Although he had spent almost the entire afternoon helping Evan work, Mulan did not feel tired at all. If anything, he felt refreshed.
No. 6 Manor in the Laurel District was actually close to the outskirts of the city. Unless he ran all the way there, it would take quite a while to reach it on foot. Besides, this was the birthday ball of an earl's daughter, so Mulan figured he ought to splurge a little.
And so, for once, Mulan hired a carriage that day. It was much like taking a taxi in his previous life, except that, to spare their horses, the drivers usually parked somewhere and chatted among themselves while waiting for customers.
At dusk, Mulan's carriage arrived at No. 6 Manor. The buildings outside the window had still been fairly dense a moment ago, but here the view suddenly opened up. As expected of an earl with wealth, power, and status, he had secured absolute peace and quiet amid the bustle.
Through the carriage window, Mulan could see all sorts of carriages heading toward the manor. Their designs varied, some austere and others lavish, but most bore emblems on their bodies-the coats of arms of noble families. By comparison, hired carriages were easy to distinguish.
"With this many noble carriages, has every noble in Valentine come? Or are some of them from elsewhere?"
Mulan murmured to himself, feeling a little nervous. But then he thought of the battlefield, and suddenly this seemed like no great challenge. He had been invited, not shamelessly gate-crashing. What was there to fear?
Invitations were checked at the manor gates, though in practice this mostly meant checking hired carriages. After all, the coats of arms on some carriages were quite conspicuous.
Of course, Mulan's invitation was genuine, so his carriage entered the manor without trouble.
"Sir, we've arrived."
The driver pulled into the manor and stopped beside the drive, just like the other carriages, then immediately climbed down to open the door for Mulan.
Mulan took a deep breath inside the carriage, then stepped out with his cane in hand and a calm expression. He handed the driver the fare he had already prepared: exactly two small silver Diyuan coins, plus three shillings and sixteen pence-not a penny more or less.
Looking up at the building ahead, Mulan could not help thinking, They call this a manor? I'd believe it if they called it a castle.
The manor building was enormous, larger than the entire Valentine Police Department. Countless rooms glowed with light, making it obvious that this household was staggeringly rich.
The driver accepted the fare with thanks. While he was carefully counting it, Mulan had already started toward the manor's main building.
"Sir, would you like me to wait here for you? It'll only cost another two Diyuan."
Mulan turned back with a smile and declined.
"No need. I have a way to get home."
The driver could only climb back onto his carriage and drive away. Mulan inwardly grumbled about how expensive taxis were here, but soon he had no attention left to spare for that.
Other young nobles kept stepping out of their carriages around him. Not all the arrivals were young; some were the elders of their families. Mulan kept to the sidelines as much as possible and entered the ballroom with a few other new arrivals, treating this as a chance to broaden his horizons.
Refined, abundant, dazzling, luxurious...
The seamless patterns of the floor, the reliefs, decorative murals, and paintings on the walls, the enormous crystal chandeliers, and the spiral staircases made Mulan feel as though he had entered some cultural attraction.
Male and female servants in attendants' uniforms and maid dresses were everywhere. Farther inside, a huge long table in the middle of the hall was covered with exquisite pastries and all sorts of delicacies. Beautiful, clean porcelain was stacked beside it, silver cutlery lay neatly arranged, and the servants' trays always carried glasses of wine, snacks, and fruit...
The ball had not quite begun, and not all the guests had arrived, but the atmosphere was already lively.
Mulan felt like Granny Liu visiting the Grand View Garden. Even though he had watched plenty of films, television dramas, and animation before, and was now a man of this era himself, he was clearly still someone who had "never seen the world."
"So fucking lavish, so fucking decadent. They really fucking know how to enjoy themselves!"
Mulan felt the faint unease of someone stepping onto a battlefield for the first time. Fortunately, none of it showed. He walked forward naturally, taking in the seats along the edges of the hall, the people enjoying pastries, and the men and women accepting wine from the servants.
"Hello, could I have a glass of wine?"
Despite his slight nervousness, Mulan's expression stayed calm as he stopped a passing attendant. The attendant halted and lowered his tray. Once Mulan had taken a glass, he politely asked a question.
"Is there anything else you need?"
"No, thank you!"
The attendant bowed slightly and left with his tray.
"Phew. Piece of cake. Nothing to it at all. I'll just pretend I'm here for a buffet."
With that thought, Mulan instantly cheered up. It really was rather similar, after all. Dropping his reserve, he kept walking with his wineglass in hand until he reached one of the large tables piled with food, then took a plate and cutlery and started filling it.
Come on, I can't dance anyway. Eating is obviously more important. Cleaning the Holy Temple this afternoon took a lot of energy, and besides, the ball hasn't even started.
Skip the pure sweets, take a little fruit. The important thing is meat, meat, meat!
Even on his way over, Mulan had already set his sights on the table's main attractions: the whole roast suckling pig, the neatly arranged roast squabs, and the skewers of roasted meat that were very likely venison.
He did not need a servant to help carve anything. Mulan's skill with blades and swords was countless times better than theirs. He could cut meat and serve himself without spoiling the appearance of the remaining dishes in the slightest.
Once he had loaded his plate with plenty of food, Mulan beat a swift retreat, ready to find an empty corner where he could eat.
This was not an actual buffet restaurant, after all. Mulan could hardly carry several plates piled with food, so he could only take one. Of course, he could not forget his glass of wine either.
Seated along the edge of the enormous hall, Mulan was elegantly devouring his meal. Elegantly, because his table manners were perfectly respectable-but he certainly did not eat slowly.
"Tastes good... Really good... They can roast meat this well already? They must have drizzled it with honey?"
Mulan had nothing but praise for the earl's cook. The red wine was also the best he had ever tasted, and he was already considering going back for seconds.
Mulan was observant, and he had spotted some of the gifts the nobles had brought. A few even had servants carrying theirs. The little cookies tucked inside his coat were quite good, but he had better not give them out today. Better to remain invisible, or either Mulan or the Jonester Household would suffer utter social humiliation.
At some point, a group of people in immaculate formal attire emerged from a corridor on one side of the hall. Carrying a variety of instruments, they made their way to an unobtrusive corner.
Melodious music began to play, signaling that the ball was about to start.
"Ah, rich people..."
Mulan sighed, unable to help imagining whether he, too, would lead such a tackily extravagant life if he rose to a high position.
"Hello, may I sit here?"
A girl approached Mulan and asked with a smile. Mulan immediately slowed his chewing, turned toward her, and nodded.
"Please, go ahead."
The girl looked Mulan over. His clothing was a little different from everyone else's-not quite as refined, but it made him look very distinguished. Then she glanced at the table, where his plate was covered in the traces of his meal.
"My name is Vina. I noticed you've been eating this whole time. You don't seem very interested in the ball. Everyone else is looking for a dance partner~"
There was a hint in her words, but Mulan gave her an honest smile.
"I can't dance. Good food suits me better. Oh, right, my name is Mulan."
"Mulan... Mulan?"
The girl froze for a moment, then immediately pressed him.
"Mulan Jonester?"
"That's me."
The girl lightly covered her mouth. No wonder he had looked familiar just now. So he was Mulan Jonester. He was even more handsome in person than in his photograph!
Excitement immediately surged through her.
"Mr. Jonester, could I... be your dance partner?"
"Sorry, I can't dance. Um, I'm going to get some more food."
With that apology, Mulan picked up his plate, stood, and hurried toward the food table. He really could not stand the smell of the girl's perfume.