Silverglow City’s streets, to Lisbeth, were an even more wondrous kaleidoscope than the forest.
She had never seen brooms that swept the streets all on their own, nor had she ever witnessed little rainbows, magically imprisoned, shifting colors endlessly in shop windows.
Her steps were slow, eyes wide as she took in everything around her, soaking up all the novelty like a sponge.
Tulia patiently followed by her side.
Just then, a sweet fragrance, blending cream, baked flour, and some kind of exotic floral nectar, hooked Lisbeth’s nose like an invisible little hand.
She stopped, following the scent with her gaze.
It was a delicately decorated Sweets Shop. Behind the huge glass windows were desserts arranged like works of art—some resembling miniature snow-capped mountains, with little clouds conjured by magic floating at their peaks; others looked like blooming crystal flowers, their petals dusted with dew-like sugar beads.
Lisbeth could no longer move her feet.
Drawn like iron filings to a magnet, she slowly and irresistibly drifted to the window.
Her little face nearly pressed up against the cool glass, big round eyes wide open, unblinking, staring hard at a mousse cake adorned with Starlightberry, her throat letting out a gulping sound.
“Hey! Little girl! Get your face off my window! Don’t smudge it!”
A sharp, caustic voice rang out from inside. A well-dressed male shop assistant, chin lifted high, strode over, looking Lisbeth and the plainly dressed Tulia up and down with open disdain.
“Judging by your looks, you must be from the countryside? Nothing here is for you to see. Don’t stand around blocking business!”
Lisbeth, startled by the sudden scolding, stumbled back a step in confusion, looking helplessly at her mother.
Tulia chuckled coldly inside, but not a trace of anger showed on her face. She stepped forward, gently pulling Lisbeth behind her, and gave the shop assistant a polite nod, her voice soft as spring wind brushing over a lake:
“Sorry, my child is young and ignorant. We’ve caused you trouble.”
Her manner was humble, her tone gentle, which made the shop assistant even more smug, assuming they were easy targets.
She stepped forward again, softly pulling Lisbeth behind her, and, in a stern, mildly reproachful tone, addressed her daughter:
“Lisbeth, what has Mama taught you? You mustn’t be so rude. Pressing your face to someone else’s shop window and staring nonstop will disturb their business, understand?”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but every word was clear, as if she were truly conducting a strict lesson.
At this, the male shop assistant’s face twisted into a triumphant sneer. Crossing his arms, he looked down at them and said, “Hmph! At least you, as her mother, have some sense! You should teach your daughter not to act like some uncouth country brat, embarrassing yourselves everywhere!”
Yet Tulia acted as if she hadn’t heard him at all. She ignored him completely, focusing only on “educating” her daughter.
With a stern expression, she patted Lisbeth’s shoulder, then rose on tiptoe to reach up and gently, affectionately stroke her daughter’s head—who stood half a head taller than her.
“Especially,” she lowered her voice, solemn and unyielding, “never, ever be as mean-spirited as that sharp-tongued, monkey-faced uncle over there. Acting that way is extremely impolite, do you understand? We must be people of proper upbringing.”
That sentence was like an invisible slap, landing hard on the shop assistant’s face!
“Y-You… Who are you calling monkey-faced?! You stinking country hag!” He was instantly enraged, his face turning a livid purple. No longer caring about appearances, he stormed out of the shop, rolling up his sleeves, looking ready to “teach a lesson” to these “country bumpkins” who dared not know their place.
There was a ripple of alarm among the onlookers.
Facing the charging shop assistant, Tulia didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. She lifted her veil halfway, revealing her deep blue eyes—cold as the ocean’s depths.
She looked up and glanced at the rushing shop assistant.
No anger, no killing intent, not even a flicker of emotion. It was the pure gaze only one long accustomed to authority would have, one that looked down upon the lowly.
The shop assistant’s steps stopped as if an invisible wall blocked him, a strangled croak escaping his throat.
Under those eyes, he felt as though he was not facing a delicate woman, but standing before a Duchess of the Empire, who held the power of life and death over him.
Tulia’s gaze lingered on him for less than a second, then slid away.
As if he were but an annoying speck of dust, unworthy of even a moment’s notice.
Without so much as glancing at the frozen man, she took Lisbeth’s hand and walked straight into the shop.
Her gaze swept across the store, past the shop assistant behind the counter who was also watching, finally settling on a girl in the corner, about sixteen or seventeen, quietly sweeping the floor.
“Young lady,” Tulia spoke, her voice now completely at odds with the coldness before, humble and gentle, “Could I trouble you for a moment? I’d like to buy some desserts.”
The young girl, called out by Tulia’s soft voice, froze for a moment, then glanced nervously at her equally stunned coworker behind the counter.
By rights, as an Apprentice relegated to menial work, she wasn’t allowed to serve customers.
But Tulia’s gaze was calm and soothing, impossible to refuse. After a brief hesitation, the girl put down her broom, hurried over, nervously wiped her hands on her apron, and asked in a small voice, head down,
“Ma’am… How may I help you?”
“Don’t be nervous,” Tulia’s tone remained gentle. “Your coworkers seem busy, so I must trouble you instead.”
Her words gave the young girl a way out, calming her somewhat.
Tulia led Lisbeth to the massive glass display. With long, pale, elegant fingers, she pointed to a few of the most lavish and expensive desserts—the very ones the male assistant had bragged about as “Noble Exclusive.”
“This one… ‘Sigh of the Moon Goddess’,” she paused, then moved to the next, “and this… ‘Tears of the Stars’.”
The young girl’s heart leapt to her throat, hastily preparing to jot down this massive order. Each of these could pay for months of her wages.
However, after Tulia’s fingers swept through the air, she drew them back, gently shook her head, and muttered, as if to herself, with a hint of regret:
“Hmm… Never mind, too extravagant. Just looking at them makes one feel sickly sweet. For children, these are just too much.”
Her voice was quiet, yet it fell into the dead-silent shop like a stone into a still pond. The other two staff, as well as the dumbfounded man outside, heard every word. The casual note of distaste stung far more than any open insult.
The young girl was at a loss, not sure how to reply.
Then, Tulia turned, smiling gently at her.
“Let’s do this,” she said easily, “apart from those I just pointed out, wrap up all the rest for me.”
“……”
The air seemed to freeze.
The young girl snapped her head up, eyes wide, mouth agape, unable to believe what she’d just heard.
The rest… all… wrap them up?
That was nearly ninety percent of all the desserts in the shop!
The shop assistant behind the counter almost dropped his tray, and the male assistant outside turned pale as a sheet, his legs buckling, nearly collapsing to the ground.
His prized “treasures of the shop” were being dismissed as “too much,” while the “country bumpkins” he looked down on bought everything else in one go—a move he wouldn’t have dared dream of.
The girl stammered, her voice trembling, “M-Ma’am… this… all of them… it’ll cost… a lot of money…”
Tulia said nothing, simply reaching into her plain, unremarkable cloth pouch.
Under everyone’s breathless stares, she drew out a small handful of… gold coins.
Not silver, and certainly not copper.
But the heavy kind seen only in large transactions or noble rewards—gold coins!
Clink.
She casually placed several coins on the counter, their crisp clang against the wood resounding in everyone’s hearts.
A single gold coin could support a normal family for a month in the Imperial Capital, and she had brought out a whole handful, with no sign of concern.
“Is this enough?” Tulia’s tone was as if inquiring about the price of a loaf of bread. “If not, I have more.”
The young girl’s mind blanked.
She stared at the coins, then at Tulia’s serene face, feeling as if she were in a dream.
Seeing her confusion, Tulia smiled and turned to the shell-shocked clerk behind the counter, saying, “Please, help her wrap them up.”
Amid a near trance-like atmosphere, the two employees began hurriedly packing countless exquisite desserts into boxes.
Once the last dessert was boxed up, Tulia did not immediately leave.
She turned to the girl still doing chores and said gently, “Take one each for yourself and your coworkers, as… a little apology from us for disturbing your work.”
She then added, her gaze flitting intentionally past the male assistant outside, face ashen,
“Oh, and for those guests watching outside—if they don’t mind, please let them each have one to try.”
She alone did not mention the male shop assistant.
Having finished, she finally took Lisbeth’s hand, preparing to go.
She looked down at her daughter, speaking softly in a teaching tone:
“Little Liz, remember, good things are meant to be shared with those who know gratitude. If we have the ability to buy what we like, we should also have the heart to share that joy, understand?”
Lisbeth looked up at her mother.
Her mother hadn’t yelled, hadn’t quarreled.
She simply, in the calmest posture and the gentlest voice, gave the strongest reply.
She made the mean person feel utterly humiliated, yet gave everyone else a warmth like spring.
In that moment, Lisbeth felt her mother was shining.
Mama… is really amazing!
She nodded hard, blue eyes shining even more brightly, more adoringly, than any treat in the window.
Tulia, hand in hand with Lisbeth, left the Sweets Shop at a gentle pace.
Behind them were the young girl’s tearful thanks, the gasps and chatter of onlookers who received desserts, and the utterly defeated figure of the male shop assistant.
She still maintained the graceful bearing of a noble lady—steps elegant, back dignified.
But beneath her composed exterior, a soul from The Other World was screaming with delight inside!
“Oh—yeah—!! So good!!”
Tulia’s heart howled in silent ecstasy, every pore seemingly dancing.
“This feeling! This is what living in The Other World is all about! Full marks! I’d give myself full marks for that move!”
She pressed her lips tight to keep from laughing aloud.
To think, she, a dignified transmigrator, bearing such a peerless face, and what happened?
Since arriving in this world, she had lived almost entirely under that madwoman Sophia’s thumb—kept like a canary, treated like property, controlled at every turn, always swallowing her anger. She hadn’t even had the chance to show off, barely daring to even breathe loudly!
But today, right here, just now!
At last, finally, using her “skills” (mainly money gotten for free from someone else), she’d had a truly satisfying moment!
Watching that snobbish shop assistant’s transformation—from arrogant, to stunned, to ashen—was more intoxicating than drinking ten-year-old premium Blood Essence!
The thrill rushed from her toes to the crown of her head!
“Amazing! Just keep exploring, one step at a time! Hahaha!”
She felt that her long-calm heart was now surging with wild waves.
This simple, honest joy from “face-slapping” was so plain, yet so addictive.
She really couldn’t hold it in.
She tilted her head a little, and in a whisper only she and Lisbeth could hear, using the language buried deep in her memories from home, she softly, playfully, and with endless emotion, said,
“Sorry ah… having money really does let you do whatever you want.”
Lisbeth was clutching a pile of beautifully wrapped dessert boxes, their scent filling her with happiness.
She heard her mother say something in a strange tongue she didn’t understand.
She looked up in confusion, only to see her mother—her face still half-hidden by a veil—her exposed, lovely eyes curved into a beautiful crescent.
This was no polite, distant smile, but one of pure, mischievous joy, like a child after a successful prank.
Lisbeth blinked, then smiled along.
Even if she didn’t know what made her mother happy, as long as Mama was happy, she was too.
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