Morning sunlight spilled over the bustling streets of Liyue Harbor, scattering across the crowds like fragments of gold.
Vendors shouted, ships groaned softly against the docks, and people moved through the streets in a lively stream.
Suddenly, a lively girl in brown-black traditional clothing darted forward, dragging a calm, composed man along with her, stirring small waves of chaos behind them.
"Consultant Zhongli, can't you walk any faster?"
Her crisp voice rang out—pleasant, but laced with urgency.
Zhongli maintained his unhurried elegance.
"Director Hu Tao, there is no need for such haste. Mr. Grant already entrusted his final affairs to you."
But rather than slowing, Hu Tao quickened her pace.
"Entrusted or not, it doesn't matter! That bastard Adrian couldn't care less about any of that!" she snapped.
"If he arrives first, he'll definitely use that nauseating silver tongue of his to steal the whole job!"
Hearing this, Zhongli quietly lengthened his stride.
After all… his unpaid debts were already pushing the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor toward the brink of collapse.
He certainly didn't want the funeral parlor to go bankrupt.
After nearly fifteen minutes of frantic hurrying, they reached a vast, luxurious estate.
Parked before the grand gate was a donkey cart packed with all manner of funeral supplies—complete, organized, and ready for use.
Beside the cart stood a cold, elegant woman with a striking figure.
She wore a black, form-fitting bodysuit that traced every line of her figure.
A short white jacket rested over her upper body, lifted by her full chest and outlining an alluring silhouette. A crimson cord swayed gently in the breeze.
Her waist curved like a willow branch—slim and soft—and her long, sculpted legs were flawless, like marble statues brought to life.
It was Shenhe of Liyue.
The moment Hu Tao saw her, fury ignited inside her like dry tinder meeting flame.
She rushed toward Shenhe, trying her best to keep her tone calm.
"Sister Shenhe, has that bastard Adrian already gone inside?"
Shenhe's brows tightened subtly; her tone remained icy.
"My junior's name is Adrian, not 'that bastard Adrian.' He entered quite some time ago."
Her voice was cold—clear, emotionless, cutting straight to the bone.
Hu Tao's face stiffened.
This was bad.
She turned and darted toward the estate doors—
—but a burly gate guard stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
"Without Madam Grant's permission, no one may enter."
Hu Tao lifted her chin proudly.
"I am Hu Tao, seventy-seventh Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor! I already made an agreement with Mr. Grant—his funeral arrangements are to be handled by us."
But the guard only shook his head.
"Madam Grant has already decided. Master Adrian of Immortal Rites Service will conduct the funeral. Please leave and do not cause trouble."
"But—!"
Before she could continue, irritation flared in the guard's voice.
"We are conducting funeral rites. This is a solemn matter. Do you wish to disturb the deceased's peace?"
Hu Tao instantly deflated like a punctured balloon.
Funeral affairs always placed the deceased first.
Even if she was in the right, she couldn't disrupt someone's final rest.
She bit her lip, frustration and helplessness filling her chest.
At that moment, a young man stepped out from the estate.
He wore a deep-teal Daoist robe, handsome and refined, moving with the ethereal grace of an adeptus-trained disciple.
But to Hu Tao—
He was nothing more than a shameless thief stealing her business.
Her face flushed red with anger as she pointed accusingly at him.
"Adrian, you shameless crook! I clearly made a deal with Mr. Grant first! Wangsheng Funeral Parlor should be handling everything—how dare you cut in?!"
Adrian's expression remained perfectly composed. A faint smile played on his lips as he replied, slow and steady:
"If you truly had an agreement, then why did you arrive only on the second day after his passing?"
Hu Tao blinked.
"That can't be right… Based on my observation, he should've passed today. Don't tell me… I miscalculated?"
She clutched her head, groaning in frustration.
She didn't notice the slight shift in Adrian's expression—a flicker of something sharp—before he returned to his usual calm.
He stepped past her and approached Shenhe.
"Senior Sister, I'll have to trouble you again this time."
Shenhe simply nodded, expression unreadable.
Adrian wasn't bothered—he was long accustomed to her icy personality.
Together, they stepped deeper into the estate.
Inside the bright, spacious main hall rested a body covered by a pristine white burial cloth.
Before it knelt a young widow in white mourning attire, shoulders trembling as she cried softly.
The white fabric made her slender figure appear even more delicate—fragile and heartbreakingly beautiful.