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The three pushed the door open and entered.
Bored out of his mind from waiting, Sylvester stood up and cupped his hands with a smile. "Oh? It's General Jing Yuan in the flesh—my failure to welcome you properly, please forgive me."
Jing Yuan smiled in return. "Shopkeeper Sylvester, you're far too polite. You already bear the title of Honorary General. You and I stand as equals—if anything, I should be calling you General Sylvester."
He walked up to the counter, extending his right hand. "Shopkeeper Sylvester, thank you for all you've done for Luofu. Though we've long corresponded, this is truly our first formal meeting. In the future, I hope to learn much from you."
Jing Yuan did not speak with superiority in response to Sylvester's courtesy. On the contrary, he chose to appear even more humble.
"In that case, General, I must ask you to settle the floor repair costs." Sylvester half-joked as he pointed toward a jade-like floor tile.
"…Ah?"
Jing Yuan froze, clearly not expecting such a reply. But remembering what Fu Xuan had said about Sylvester's whimsical and unpredictable manner of speech, he quickly understood.
He glanced at the floor. A faint white line ran across it—at first glance, nothing more than a surface scratch. But Jing Yuan could see clearly: it was the trace of a finely precise cut.
And if Sylvester was holding him accountable for this…
Turning his head, he spotted Yanqing scratching his head awkwardly, eyes cast downward.
The truth was obvious. The floor had been sliced open during his test swing. And equally obvious—this boy had blown through his stipend again.
Jing Yuan gave him a dark look. He should have included financial discipline in that lecture earlier.
Others, at worst, lived from paycheck to paycheck. But this boy managed to burn through it all mid-month.
Go anywhere else, and disciples bring income to their masters. But this one? Truly an expense. Instead of earning, Jing Yuan had to pour money into him!
Not that Jing Yuan lacked a few measly credits—but the shame of it!
Imagine the Arbiter-General of Luofu lowering himself, covering every expense, lodging, and meal for a boy, just so he'd inherit his mantle? What a joke!
For the sake of his disciple's healthy future, Jing Yuan put back on his stern master's face: "It will be deducted from next month's stipend."
"Yes, Master." Yanqing's cheeks flushed red. This felt exactly like being dragged in front of one's parents after making a mistake. Embarrassing beyond measure.
As for the money… well, in the end, he lived and dined at the General's anyway. Deducted or not, it made little difference.
Jing Yuan didn't pull out credits. Instead, he drew up a document and a form: 'Decision Regarding Repairs to General Sylvester's Residence'. He wrote the details, ending with the line: 'Funds to be deducted from the stipend of Cloud Knight Swordsman Yanqing, under the Divine Foresight General's Office'. Then, stamping it with his official seal, he made two copies.
Handing one to Sylvester, he said, "Shopkeeper Sylvester, rest assured. This afternoon, colleagues from the Artisan Commission will arrive to make careful repairs. Not just the floor—if you have any requests, state them. All expenses will be covered by Yanqing."
He shot his disciple a glance before continuing, "Do not worry about him being unable to pay. For damages caused under official duty, the responsible party must shoulder them—down to the last coin, even if it bankrupts him. Yanqing has quite the collection of flying swords. Sell them all, and even rebuilding this house from scratch would be no issue."
He shot Yanqing another look, carefully hiding the amusement in his eyes. Little brat, did you think I couldn't rein you in?
"Master, you can't!" Yanqing, who had only been slightly guilty a moment ago, nearly broke into tears.
H-how had it turned into this?
To pay with his swords? That was worse than death! Each one was his precious treasure—losing even a single blade left him sleepless at night. Desperate, he blurted: "As long as you don't touch my swords, Master, I'll agree to anything you say!"
"That's better. I'll front the money for now, but from this day onward, every single monthly expense of yours must pass my approval—until the debt is paid." Jing Yuan had been waiting for just this. He laid out his conditions immediately.
At last, Yanqing learned the meaning of the saying: ginger grows spicier with age. His dream of two new swords a month was utterly crushed. But to protect the collection he already had, he gritted his teeth and nodded. "Fine… I agree, Master."
"Good. That's the spirit of a man."
Jing Yuan handed the duplicate file to Sylvester. "When the Artisanship Commission finishes repairs tomorrow, they'll list the completed work and costs here. Review and sign it, and the funds will be drawn directly from my office's account."
Taking the file, Sylvester read it carefully from top to bottom. "Repairs to General Sylvester's residence…"
He looked around the modest two-story building. Calling it a "residence" was generous—it was far too plain. Rebuilding it into a proper mansion befitting his status, something like the Divine Foresight General's estate, was indeed tempting. After all, he was a general now.
But then he looked at Yanqing's pitiful face and shook his head. Best to just fix the floor.
If he really rebuilt a mansion, Yanqing might end up paying tribute every month until he became Luofu's Sword Champion—long after Jing Yuan had succumbed to his Mara and fallen into slumber within the Ten Lords' Commission. That would be far too cruel.
So, he smiled at Yanqing. "Don't worry, Brother Yanqing. I'm more than satisfied with this home. Since only the floor is damaged, we'll only repair the floor."
"Thank you, Shopkeeper Sylvester!" Yanqing's joy was brighter than when he first drew the Massacre Ruler.
Whoever said Shopkeeper Sylvester wasn't serious? He was a paragon of virtue!
"Now, now. Enough chatter. Isn't opening the trash cans the main business here?"
Feixiao, watching Jing Yuan tease Yanqing, found it all rather amusing. She joined in with a playful jab.
Jing Yuan chuckled. "Shopkeeper Sylvester, once General Feixiao finishes, the remaining trash cans are on me."
Sylvester nodded. He never refused such requests.
Compared to the customers who bought one or two trash cans and left dejected if luck failed them, these lavish, repeat patrons were his favorites. "Please, please."
Jing Yuan and Yanqing returned to the lounge to watch Feixiao's results.
She tossed out her Jade Abacus—ten million credits transferred to Sylvester's account in an instant.
Walking to the shelves, she casually picked several trash cans without a second thought.
Unlike others, she brimmed with confidence. After all, she had once drawn not only purple, but even golden curios here. Last time, she had gained… what was his name again? That annoying corporate lone wolf. Koster? Something like that. Though the man was unbearable, the haul had been extraordinary.
Not only had she drawn the largest dreadnought in the cosmos, but also four divine swords, each rivaling the strength of an Emanator.
And those very swords had drawn Jingliu here. With the [Samsara Elixir] that followed, she gained her chance at rebirth.
All of it seemed as though an unseen thread connected events, weaving endless possibilities and opportunities for Luofu.
Especially for Jingliu. Without the [Samsara Elixir]—what would her fate have been?
Feixiao dared not imagine. She didn't need to—she had already seen that tragic end countless times.
And now, today—could she too obtain such fortune again?
The Moon Rage… the curse etched into her very marrow, gifted by the Plagues Author THEMSELVES.