PS: I have sinned. After struggling for half the day, I still only managed one chapter. Tomorrow-I'll definitely make up for it tomorrow! The Son of Heaven swears it upon the Luo River!
"Ahem, cough, cough~ Ahem, cough, cough, cough-bleurgh~"
In Charlotte's temporary quarters in Blackstaff Tower.
The old beggar had borrowed Charlotte's bathroom to scrub himself clean. After washing off three whole buckets of black water, he finally looked presentable. He appeared to be in his fifties, with a broad forehead and a square face. An indescribable coldness and indifference still lingered in his weather-beaten features. His platinum-blond hair curled all on its own into layer upon layer of egg rolls, as Charlotte called them-old, dirty, and dark.
Despite his destitution, his utterly shabby clothes, and the powerful sewer stench that still carried a whiff of Athkatla's gutters even after three buckets of washing, the old beggar sat straight down on Charlotte's bed without hesitation. His expression remained cold and arrogant, and he showed no inclination to respect her privacy around her personal belongings. He even opened the young lady's wardrobe and took a look inside.
He refused a cleaning spell and insisted on washing himself, especially his hair. It absolutely had to form its egg-roll curls naturally.
It seemed like some sacred ritual, or perhaps a rigid dogma.
Normally, Charlotte would never allow a strange man into her private room. During her studies at Blackstaff Tower, her beauty and distinctive pink hair had naturally attracted hordes of suitors. But the young lady had room in her heart only for Aaron, and she always rejected her admirers politely and mercilessly.
Yet this old beggar was different. From him, Charlotte felt the call of her bloodline deep within her soul.
"Would you like some Swiss rolls, old sir? I bought