Carl stood in front of the dressing mirror, meticulously adjusting his collar and sleeves.
Today he wore a wide-brimmed top hat, draped in a wool coat, with a black vest, trousers, and leather boots.
The attire bore some resemblance to the Byzantine style from his past life memories, with the addition of some exquisite and ornate embroidery.
Altogether, this ensemble cost one Gold Coin and three pounds.
For the average family, saving up for just such a set of clothes might take a year.
Money well spent yielded a fine result.
Carl had rough features and scars from burns on his face, which gave the impression of fierceness and inaccessibility.
But wearing this outfit, his temperament became much more refined, more like that of a stern, successful man.
Upon opening the door, Jenny had already prepared breakfast.
When circumstances allowed, Carl never skimped on himself; after acquiring money, his first instruction to Mary and her daughter was to improve the quality of their meals.
This extra expense posed no pressure on him, yet it ensured he started every day in a good mood.
The breakfast table was laden with cereal with milk, bread with jam, as well as some dried fruit and cold cuts of ham.
A lavish breakfast, befitting a respectable nobleman.
"Good morning, Baron Karl."
Jenny put down the fruit platter she was holding, looking over curiously. "Are you attending a banquet?"
Such elaborate attire was uncommon.
Carl nodded. "Today is Iweni’s birthday."
"Oh!" Jenny remembered the pretty girl, as delicate as a porcelain doll, and nodded in understanding. "Will you be free tonight?"
"Why?" Carl paused, knife and fork in hand, and looked up. "Is something the matter?"
"Yes." Jenny, blushing shyly, took out two tickets still warm from her body. "Tonight is my first official stage performance. I was hoping you could come, and you can bring a friend."
"Congratulations." Carl smiled as he took the tickets. He glanced at them briefly, then said with some surprise, "Vim Opera House?"
This was no ordinary venue for small concerts. In Sigerno City, it ranked among the top three, and many grand ceremonies were held there.
"Yes." Jenny clasped her hands tightly, her face flushed. "This time, Barro’s singing group has been invited to perform at Vim Opera House to prepare for the upcoming Festival of the Gods."
"The leader said that if I perform well this time, he’ll let me formally join the singing group to sing the hymns on the day of the Festival of the Gods."
"That’s truly wonderful." Carl nodded. "I always suspected you’d make a name for yourself one day, but I didn’t expect to see you at the opera house so soon."
"I’ll definitely be there!"
Jenny beamed with joy. She had actually performed on stage before, but only in small venues, and she hadn’t specifically invited Carl, all for this surprise.
As she watched Carl leave, Jenny pumped her small fist, her face brimming with excitement.
This time, I’ll definitely impress you.
It had rained the night before. Owing to Sigerno City’s less-than-perfect infrastructure, there were unavoidable puddles on the ground.
After paying the fare, Carl carefully avoided several puddles as he walked towards the hotel ahead.
Even before he neared the hotel, a clamor assailed his ears.
"You! Spending your days messing around with a bunch of worthless friends, calling for prostitutes whenever it suits you."
Jinsley roared, "Look at the clothes in the living room, all sticky and disgusting—it makes me sick!"
"Do you have any right to talk about me?" a familiar voice retorted. "Which of my friends haven’t you been with, you whore, you slut! You’re nothing but a prostitute’s spawn!"
"Who are you calling that?"
Roars and curses intertwined, punctuated now and then by shouts and cries of pain.
"Stop fighting, please stop."
Iweni, dressed in a princess gown, stood with tears in her eyes, watching the scene with a helpless expression. She cried out as she tried to pull them apart, "It’s my birthday today, please, I beg you, stop fighting."
Someone suddenly shoved her hard, sending her stumbling backward, right towards the liquor cabinet.
Carl appeared just in time, reaching out to steady Iweni. He looked at the chaos with an incredulous expression. "What’s going on here?"
What should have been a joyous birthday celebration had devolved into a full-blown brawl, with a group of people tearing into each other.
His uncle’s family was there, along with other guests, all entangled in a chaotic mess. Even the hotel staff couldn’t separate them.
Carl knew these relatives didn’t get along, but he hadn’t expected it to escalate to this. When they fought, they showed no mercy.
Even the women were clawing at each other like lunatics.
SOB. Iweni, her face a mask of panic and helplessness, burst into tears at his words and buried her head in Carl’s arms, crying, "Cousin Carl... sob..."
Carl shook his head. "Let’s get them to stop first."
"You sit down and rest."
After helping Iweni to a seat, Carl plunged into the melee. He grabbed one person and tossed them backward.
He was strong and immensely powerful. People flew aside wherever he moved, and in an instant, a hush fell over the room.
Everyone was panting heavily; only Carl stood composed in the center, even taking a moment to straighten his tie.
Surveying the room, he spoke slowly, "What happened here?"
Someone suddenly roared, "We can’t go on ! We’re getting a divorce today!"
Carl recognized him: Jinsley’s husband, his cousin-in-law, a rather handsome man.
That was what Jinsley had fallen for, why she had insisted on marrying him against her family’s wishes.
Unfortunately, their marriage wasn’t the sweet fairytale depicted in books; instead, it was riddled with petty squabbles.
Within two years, they were living separate lives, their marriage existing in name only.
Whenever they were together, arguments erupted, and this time was clearly no exception.
"A divorce it is then!"
Jinsley, disheveled, screamed, "I never should have married you!"
"They should have divorced long ago." Gegil, overweight and with beady eyes, made no attempt to mediate, instead scoffing, "My daughter has been married to you for years. There must be some compensation."
"Compensation?" Josie, Jinsley’s husband, sneered. "Your whole family is something else! But rest assured, as long as we divorce, I’m willing to give up anything. I don’t even want that courtyard house in the East District."
"That house is worthless anyway," Jinsley said with disdain. "Don’t think I don’t know about the money you have in the bank. Part of it is mine."
"Then let’s settle the accounts properly."
Carl shook his head, ignoring their bickering. He went over to Iweni and presented his gift.
Iweni sniffled, her face red from crying, and nodded. "Thank you."
Carl turned slightly, his gaze falling on Iweni’s disheveled hair, lingering for a moment on the familiar hairpin.
"My sister gave it to me as a birthday gift."
Noticing his gaze, Iweni removed the hairpin, her voice choked with tears. "She said she spent a lot of money on it. I really like it."
Carl mused, "As long as you like it."
He glanced back at Jinsley, who was acting like a madwoman, and chuckled softly, shaking his head involuntarily.
People are always complex.
He gestured with his hand. "I’ve been thinking of buying a house recently. Why don’t you sell me that courtyard house of yours in the East District?"
"The price is negotiable."