After finishing breakfast and receiving a round of "map vision expansion" brought by Blind Bei, Zheng Fan loitered around the front hall for a while before heading back to the backyard.
Zheng Fan felt like a dog, only daring to roam within the small, familiar scope of the inn, not daring to run out, and without the courage to mark his territory as ordinary dogs enjoy doing. Although, going out at this moment might have the sole advantage of seeing an authentic ancient city without being hounded to buy flower cakes or pay an ancient city maintenance fee. But here in the inn, with food, drink, and a young woman to serve him, there seemed to be no pressing need to go out for a stroll.
The layout of the single-story buildings in the backyard was as follows: in the center was a small sitting room where they had held their previous gatherings. To the west of this room was Zheng Fan’s bedroom, while the others’ bedrooms were located further to the sides.
When Zheng Fan wandered back, he saw a small, busy figure in the sitting room.
The dining table from the sitting room had been moved away, replaced by a larger, sturdier wooden table.
Xue Three was kneeling on this wooden table, his hands swiftly carving with a tool. Wood shavings curled and fell, filling the air with their fragrance. f(r)eew(e)bnovel.(c)o(m)
Xue Three looked up, smiled at Zheng Fan, then lowered his head to continue his work.
"Are you making a sand table?"
Zheng Fan glanced at the area already carved. He could tell that the central region was meant to be Hutou City, and the surrounding carvings represented the city’s terrain.
"My lord has a sharp eye."
Xue Three first offered a piece of flattery, then continued, "Blind Bei asked me to make this. Some details still need to be added. For now, I’m just carving out a rough approximation. Our next goal is to establish a foothold in Hutou City, so preparing this strategic sand table now will be convenient for the future."
"Oh, that’s a lot of work for you."
"It is what this subordinate ought to do."
Xue Three wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve, then resumed his task.
Zheng Fan watched from the side, occasionally helping to pass tools.
Several times, Xue Three paused to drink water or consult his reference materials. He seemed to want to say something, but when the words reached his lips, he found himself at a loss.
For reserved individuals like A Ming and Liang Cheng, even a few words can easily convey sincerity, earnestness, and genuineness. But for someone like Xue Three, who was usually so glib with flattery and pleasantries, when it came to expressing genuinely touching sentiments, he found himself tongue-tied. Luckily, he had work to do, so he didn’t have to worry about the dreaded awkward silence.
However, everything is relative and exists in a state of mutual influence. After his encounters with A Ming, Liang Cheng, and Blind Bei’s "hug request" this morning, Zheng Fan seemed to have been subtly influenced himself.
As he left the sitting room, Zheng Fan reached out and patted Xue Three on the shoulder.
"You keep busy. I’ll go check other places."
Patting someone on the shoulder seemed to be an innate skill of those in authority. Whether one had learned it before or not, upon reaching such a position, one always seemed to master this simple yet effective gesture. Moreover, watching Xue Three work, Zheng Fan couldn’t shake a gnawing sense of guilt, as if he were exploiting child labor.
Xue Three froze at the wooden table, remaining motionless even after Zheng Fan had left the sitting room.
The warm touch on his shoulder lingered. In that unseen realm of sensation, it felt as if threads were being woven from nothingness, gradually becoming distinct, only to fade back into nonexistence. His three-dimensional self seemed to revert to a two-dimensional image, then back again, in a continuous cycle of metamorphosis. Vaguely, he saw a figure hunched over a desk, meticulously weaving their own existence into being, thread by thread.
Xue Three suddenly burst into a violent fit of coughing.
The wooden table trembled violently due to his coughing, threatening to topple. To prevent his morning’s work from being destroyed, Xue Three decisively chose to flip himself off the table; a painful fall was far preferable to having to redo everything.
However, in mid-air, Xue Three’s body suddenly froze. This brief moment of suspension brought a look of utter shock to his face.
Immediately afterward, all the joints in his body seemed to make minute adjustments. The stasis vanished. With a slight exertion from his waist, his entire body shifted its trajectory in mid-fall. His feet landed firmly on the ground without making the slightest sound, not even disturbing the dust on the floor tiles.
After landing, Xue Three took a deep breath and then exhaled heavily. Then, almost uncontrollably, he licked his lips.
The tool in his hand dropped to the floor.
Xue Three’s left hand covered his mouth.
At first, it was just a suppressed sound.
The laughter, in both its expression and volume, began to grow increasingly audacious.
As Zheng Fan pushed open his bedroom door, he thought he heard Xue Three’s laughter. But before he could react, while still somewhat dazed, he was sent flying backward.
Awkwardly enough, the volleyball’s manufacturer must have paid great attention to sturdy quality. Even though some years had passed since its production date, its elasticity and corresponding toughness were still astonishing.
This resulted in Zheng Fan being bounced back, as if he’d run headfirst into a trampoline.
"My lord, are you alright?" Siniang’s voice asked.
Zheng Fan stumbled backward several steps before steadying himself. Only then did he see Feng Siniang standing in the doorway; she had apparently been in his room.
"Siniang, you were here."
"My lord, I came to bring you some clothes. Over the past six months, I’ve made several outfits. But since you were asleep, you haven’t had a chance to try them on. They should generally fit, but I need you to try them on standing up so I can make any minor adjustments."
Zheng Fan followed Feng Siniang into the room and, under her guidance, tried on each outfit.
Siniang held a measuring tape and a small marking pen, carefully noting the areas that needed modification.
The outfits Siniang had made were mostly based on the design of hoodies but incorporated many elements from this era. They were loose-fitting for comfort but didn’t look baggy.
Hutou City is adjacent to a desert, so strong, sandy winds are common. To protect themselves from the wind and sand, many locals wore robes and other loose, thick clothing. Coupled with the presence of numerous foreign merchant caravans, whose attire was also quite varied, Zheng Fan’s modern-looking hoodies, which he’d worn for the past two days, didn’t seem particularly out of place.
It made sense. A Ming could stubbornly persist in wearing his tattered tailcoat, which just went to show that no one here really batted an eye at unusual clothing.
After trying on the last piece of clothing and changing back into his original outfit, Zheng Fan spoke with a touch of emotion,
"Thank you, Siniang."
"It’s my duty. Besides, I’m the only woman among your subordinates, My lord. If you need anything, just tell me, and I will satisfy your every need."
Feng Siniang’s every smile and expression exuded a charm that seemed to emanate from her very bones.
However, Zheng Fan harbored no other thoughts just then. He simply said,
"As a kid, I used to envy other children who could go shopping and try on new clothes with their mothers."
Upon hearing this, Feng Siniang paused.
These demon generals knew a certain amount about Zheng Fan, but they couldn’t possibly know him that deeply.
Zheng Fan took a breath, smiled, and said, "Soon after I was born, my mom divorced my dad. I heard she went to Guangdong, remarried, and never came back to see me. My dad was a truck driver and often away from home for long periods. He didn’t have the time or patience to take me clothes shopping. Later, he died in a traffic accident, and after that, I never had the chance to have a guardian take me clothes shopping again."
A trace of sadness appeared on Feng Siniang’s face as she slowly reached out and held Zheng Fan’s hands.
She knew that deep down, her lord was likely starved for affection.
"My lord, Siniang here... I’m not a young girl anymore. As long as you’d like, Siniang... Siniang can play the role of your mother. My lord, whatever you wish to do *to* your mother, this servant can accommodate you. Role-playing is something I’m very good at, you know."
Zheng Fan was suddenly stunned.
Zheng Fan had always thought his obsession with horror made him a bit intense compared to normal people. But facing these demons, he genuinely felt he was still far too innocent. And he often felt he wasn’t depraved enough to truly fit in with them.
The door to the room was pushed open, shattering the atmosphere Feng Siniang had so carefully cultivated.
Blind Bei was standing in the doorway.
Feng Siniang was furious. She pointed directly at Blind Bei and yelled,
"You damned blind man, can’t you knock before entering?!"
Upon hearing this, Blind Bei knocked on the door panel a few times.
"KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK..."
Then, he said, "Something’s happened at the inn entrance, Mother."