She blinked, quickly composed herself, and forgot all about the mental flicker.
Standing at the door was a magnificently dressed… noble?
His face was corpse-pale, his dark green eyes like those of an ominous black cat, but his features, attire, and aura all marked him as no ordinary man.
Mrs. Brown was nervous; she had little experience with such grand figures. She twisted her apron in her hands, stepped aside, and said in a trembling voice, “P-please come in, sir.”
The young, brooding noble entered without a word.
Eiffel, who had been playing house, stood up too but hid behind the large sofa, peeking out with just her head.
Her prior impression of Mei Xiu was overwritten the instant she saw him.
An Luo’s been living with this guy lately? Eiffel thought. No wonder he got sick—scared half to death, probably.
As Mrs. Brown nervously guessed at his purpose, he spoke: “I am the owner of Iris Flower Manor.”
“Today is the first of the month.”
He said, “I’m here to pay An Luo’s rent.”
Mrs. Brown: “Of course, happy to—wait, what?!”
She gaped at the brooding noble, mouth agape in shock.
Pay… pay An Luo’s rent for him?!
An Luo had always been a tenant who kept his word and never delayed his rent. If it had been the butler from last time or any random servant who came today and said those words, Mrs. Brown absolutely would not have been surprised.
However, how could it be the master of Iris Flower Manor coming in person, just to pay An Luo’s rent for him?
This was too bizarre.
But what came next was even more bizarre.
The gloomy noble was concise and didn’t say much. He took out a silk pouch, opened it, and placed it on the tea table in the living room.
At that moment, sunlight shone on the items inside the pouch, reflecting a dazzling brilliance that stung Mrs. Brown’s eyes, making her unable to keep them open.
Massive diamonds, gems of various colors, and plump, lustrous pearls filled the silk pouch to the brim.
Forget paying rent—any single item from that silk pouch could buy the house Mrs. Brown lived in outright, with plenty left over!
Such an enormous fortune was now blatantly displayed right in front of Mrs. Brown.
She took several deep breaths and said nervously, “My lord, this… this is too much…”
The silk pouch itself was extremely expensive, but compared to the treasures it contained, it was utterly insignificant.
Mrs. Brown pressed her hands tightly to her chest. “An Luo’s rent is eight silver coins per month. These… these…”
She couldn’t find the words.
The contents of the pouch added up to roughly several hundred thousand gold coins.
Even for a noble, this was a windfall, let alone for an ordinary person like Mrs. Brown.
But instead of ecstatic joy at sudden wealth, Mrs. Brown felt unease.
“Take it.”
The gloomy noble said no more.
Mrs. Brown mustered her courage and asked, “My lord, has something… happened to An Luo?”
“No.”
The gloomy noble replied, “He’s fine.”
As if sensing Mrs. Brown’s doubts, he said in a cold voice, “You don’t know his background, do you?”
He turned to face Mrs. Brown and said calmly, “Then let me tell you: everything I have was given to me by him, and he holds the power to command me. Do you understand now?”
He said nothing more to the stunned Mrs. Brown or the equally dumbfounded Eiffel. He only added, “An Luo will live in Iris Flower Manor from now on, and then he’ll leave with me.”
“I’ll take all his things. Don’t feel like this wealth is undeserved—it’s what you deserve.”
Mrs. Brown wanted to refuse, but before she could speak, he simply glanced at her, and the words stuck in her throat.
He walked to the door and opened it. Outside stood a row of servant-like figures whose faces left no impression on anyone as they filed in one after another.
They went upstairs one by one, their footsteps making the narrow wooden stairs creak.
After a while, they came back down, carrying large trunks one after another to the carriage outside the door.
The gloomy noble was the last to descend. Before leaving, he nodded to the two women in the house. “An Luo asked me to pass on his regards. Farewell.”
The door closed.
Everything fell silent.
Mrs. Brown stood there for a moment, suspecting it had all been a dream. But the open silk pouch on the table was still there, its gems and pearls still gleaming brilliantly under the sunlight, refracting a dazzling radiance that was hard to look at directly.
Eiffel slowly emerged from behind the sofa and quickly reached out to touch something in the silk pouch.
“It’s real! Not an illusion!”
Her voice pulled Mrs. Brown’s attention back.
The two looked at each other, then at the open silk pouch on the table, faces full of bewilderment.
Exaggerated imaginings flooded their minds.
Mrs. Brown murmured, “So that’s how it is. When he first came to this city, I thought it was strange—a young man who clearly lived a life of luxury, with not a single callus on his hands, coming alone to a new city.”
Turns out it was running away from home!
An Luo waited a while, and Meieruita returned before lunch, along with An Luo’s luggage.
An Luo: “…”
Weren’t you just going to pay my rent?
Did you end up raiding the place instead?
Meieruita looked at him calmly. “I paid it. I paid enough rent for you to live there forever.”
An Luo: “…”
Uh, alright. At least he no longer had to worry about Mrs. Brown and Eiffel’s livelihood.
An Luo understood Meieruita’s meaning. “So I’ll be living with you here from now on?”
“Mm.”
Lunch was served.
With his identity exposed, there was no need to hide anywhere else. The manor’s servants weren’t real people but a type of Elemental Pseudo-Lifeform whose wills and behaviors could be adjusted. Though such existences were uncommon in the wizards’ world and quite precious even to wizards, who was Meieruita?
He was the protagonist.
So whatever others had, An Luo gave Meieruita more and better of it.
Whatever others didn’t have, An Luo had Meieruita mass-produce.
The motto was: if others don’t have it, Meieruita does; if they do, Meieruita’s is superior.
Lunch was Chinese cuisine, exquisite in color, aroma, and taste, accompanied by two bowls of glistening white rice.
An Luo’s eyes lit up. He forgot all his questions, grabbed his chopsticks, and inhaled the food like a storm.
As he ate, a blissful expression appeared on his face.
An Luo knew some cooking himself, but it was just average—neither tasty nor bad. Compared to this world’s dark cuisine, it was already top-tier gourmet food. But against these meticulously prepared dishes from a master chef, it was no contest!
“Delicious, delicious!”
Meieruita also picked up his chopsticks, but compared to An Luo, his demeanor was far more refined and composed.
“They learned this type of cuisine two years ago.”
An Luo’s heart filled with instant regret upon hearing that.
He ate two bowls of rice and, unusually for him, got completely stuffed.
An Luo leaned back on the sofa contentedly and asked, “Can you change back to your real appearance when dealing with outsiders?”
Meieruita glanced up at An Luo. He didn’t mention that he had already replaced everyone’s memories of him and said impassively, “Why do you ask?”
An Luo answered honestly, “Because I want you to be yourself.”
He looked at Meieruita without avoiding his gaze. “Revenge should be just between you and me, right? Why drag in unrelated people?”
“Besides, I like your original appearance the most.”
An Luo said, “You look best as yourself. It’s my favorite.”
Meieruita looked away.
“Mm, I’ll do that.”
An Luo continued curiously, “What exactly was your original plan? Is there a script?”
Meieruita didn’t speak. An Luo watched him and slowly smiled. “Oh, I get it. I’ll try to act unwilling, but I’m not a professional actor. If I break character and laugh, I hope you’ll be forgiving.”
Meieruita: “…”
He stood up, as if trying to regain the upper hand, and said, “I’ve prepared the clothes.”
But An Luo showed no sign of backing down or reluctance. Instead, he said, “Really? You’re so thorough. Where are the clothes? I’ll go try them on and see if they fit.”
Meieruita fell silent. After a short moment, he waved his hand, and a faint line of light dots snaked through the air, precisely marking the path.
Embracing the chance to stir things up, An Luo followed the dotted line with gusto.
As someone who grew up in an era of information overload, An Luo felt no embarrassment whatsoever. He even psyched himself up, determined to give Meieruita a shocking reveal.
When people plan to prank, they never find it too much trouble.
Meieruita took out his Witchcraft Handbook. Though it looked like a thin booklet from the outside and wasn’t bound by page limits, no matter how much he wrote, it would never fill up.
He flipped to a new page and began writing on the slightly yellowed paper.
This was a skill Meieruita had finally mastered over the past three years.
No matter how turbulent his emotions, he could quickly enter a focused state, whether learning new witchcraft knowledge or organizing the scattered bits of info that popped into his mind from time to time.
This was also why, despite searching for An Luo these past three years, he hadn’t hindered his own growth in strength.
Soon, Meieruita heard approaching footsteps.
He looked up.
Meieruita had never imagined what An Luo would look like in a skirt.
Not because he was indifferent or lacking imagination.
But because even imagining it felt sinful, like thrusting his mind’s tendrils into a blazing inferno.
Plop.
That was the sound of the feather quill dropping to the floor, its nib splattering ink onto the once-pristine carpet.
