Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 133
“Ouch, what is this?” A somewhat pretentious voice rang out. Before Awen could pull back his hand, it was struck hard by a delicately made lamb leather fan, designed to match elaborate women’s dresses. However, because of the force behind it, the studs and gold embellishments on the fan quickly left his hand swollen and red.
Turning around in some panic, Awen saw a petite woman glaring at him. “I asked for napkins folded into swan shapes. Why did you bring orchid shapes? You despicable thief. If you can’t work attentively, leave here early.”
“No, madam, it’s my fault,” Awen replied, frantically trying to remember what he was supposed to do at this moment—but for heaven’s sake, he couldn’t recall any of the training content. Although he was tall, his posture shrank more and more, making him seem somewhat cringing as he mechanically repeated, “I’ll replace them right away. I’ll fold three types of swans.”
“Do you think I would use a napkin you’ve touched repeatedly to wipe my lips?” The woman raised her voice. “That’s disgusting!”
“Sita, keep your voice down. People are looking,” another seemingly gentle woman beside her whispered. “Don’t do this. It’s not worth it… for these kinds of people.”
The woman named Sita gave Awen another disdainful look, wanting to say more, but her attention was diverted when she saw an attractive southern man approaching.
“Please pass me a napkin,” the man said politely. “The windowsill over there has been dampened by dew.”
Awen instinctively extended the tray, but the man didn’t take it and instead turned his face slightly, leaning in slightly. “Ladies first.”
Sita’s and her companion’s hearts raced. The fact that the napkins weren’t folded into swans was no longer the focus. The focus was on the charming gentleman who told them that “orchids suit such beautifully elegant women like you.” They quickly followed him towards the windowsill, no one giving Awen another glance.
Awen couldn’t believe the crisis was averted just like that, but he didn’t dare rub his burning hand back. Instead, he waited until a dance tune began to play to fetch more napkins to fold into swans—he wasn’t new to these events and knew the capricious nature of the wealthy could erupt over the most trivial of details. As someone of his background, he wasn’t even supposed to endure such outbursts.
Thinking this, he involuntarily stopped in his tracks and slowly squatted down.
He was a little away from the banquet hall, not worrying about guests leaving the warmth inside for the chilly night outdoors. Awen placed the tray with napkins on the steps, feeling his eyes burning uncontrollably with heat.
Shivers stood at the corridor’s corner, watching the young man with slightly darker skin sitting on the steps, his usually hunched shoulders trembling as if he was crying.
He hesitated before approaching.
“Sir, is everything alright?” he asked.
Then he saw Awen spring up like a startled rabbit, nearly knocking over the tray at his side.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” His first instinct was to apologize. “I’ll bring the napkins right away…”
“I just came out for a smoke,” Shivers said soothingly. “Don’t be nervous. You don’t need to apologize for a mistake you didn’t make.”
His approachable demeanor relaxed Awen, who then sheepishly admitted, “I shouldn’t be loitering here. I’m not a ‘sir’. Please don’t tease me.”
“I know, you’re the napkin attendant tonight—I’m asking you to stand here with me for a while. That’s part of your job too, right?” Shivers said with a smile, pretending not to see his reddened eyes, and offered him a cigarette.
Awen thought Shivers wanted him to light it and began searching his pockets, only to be stopped.
“Don’t you smoke?” Shivers asked.
“I can’t overstep my boundaries, and I don’t know how to, nor do I smoke,” Awen answered honestly.
“That’s rare. In my hometown, even if young people’s pockets are empty, they’d still find a way to roll up some grass for a fix,” Shivers said, his expression kind throughout, which eased Awen’s nerves.
“What’s your name?” Shivers didn’t mind his well-tailored suit, unbuttoning his coat and sitting down on the step. Awen stood beside him, startled by his casual demeanor.
Shivers laughed. “Don’t be so tense. I’m not like those fussy ladies and madams inside. Actually, I’m pretty much like you—maybe even worse off. I come from a slum.”
Awen showed the first smile of the evening, though it was fleeting, “That’s impossible, sir. There’s no slum poorer than where I come from.”
If he didn’t mention it, Awen thought no one would know this. The gentleman was so handsome and courteous, unlike any noble he’d seen, yet Awen felt that a noble should be like him.
And not those women festooned with feathers who would shout about wanting swans instead of orchids, he thought a bit pettily. But knowing this gentleman wasn’t born to high-status as he had assumed, Awen indeed found it easier to let down his guard and even dared to accept the cigarette, though he didn’t light it, instead carefully hiding it under the tray.
“You can keep it in your pocket,” Shivers shrugged, a gesture Eugene had taught him to make less rowdy and more debonair.
“The supervisor checks our pockets to prevent smuggling food and utensils from the banquet home.” Awen shook his head. “If caught, there would be punishment.”
“The richer they are, the more miserly.” Shivers agreed. “You look very upset. Is it because the misses scolded you?”
“How could that be, sir? Serving guests is my job, and if I’m clumsy, it’s my own fault,” Awen said. “And I was distracted—I’ve been thinking about a friend all evening. This job was supposed to be his. I should have been moving barrels in the kitchen.”
Perhaps the cigarette gave Awen courage, for he took Shivers for a good person and blurted out his troubles. “My friend Jim was supposed to be the napkin attendant tonight, but he was suddenly replaced by the supervisor, and no one would tell me where he was taken. I’m very worried.”
“Why was he replaced?” Shivers asked.
Awen explained, “Because Jim is handsome… I mean, certainly not as much as you, but he has been the pretty boy of our area since we were kids, prettier than many girls. At such events, we servants aren’t supposed to outshine the hosts or guests, not even a little, so Jim was fired. His job was taken by me, and no one knows where he’s been taken.”
Even without Awen spelling it out, Shivers knew what he meant: people of their lowly status had no choice, being an inconspicuous attendant at such gatherings was a proper place but being taken to a bedroom because of good looks was indeed disturbing.
“The Wolf Family surely wouldn’t mistreat its own members too harshly,” Shivers comforted him. “Even if you don’t bear the family name, you’re still under their protection, just like the various mercenary corps under the Lion Family.”
“How could that be the same? You must be new to White Bridge,” Awen said in surprise. “If anyone heard you say that, I’d be the one getting beaten up, not you. We are neither the Wolf’s nor Monkey’s people. If there’s any purpose to Paradise Island, it’s for us to live as their slaves. It’s been like this for generations.”
But mostly, the cruder, dirtier, older, and weaker islanders fend for themselves inside, while people like Awen and Jim, who were somewhat decent in appearance and physical condition, were chosen to work in the inner city, providing additional entertainment value. Awen worried Jim would end up like that, but he was powerless to help, which left him unsettled.
“Why?” Shivers asked in surprise. “Who decreed that you are slaves?”
Awen scratched his head. “No one decreed it, but it’s always been like this.”
Shivers questioned further, “Is it written in the law? Carved in stone? A divine word passed down by priests? —If none of these, why do you think it’s correct?”
Awen was dumbfounded.
“But, but…” he stuttered, unable to find a rebuttal, while deep down, he found himself quietly agreeing with Shivers’s rebellious idea: Yes, who said this is definitely correct?
“If I were you, I wouldn’t give up on finding my friend.” Shivers stood up. “Look, Awen, I’m wearing silk pants and a gemstone brooch, talking to you. But ten years ago, I risked my life for a piece of sour bread and slept with livestock. If someone had told me then that I was destined to die hungry, I would have believed it. But look at me now!”
Awen looked at him, such a distinguished gentleman, even among the glamorous attendees of the earlier banquet hall, he stood out, and several ladies’ eyes never strayed from him—yet he said he had once been destitute.
“What does your friend look like? I’ll likely be attending many such gatherings in the coming days. I could keep an eye out for him,” Shivers offered.
“You are too generous!” Awen was both shocked and pleased. “Really? Can you do that?”
“I’m just a guest,” Shivers replied. “The real wealthy are those delicate ladies… and I can’t stay away for too long. I should be getting back.”
Grateful beyond words, Awen hurried along, speaking quickly to describe Jim’s features before they re-entered the hall, but he saw a figure in formal attire standing by the door and instinctively retreated a few steps, hunching over again.
Fortunately, the lady’s attention wasn’t on him. Miss Ruby’s eyes lit up from afar upon seeing Shivers, and she nearly ran up to him. Shivers quickly strode forward.
“Green, oh, I thought you’d left our conversation to escape quietly,” Miss Ruby said. Her appearance wasn’t striking, but she likely came from a notable background, exuding an air of haughtiness.
“Even death threats wouldn’t make me do something so rude,” Shivers responded. “I just stepped out for a smoke.”
“Some new friends arrived while you were away.” Miss Ruby took his arm. “You might find them interesting… Oh, they are quite fascinating. But promise you won’t become too infatuated with them. I’d be very disappointed.”
Shivers raised an eyebrow. “Infatuated?”
“Because they’re all beauties—in every sense of the word.” Miss Ruby giggled behind her feather-adorned fan. “Polite people don’t mention their names, but there’s not a man on the continent who doesn’t know of them. Someone brought them here tonight… I shouldn’t reveal this here, but that Duke doesn’t tend to hide his identity in White Bridge.”
Shivers suddenly had a bad feeling, but Miss Ruby had already turned her face, letting the doorman push open the heavy doors of the banquet hall.
A man in his forties was sitting on the best sofa, laughing heartily. Beside him sat two stunningly beautiful young people—a man and a woman, both with cheeks as flawless as porcelain and bright golden hair. They turned their heads as the doors opened.
Then their eyes met Shivers’s.
Shivers: “……”
What had he said last time? Don’t confuse me with you Foxes—I would never manipulate someone’s feelings for my own personal gain.
Reclining on the sofa, Yitzfa’s gaze deliberately and overtly fell on Miss Ruby’s arm linked with his.
The author has something to say:
Here comes the gigolo* CP.
*Soft rice (软饭) Idiom referring to a man who lives off a woman’s financial support.
Awen was the initial name I chose for Charlie, but later felt it wasn’t random enough, so I changed it.
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