixir."

Ning Rongrong said, "It's somewhat helpful for cultivation. Use it if you like."

Luo Yan weighed the brocade pouch in his hand.

"Thanks," he said.

"Don't mention it."

Ning Rongrong was still gazing out the window. "Consider it returning a favor to you."

Luo Yan smiled.

He stood up, tucked the brocade pouch into his bosom, poured himself half a cup of cold tea, and drained it in a single gulp.

"Miss Ning."

He walked over to the door. "Have you ever thought about why Aha writes books?"

Ning Rongrong was startled. "Why?"

"Some matters, no one dares to speak of clearly. Suppressed for too long, they rot in the belly, turning into resentment, into illness, into that breath one tosses and turns over at night, unable to sleep."

He tilted his head, looking toward Ning Rongrong. "Yet written into a book, they become a story. Everyone reads, laughs, and asks 'is it true or false,' and as they ask, those things that ought to have rotted are instead turned out to air a little. This actually... can also be considered a good deed."