Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 71

Shivers deftly ran down the hillside along the path, his dark cloak rising behind him like a small flag.

Although it was still quite dark, he effortlessly dodged protruding old tree roots and thorny bushes, reaching a large oak tree where his horse from the journey was tied.

It was getting a bit late.

He mounted his horse, looked back at the woods once more, and confirmed in his mind that the digging tools had indeed been destroyed before he rode across the hedge, not looking back, and hurried towards the city.

Recent travels had made him very familiar with the road. Although he started later than planned, he still saw the city gates before dawn—a city built against a mountain, with stone walls spiraling up the mountain body, every thirty to forty steps marked by a square arch, but without doors.

This design was meant for ease of defense during war, as the narrow gateways allowed only two horses to pass abreast, and in emergencies, rows of barriers could be quickly dropped down, which was very convenient.

However, since the main city on the mountain had limited space and the population increased during a period of stability, the people began to expand outwards. These gates rarely used barriers anymore and gradually became a nuisance during peacetime. Not only did they restrict the width of flatbed carts used for delivering goods, but they also limited the size of wealthy people’s carriages.

But this greatly facilitated those with ulterior motives, like Shivers.

His speed was so fast that even though a few early-rising water carriers climbed the stone walls to look down upon hearing the rapid hoofbeats, they could only see a shadow flash by like lightning and then disappear into the darkness.

Vanilla Street was still asleep in the dawn light, with only one or two particularly meticulous large houses showing faint candlelight flickering, but the movements were very subtle, as if a silent ghost was wandering through the houses—those were early-rising maids, quietly taking care of pets and preparing everything needed for their masters to start the day.

Shivers led his horse into the stable attached to a two-story building. He didn’t light any lamps and fed the horse in the dark, then entered the house through the back door.

His hired maid’s room was near the entrance hall, so he didn’t disturb her.

By the time the plump middle-aged woman knocked on his door with a slice of bread, Shivers had already changed into his morning robe, looking as if he had just been woken up.

In another two hours, the handyman arranged by his landlord would come to clean.

Shivers sat by the bay window on the first floor, sipping tea with the curtains drawn high. The morning sun streamed through the glass, making his blond hair shine brilliantly, almost as if he himself was glowing.

This sight had recently become a hot topic in the neighborhood—after an early-rising cook saw it, the Knight Commander’s enhanced beauty spread quickly like a spilled cup of tea. A few days later, some high-born ladies and young misses even had their carriages detour past his door as a pretense of an afternoon outing, but most women, who typically rose in the afternoon, missed the spectacle.

No one could tell that this man wandered in the rural woods almost daily, constantly digging, making holes, and… examining corpses.

When he had passed by the manor with Eugene, he had learned of the wicked acts committed there. Many innocent lives were lost, and the riverside woods were a dumping ground for bodies.

Given the secluded nature of Thorn Manor, infiltrating it in a short time wasn’t feasible, so he instead rented a house in town to keep under the radar, spending several nights in the woods searching for the burial sites—he wasn’t a professional doctor, but his basic medical knowledge was enough to determine obvious causes of death and characteristics.

He had exhumed all the bodies he could find that weren’t buried too deeply. The difficulty of digging in winter, coupled with the low temperatures slowing down decomposition, allowed him to nearly figure out a common trait among the victims of Thorn Manor: they were all women, and most had given birth.

The Knight Commander lowered his eyes and seemed to be intently reading the morning paper spread out on the table, but in reality, he was fighting the fatigue from his late-night activities, trying to piece together more useful information, until the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the cleaning staff assigned by his landlord.

He had rented this house, situated at the edge of a wealthy area, under the guise of a traveler, and the landlord was a very rich merchant.

His wife, a naive woman of wealth, had easily agreed to temporarily rent out this unused house to him, likely charmed by his handsome blond hair. She also generously provided a cook-maid and, additionally, a day laborer for cleaning, paid by the day.

This arrangement was somewhat modest, but Shivers’ persona as an unknown traveler made it seem reasonable and also reduced the risk of being discovered during his nocturnal outings.

The maid who originally came to help was a round-faced brunette young girl, but for some reason, she was replaced by the current middle-aged woman after two days.

Women’s excessive enthusiasm was no surprise to Shivers. To some extent, he was quite adept at leveraging this favor—however, he maintained that he was different from those who explicitly traded charm for a luxurious life. If it weren’t for work factors, he would rather engage in a purely romantic journey with women, unrelated to benefits.

But extraordinary times called for extraordinary measures.

The maid added a small portion of salt-flavored baked biscuits and also handed him a letter brought by the janitor: from his landlady.

The generous woman had just become pregnant, so her emotions were somewhat unstable, often needing the comfort of friends, thus almost daily hosting semi-formal tea parties at her home, which were quite lively.

Her undisturbed husband had found a reason to leave town, leaving the domain to a group of chattering women, intensifying the wife’s activities—this was the third invitation Shivers had received.

Inviting a single male tenant to a women’s tea party was somewhat inappropriate, but the landlord couple didn’t mind.

Having a knightly title, Shivers understood why—the landlady was essentially a naive woman, eager for joy. Her enthusiasm for the handsome tenant was probably not entirely romantic but more akin to the excitement of showing off a prized pet to all her friends.

Moreover, these gatherings weren’t exclusively attended by Shivers. There were also several couples present, so even though Shivers’s handsome appearance stirred quite a discussion in their social circle, the landlord made no comment.

Typically, male guests would play cards in the smoking room during the tea party, while Shivers was often invited to sit at the ladies’ table for conversation.

This arrangement was somewhat unconventional, but since it was a private, informal gathering and not widely publicized, no one made a fuss about it.

As a gentleman, Shivers didn’t mind chatting with a few ladies. Unlike most men, he didn’t consider frequent tea parties to be a wasteful extravagance.

After all, it was because men imposed too many restrictions on their wives and daughters, not allowing them to engage in truly meaningful work, and then turned around to criticize them for being idle.

Because of Erica, Shivers was well aware of the heights women could reach, so even though he knew their attitudes weren’t entirely serious, he wasn’t upset by it—especially since he genuinely found women charming and didn’t mind being used as a way to pass the time.

Unlike some shameless individuals who swindled women’s wealth.

Shivers was reminded of the Fox he had seen at the banquet.

That man’s haughty demeanor was eye-opening. Shivers had never seen anyone manage to be so choosy and arrogantly reliant on someone else’s support.

This was a bit unusual for Shivers, who adhered to chivalrous values. He preferred to go along with their conversations, telling amusing jokes to make them laugh…

“Green?” Mrs. Doug interjected, puzzled.

Shivers came back to his senses, showing a warm smile.

“What were you thinking about?” Mrs. Doug gently tapped his hand with her fan.

“I was thinking that the rain came quite suddenly, hoping Mrs. Dolly and the others brought umbrellas so they wouldn’t get wet,” he said softly.

Mrs. Doug’s slight displeasure immediately dissipated, and she also looked out the window. “Yes, it’s going to get colder again with the rain… How strange today is. Dolly and Peter are never late.”

This was Green’s second time attending their tea party, but Mrs. Doug wasn’t surprised he had already remembered all her friends’ names—even though he didn’t have a title and his finances seemed slightly strained, this charming tenant was a true gentleman.

Mrs. Doug felt a bit proud. She kept her house well-maintained, never allowing it to look old and neglected due to disuse, for which her husband paid extra each year for lawn care and indoor cleaning, but it was well worth it.

Didn’t Green choose her house for this very reason?

This young traveler was suave and well-traveled, and Mrs. Doug could hardly keep herself from bragging about this handsome tenant to all her friends, except for those who were particularly outrageous and liked to stir up trouble; she did not want them doing anything indecent at her dignified tea parties, leading Mr. Green to think her friends were of that sort.

“Isn’t that Dolly’s carriage?” Another lady sitting by the window suddenly spoke up, pointing outside.

The Doug residence faced the street, and, as the male homeowner preferred an unobstructed view, the front yard had no vegetation blocking the sightline. Hearing this, everyone looked and saw a small ebony carriage turning the corner and heading their way.

“It looks like it. I thought they wouldn’t come because of the rain,” said the lady who first noticed the carriage, her tone a mix of happiness and regret.

“They must have been caught in the rain halfway here,” Mrs. Doug whispered, instructing her maid to prepare a pot of hot pepper tea to prevent her friends from catching a cold on the way.

Fifteen minutes later, the maid came upstairs and quietly informed the mistress that Mr. and Mrs. Peter had brought an extra guest.

Mrs. Doug was surprised. “She didn’t say she would bring someone—”

The maid explained, “It was unexpected. Mrs. Dolly met that poor boy on Third Street, completely drenched and shivering… Mr. Peter rescued him into the carriage and brought him straight here.”

“If that’s the case, please ask the butler to prepare appropriate clothes for that poor soul and bring up some wine and toasted bread. They will need it,” Mrs. Doug said, then turned to look at her guests.

“I should go downstairs,” she declared.

The ladies quickly persuaded her to stay put—under normal circumstances, the hostess would indeed go downstairs to greet them, but since she was pregnant, it was best not to move around too much. Dolly was an old friend and wouldn’t mind such a small matter.

Moreover…

“Who knows if the stray dog they picked up might have fleas?” one lady said with a laugh, covering her mouth with her fan.

The remark was a bit harsh, but it sent the women into giggles.

However, when Mrs. Dolly came upstairs, everyone composed themselves, and even Mrs. Doug didn’t appear too curious.

Mrs. Dolly was a petite woman with a high-pitched voice, unaffected by the sudden change in weather, and hurried through the hallway into the room.

A boy with an exceptionally delicate appearance followed her, his golden hair still not fully dry, hanging around his cheeks. His large, round eyes were mistier than the rainy streets.

The room fell silent for a half second before suddenly becoming enthusiastic. The lady who had made the “flea” comment leaned forward eagerly, asking, “What happened?”

Mrs. Dolly couldn’t help but glance at Mrs. Doug with a slightly smug look. “This poor child was freezing and homeless. My goodness, what could I do? If I had left him there alone, my conscience wouldn’t allow it. Peter felt the same, so we brought him along.”

The boy seemed startled by the situation, and upon closer inspection, he was still shivering—he turned his pleading eyes towards the only man present.

Shivers spit all the tea he was sipping back into his cup.

Because this poor, chilled little “puppy” was none other than Yitzfa.

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Kinky Thoughts:

I kind of ship Shivers and Yitzfa…

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