WHIT

31 - WAITING

Fabby was inside the room, looking bored. She pressed her hands against her belly, out of hunger. She wanted to buy something, but then having already spent so much for clothes, she simply didn’t have the luxury to eat multiple times a day.

“Living in the woods is in a way better than living here. Though it had its dangers and nuisances, at least I didn’t starve there.

“But then again..” she clutched the blanket, “here you have comfort.”

A moment of silence passed.

“The summer will end next month. There are still six weeks to go for the sect entrance exams… I hope we’ll be able to get into some sect safely.” She pulled the sock down and looked at the symbol on her ankle. It was a silver-colored nail in a circle. Every slave trading company had their own symbols, so if someone were to see her tattoo, they would sooner or later know which company to call. “Living outside has many risks. But sects would offer more privacy, and in our case, safety. Once we get in there and build connections, we can then find a way to get rid of this damned thing. But for now… all we can do is do our best to get into an average sect at the least.”

She took a breath to ease her tense feelings.

The door opened, and Edgar came in. She immediately got off the bed upon seeing the samosa in one of his hands, and the jasmine flowers in the other hand. However, as she excitedly ran over to grab those, her eyes fell upon his shirt. And she almost fell forward from how fast she stopped.

“What happened to your dress!” she raised her voice right away, oozing killing intent right away. “I thought you went to get a haircut, but you came back getting your shirt cut!”

“S-Some shopkeeper said that this is the latest style sister, so...” Edgar tried to explain.

“Latest? One of your nipples is popping out, you idiot!” she pinched his nose hard. “Go and buy a new shirt right now!”

Edgar stumbled back, and at that moment, she plucked the food and flowers from his hands and walked toward the bed.

“Fabs, what about the kisses?” he asked. After all, every time he gave her flowers when he was a kid, she always planted a kiss on his cheek. The more flowers he got, the more kisses.

“Kisses?” she turned her head mechanically and glared at him. “You think you’re still a child or what?” she swiveled around and stomped once.

By then Edgar was already running out of the room.

After he was gone, she just smiled within herself. As the fragrance of the flowers infiltrated her nose, she enjoyed the samosa with salted, deseeded green chillies. After the rain, the faint scent of the jasmines and the fiery taste of samosa with chillies were the best. They were as much worth as watching the rainbow if not more. “I’m sure I had the money, so where did he get the money to buy these?” although she wondered, she didn’t really bother to think long about it.

Meanwhile, Edgar was out in the streets, pouting. Fabby had never kissed him since the day he fell into the valley. So he felt at a loss.

“She changed in those few months I wasn't with her. No matter how many times I ask, she doesn’t want to talk about those days.

“I told her everything that happened in the valley, so why doesn’t she tell me about her life?”

After pouting for some more time, he came across two children, a younger brother and an elder sister, running on the street cheerily, holding hands. He felt so jealous that he turned his head away. “Hmph!”

After taking a few steps, he kicked the stone that was in his way. The stone flew over the wall and fell on someone’s head.

“Ah! My head! My head! Which bastard child threw this!”

Hearing the old housewife’s exaggerated cries, Edgar made a quick escape. By the time she came with a stick, even the nearby children ran away, leaving the street empty.

A few minutes later.

In Challenge Street, where people of all ages could challenge each other in the available contests, there were an unusually high number of people today because of the arrival of Lulu Zha, the only son of the Zha family’s head after finishing his two-year training in the capital.

And he was participating in all the contests available in the Challenge Street. From arm wrestling to wood cutting and stone breaking, there were dozens of different contests available.

Currently, Lulu was in the arm-wrestling contest.

There was no entrance fee, but anybody who won against three people consecutively would earn ten bronze coins. If they won three more, which meant six straight wins, then the reward would be doubled. From there on, for every three straight wins, the reward was doubled. However, if one lost in between, then they would get no reward. So to get the reward, they could only pull back in turns of three rounds.

Lulu was now on a streak. He had defeated nine people, which meant that forty bronze coins were in his pockets. However, he chose to continue. Today, he was thinking of setting a record for the clan, which was ninety wins, set by his own grandfather, when there were only ninety one people living in the clan. Now, there were as many as three hundred people. Though there were some characters he couldn’t defeat, he still could definitely cross the ninety mark, or so he thought.

Twenty more people tried their luck against Lulu, only to suffer the same fate as his previous opponents.

One more win, and he’d have thirty wins under his belt and beat his old record of twenty nine.

“I’m going to wrestle with Young Master Lulu!”

“No. I’m going to take the honor!”

“But your hands are dirty. Let me do it!”

As people were arguing with one another, Edgar arrived at the spot, his hands placed in his pockets. “Wow, so much crowd. It looks like I have to wait for my chance.”

His arrival alerted one of the guys who was on the lookout. That fellow immediately went and alerted the event manager, who was a big fat buy with his belly button showing out.

The manager looked at Edgar and sniggered before leaning toward Lulu with some effort and whispering in his ears.

“Ho… Twelve wins, you say…” Lulu’s eyes fell upon Edgar, whose rough and messy hair gave a wild impression. “He looks like a rogue. Well, anyone who reaches double digits is worth wrestling. He’d be a perfect pushover for me to break my past record.”

“Hehe,” the manager grinned and said, “then I’ll bring him over.”