Chapter 60: This Is Too Unfair Part 1

Before going to sleep, An Luo bowed slightly to Meieruita and said, “I don’t like sleeping with things on. Could you help me take it off?”

It was an excuse. An Luo couldn’t remove the Blue Gem Pendant himself, but he worried that suddenly asking Meieruita to do it later when he planned to escape would arouse suspicion. Taking it off and carrying it directly would be like carrying a time bomb. It was better to prepare early.

An Luo had no intention of taking anything related to Meieruita with him—not even anything Meieruita had touched.

He thought carefully and decided the notebook he bought at the Wizard Tower wasn’t reliable either. While Meieruita was handling the formalities, he asked the steward for a new one, made entirely by ordinary hands—absolutely clean and dependable.

He planned to copy everything from the diary onto it when alone, then burn the original before leaving.

Anyway, in the Wizard Tower, he had plenty of time. Meieruita was busy, so it was easy to copy things when he wasn’t around.

Meieruita’s cool fingers lightly touched the back of An Luo’s neck. He did something unknown, and the chain came undone. The blue pendant lay in Meieruita’s pale palm.

Under the dim yellow lamplight, his face was somewhat blurred.

“I’ll put it back on when you wake up.”

An Luo lifted the covers and lay down. “Sure!”

The bed was large enough to fit two quilts without needing the wall. Meieruita blew out the candle and got onto the bed from the other side.

In An Luo’s original text, Meieruita only took this external task after advancing to High-Level Apprentice.

Wizard Apprentices were heavily suppressed in the Wizard Tower, but once they left, their status became immensely prestigious. Ordinary people had to bow to them, and even nobles had to nod and bow.

Thus, tasks outside the Wizard Tower were always in high demand.

But Meieruita didn’t think that way.

He could have taken the task of recruiting new people outside the Wizard Tower as a Mid-Level Apprentice, but he was busy with his experiments and had no intention of leaving.

After becoming a High-Level Apprentice, he took the task not to relax outside or show off his might, but to search for some materials.

So-called searching was really just nobles handing them over for free.

During this period, Meieruita gained research materials richer than he had anticipated—the wizard’s corpse.

Who was that wizard? How did he die? Why was his corpse there?

These were all unsolved mysteries, mainly because An Luo hadn’t written about them at all.

He had just referenced an old trope: The protagonist who jumps off a cliff never dies and gains the inheritance of a deceased senior, or some supreme technique.

From then on, he practiced divine skills, appeared before old acquaintances on a colorful auspicious cloud, settled grudges and repaid favors, displayed great might, and reached the peak of life.

For An Luo here, Meieruita didn’t even need to jump off a cliff. Hiding in a cave from the rain got him… uh, one deceased senior directly.

That was the protagonist halo.

During this task, due to Meieruita’s own immense strength, the new recruits yearned for his power. He received some adoring gazes, and some noble-born recruits wanted to build relations with him, but Meieruita remained strictly business, displaying his cold nature.

Such an attitude didn’t dissatisfaction the new recruits; it made them admire him more.

Their reverent gazes fell on Meieruita, making him feel deeply uncomfortable. He hated being watched, but it was only hatred—he didn’t do anything to them.

Unlike other Wizard Apprentices who scolded or struck.

This was mainly to highlight Meieruita’s character.

Though he was a dark protagonist, he had his own principles and bottom line. He wouldn’t casually harm the innocent.

But now, with An Luo joining him on the task, An Luo didn’t want Meieruita to feel uncomfortable.

This was the third city. They were to bring the recruited new people back to the Wizard Tower.

They couldn’t just test qualifications and leave them as before.

This third city had few qualified people—only three. To keep them from paying too much attention to Meieruita, An Luo actively drew their focus.

“The Wizard Tower interior is very cruel,” he said. “It’s not as glamorous as you imagine.”

An Luo looked at the three, all around sixteen or seventeen. Though Westerners always looked older, they were still minors, so his tone softened. “The most important thing for new recruits entering the Wizard Tower is money.”

He explained the Wizard Tower’s internal rules in detail, advising newbies to pay the monthly rent for Wizard Apprentice status upfront with money, learn one or two witchcraft spells quickly, and other tips.

After his lecture, the apprentices, who had been full of longing and anticipation for the Wizard Tower, paled.

But none wanted to back out.

Because a wizard’s power was too alluring.

They crowded around An Luo, chattering questions, eager for more information.

Not just about the unknown cruelties of the Wizard Tower, but also to get closer to An Luo.

Though some wanted to build ties with a Mid-Level Wizard Apprentice, it was also an instinct to approach him.

As the author, An Luo knew a lot. He held nothing back, except content touching on wizards or Meieruita. He shared everything else he could.

When Meieruita finished the formalities and came out, he saw this scene.

An Luo was telling the noisy new recruits, “Yes, take advantage of the time now. Go back and get more money quickly. Though the Wizard Tower can receive mailed money and packages, there are mailing fees and other costs.”

“We won’t leave until tomorrow morning. Use this time to raise as much as you can. If you’re short on funds, bring your own bedding. You can buy it in the Wizard Tower, but it’s pricier than outside.”

The three new recruits nodded solemnly, then scattered like dandelion seeds blown away, running out of the city lord’s mansion to raise money and supplies.

An Luo watched their fading backs and sighed in relief. As he turned, he saw Meieruita walking toward him.

Those gray-green eyes held no particular expression, just a faint, “Let’s go. Everything’s handled. To the resting room.”

Snow fell outside, but the resting room was warm. The furnace crackled, creating a cozy feel.

The furnace and candles provided light. Though far dimmer than modern bulbs, it created a unique atmosphere.

An Luo and Meieruita played chess at the small round table. It resembled international chess but with different rules. The pieces were exquisitely carved—a noble pastime, rules learned from Lan Lian’s memories.

Lately, Meieruita occasionally played such games with An Luo, winning every time. This time too. Sometimes An Luo started strong, but it always turned against him.

This time was the same.

An Luo stared at the board. He had many pieces left, but overall, it was hopeless.

Meieruita’s chess style didn’t match his actions. In the Wizard Apprentice Exam, he struck to kill without delay. On the board, he was methodical: encircling first, then closing in step by step.

Like a slowly tightening net.

Another of An Luo’s pieces was captured.

Meieruita always started with small pieces. Sometimes he could check directly, but he nibbled away bit by bit until only a lone king remained. Then he’d calmly say, “Check.”

But An Luo never gave up until the end. He scrutinized the board, pondering his next move.

He decided and was about to play when Meieruita said, “When I was recruited as a newbie, no one told me what to prepare.”

“The Wizard Apprentices on the task barely acknowledged us. They’d just laugh coldly occasionally. Only after noble newbies bribed him would he speak, but it was all vague nonsense.”

An Luo placed his piece and paused at Meieruita’s words.

Meieruita responded instantly after An Luo played, his reactions always swift—unlike An Luo’s long thinks.

“You’re really good to them,” Meieruita said calmly.

But his words seemed laced with something else.

“It’s not about being good or not,” An Luo’s heart softened. “They’re strangers to me. I told them all that just so they wouldn’t focus too much on you.”

Meieruita lowered his eyes. “Why?”

An Luo didn’t think much and spoke truthfully. “I remember you don’t like being watched. It makes you uncomfortable, so I thought… um, to draw their attention, so they’d look at you less.”

An Luo looked down, absentmindedly made a move, no longer caring about the game’s fate. “But I don’t know if it worked. You’re so outstanding; I bet they couldn’t help looking anyway.”

Meieruita watched An Luo. In the orange-yellow light and shadows, An Luo’s face bore tiny orange flecks—living ones that danced with the flames. Sometimes they flickered near his eyes, gilding his lashes with scattered gold; sometimes on his cheek like blusher on an actor; sometimes near his lips, like amber wine.

He irritably made a move, toppling one of An Luo’s pawns.

Being with An Luo always stirred vibrations in Meieruita’s heart—like thick ice chiseled bit by bit. The hammer struck the chisel, which bit into the ice, clanging, the force rippling through the entire layer.

The ice seemed thick, but each strike created fine cracks like a spiderweb. The surface looked intact, but inside it was shattered, icy shards crumbling to the depths.

But it wasn’t that the chisel and hammer were wielded by An Luo—if so, it’d be fair, and Meieruita wouldn’t mind. No, he wielded them himself—or rather, they were him.