“Another boring day,” Sally said, swinging her slim legs over the edge of the roof, her hands by her sides, and her white dress outlining her beautiful curves. She was looking up at the sky, watching as two little birds flew away into the distance.
Suddenly, her stomach rumbled. She touched her empty belly, her eyes sad. “Sweet tofu pudding, Yangzhou fried rice! When do I get to eat them again?” she muttered.
…
“Take her back by force?” Yngwie said, smiling sarcastically. “Are you sure you want to fight a 7th-tier magic caster and possibly the future queen?”
“No, Lord Yngwie.” Earvin’s face changed instantly now that the old elf pointed it out. He had been too excited to think straight.A 4th-tier and a 7th-tier magic caster might not be able to get the better of the talented Sally, let alone take her back unharmed.
To think that I suggested to take her back by force!
Earvin lowered his voice. “Should we report it?” he said reluctantly.
Yngwie nodded expressionlessly. “I’ll get you that 5,000 gold coins. You can return to the Wind Forest next month. I heard you wanted a job in financial services? Consider it done.”
Earvin’s face lit up right away. “Thank you, Lord Yngwie!” He didn’t know why the other party was giving him the reward so soon, but he knew better than to ask such a stupid question.
Yngwie was not a very powerful magic caster, but he was a Baibilly. His family was in charge of managing the queen’s finances. Lady Sally was a Brewster, and her family had been given charge of food. The two families were both very powerful.
There had been a rumor since last year: the third son of the Baibilly family, Bloore, would wed Lady Sally. It was very common for two houses to bond by marriage.Yet Sally had run away before they could execute the plan. The Brewsters had kept her disappearance a secret until Lady Helena proposed that Sally be the new heiress.
This great news for the Brewsters couldn’t have come at a better time, as it had helped them go through the most difficult of times. This marriage had really taken an interesting turn.
It was not hard to guess that Sally didn’t like this arranged marriage. No one could compel her to marry, not even her father.
With a long life, elves had much more time to search for a suitable spouse. They didn’t need to rush it.
It was unfortunate for the Baibillys, though. If they had managed to marry Bloore to Sally last year, they might have become the most powerful family among elves.
Now, the Brewsters had the upper hand. They wouldn’t pressure Sally to get married anymore, since she was a Brewster as long as she stayed unmarried.
Earvin could tell this was a delicate situation for many houses, but he didn’t dare to sell this information about Sally to others. Besides, the reward was already good enough for him.
“Let’s go get your reward,” Yngwie said, taking another look at Sally, and left with Earvin.
…
In a study in the elven embassy, Yngwie watched with a frown as Earvin left excitedly with a heavy chest. He lifted his arm and a gust of wind blew the door shut slowly.
“The Brewsters betrayed our trust. What will you do, Bloore?” Yngwie sat down at the desk and began to write a letter.
…
Mag put the last loaf of bread aside and smiled as he looked at the hundreds of loaves he had just made. His arms were a little sore, but nothing he couldn’t handle. His speed had almost doubled.
I should make tofu pudding now. The container of the blender was 30 centimeters in diameter and 60 centimeters tall, which allowed him to produce a large quantity of soy milk at one time. Mag put the well soaked soybeans into the container.
The demand for tofu pudding seems to be rising, Mag thought, watching the soybeans being broken into pieces by the blender. “System, what about the thing we talked about yesterday?”
“I won’t do it. The lucky wheel is much more interesting with ‘better luck next time’ on it.”
“Interesting my a*s.”
“Do not question my ingenious design. I can ensure its fairness. You might even draw strength if you’re lucky enough.”
“Who designed this lucky wheel?” asked Mag
“I designed it, of course.”
“Who will control it?”
“Me.”
“Who will provide the prize?”
“Me.”
“So you designed it and you control everything, yet you expect me to believe you when I draw ‘better luck next time’?”
The system fell silent. At last, it said, “On my honor, I swear—”
“I don’t think you have any honor,” Mag interrupted. “No ‘better luck next time’ if we play it in my head, or you make a real lucky wheel for me.”
