The Demoness's temptation

After dinner, Hugh immediately used the excuse of delivering a favor to make a quick getaway.

Fors glanced at the big dog at Lorry's feet:

You're sleepy.

Albert, who was excitedly rubbing his head against his owner's trouser leg, looked up blankly at the wall clock, then turned back to meet the gaze of his mistress.

He glanced at his unresponsive master and knew he was indeed sleepy.

Albert stood up and, shaking the air at the two people on the Long Sofa, said, "I'm going back to sleep. I have to get up early to study tomorrow."

After saying that, he yawned, drooped his tail, and walked towards the Balcony, quite consciously closing the sliding door with his paws.

"See, I told you, he's smart and well-behaved." Fors smiled, poking Lorry's shoulder with her finger.

You seem to have something on your mind.

She had noticed this while they were eating, but she refrained from asking because of Hugh and Albert.

"Yes." Lorry sighed, not denying it, omitting the speculation that it might have been arranged by the Goddess, and simply mentioned the thing that was troubling him.

Seventy thousand pounds!

Although he knew that the value of 200,000 mu of land in the suburbs was no less than this amount of money, he still felt a pang of heartache at the thought of spending so much money at once.

This is all hard-earned money!

Well, it's nothing more than the blood of Pirate and the sweat of Illusions.

Seventy thousand pounds?

Upon hearing Fors, Fors couldn't help but open her mouth slightly, falling into a daze, her red lips, which appeared to be coated with lip balm, shimmering alluringly under the Gas Lamp.

She appears unchanged, yet subtly different.

Her already fair skin seemed even smoother, giving the impression that it could be squeezed to release moisture; a few strands of brown curly hair had somehow broken away from the rest, hanging down on her crystal-like earlobes, further emphasizing the surrounding flawless whiteness; above her pert nose, her light blue eyes sparkled brightly, full of life, as if they were about to speak at any moment.

Lorry's gaze suddenly froze. He subtly looked away, picked up the water glass on the Tea Table, and gulped down several mouthfuls of the cooled Black Tea.

Fors noticed this and her smile deepened.

"I think I overheard them talking about something similar when I attended aristocratic Salon before," she said softly, racking her brains for a memory.

"This price is fine, in fact, it's very favorable."

"But seventy thousand pounds..."

Fors pursed her lips:

"Wait a moment."

She got up and ran back to her room, only to come out less than half a minute later, clutching two bank checks in her hand, which she held out to Lorry:

Here, for you.

Lorry glanced at her smiling face, his heart inexplicably skipped a beat, and he quickly shifted his gaze to the check, knowing full well what he was asking:

"What's this?"

Fors rolled her eyes at him, a slight, pleased smile playing on her lips:

"The things you told me to do this afternoon... this is most of it. There's still a £10,000 deal left, and the buyer needs time to raise the money."

"Then why not save the trouble and save it all as one sheet?" Lorry suggested.

This problem isn't feigned.

"I forgot..." Fors stammered.

uuɡu. First update, no typos. You won't see the pinyin suffix in the address input. You can then access the first update site.

Forgot? Lorry squinted and scanned the timestamps on the two checks; one date clearly didn't match. "That three thousand pounds is your savings?"

He looked up at the opposite side, and this time it was the woman whose eyes were darting around.

"Oh well, just take it..." Fors muttered, "A large part of them came from you anyway, so consider it returning them to their rightful owner."

Not giving Lorry a chance to continue dwelling on the matter, she changed the subject:

"With these added, how much are you still lacking?"

"You know, I don't have any other money-making skills besides writing novels, and I haven't been creating much lately, so this is all I can offer."

"At most... well, at most I can borrow some money from Hugh, and write to the Publishing House to urge them to pay the royalties. I can probably scrape together a few hundred pounds."

She lowered her head, hesitant yet heartbroken, and said, "If it really doesn't work, we can sell that Mirrors. I don't like going out anyway..."

Just then, she heard Lorry's soft laughter, and looked up angrily:

"Why are you laughing?"

"You're willing to part with it?" Lorry laughed.

"It's just a Sealed Artifact, what's there to be reluctant about..." Fors stubbornly, "One member is willing to pay ten thousand pounds for it."

"With this money, is it enough?"

Lorry suddenly frowned:

"Wait a minute, why would you suddenly ask about its price this afternoon?"

Fors then realized he had accidentally let something slip and said sheepishly:

"This is the first time I've received such a precious gift, and I can't help but want to share it with others. Hugh isn't home, and Albert is a dog..."

So you get the Tarot Club to show off, no, share it? Seeing the woman's face gradually flush red, Lorry wisely refrained from continuing to frolic in the minefield:

"Keep the Mirrors safe; it's a gift for you. Don't think about selling it for no reason. Take the checks back too; use them for your research on Mysticism and for living expenses."

Don't worry, I can manage to scrape together that money.

"This little bit of money..." Fors snorted, not mentioning the sale of the Sealed Artifact again, but stuffed the 3,000-pound check back into Lorry's hand:

Please keep it safe for me.

"I'll ask you for it when I need it."

This was something she had planned before attending the Tarot Club.

The reason is simple: receiving a desired gift is a very happy thing, but if it is too expensive, she cannot accept it readily.

The remaining seven thousand pounds could only be saved slowly by writing books... As Fors lamented inwardly, he suddenly noticed a playful gaze not far away:

"Why are you laughing?"

"Are you worried I'll go hungry after giving you 70,000 pounds? Or do you think that Mirrors is too valuable?" Lorry looked at the lady with a smile.

Her flushed face had faded considerably, but it was still rosy and beautiful, like an enticing red apple in the dim light.

"Yes, we have both," Fors mumbled.

"Then why don't you have it? Why would I want to spend this money?" With a dry mouth, Lorry couldn't help but pick up his teacup and take two more sips.

"You must have your reasons for doing things, and you'll naturally tell me what you want to say," Fors replied casually, her light blue eyes glancing over.

"I'm tired, I want to lie down for a while."

Lorry nodded slightly, preparing to get up and sit on the Single Sofa.

"No need," Fors called out to him, glancing around his legs and the armrest of the Sofa on the other side before tilting her head to rest it on her thigh near her knee.

She adjusted her head position slightly to make herself more comfortable, and stretched out her body, resting her legs on the other handrail.

Beneath the hem of her skirt, her calves swayed gently.

"Sure enough, this is much more comfortable than Cushion, but unfortunately Hugh never cooperates..." Fors chuckled, tilting her blue eyes up, then said irritably:

"What's with that expression? Do you think I'm some kind of terrifying female ghost?"

"Also, don't tense your body so much..."