Chapter 1838: All Kinds of People

The court has always been a place of right and wrong, where blades flash and schemes never cease. In this arena of power, Emperor Liu is forever the core, yet the political center of gravity shifts constantly, changing with the rise and fall of high officials and the alteration of major policies.

Rumors and gossip often accompany political changes most

"I am a failure, and I barely notice whether the sun is shining or not, because I have no time.

"My parents couldn't support me, and my education isn't high either. I came to the city alone, searching for a future.

"I found many jobs, but none would hire me. Perhaps no one likes a person who isn't good at talking, doesn't enjoy socializing, and hasn't shown enough ability.

"I went three whole days eating only two loaves of bread. Hunger kept me from sleeping at night. Fortunately, I had paid a month's rent in advance, so I could keep living in that dark basement without having to go outside and endure the abnormally cold winter wind.

"Finally, I found a job—keeping watch at night in a hospital, guarding the morgue.

"The hospital at night was colder than I imagined. The wall lamps in the corridor weren't lit, and everywhere was dim. I could only rely on the faint light seeping out from the rooms to see where I was stepping.

"The smell there was awful. From time to time, the dead were brought in stuffed inside body bags, and we worked together to carry them into the morgue.

"It wasn't a very good job, but at least it let me afford bread, and I could use the free time at night to study. After all, not many people were willing to come to the morgue unless there was a corpse to deliver or take away for cremation. Of course, I still didn't have enough money to buy books, and I couldn't see any hope of saving up.

"I had to thank my predecessor. If he hadn't suddenly quit, I might not have gotten even this job.

"I dreamed of being able to rotate onto the day shift. Right now I always sleep when the sun comes up and wake when night falls, which has made my body a bit weak, and my head occasionally throbs with pain.

"One day, the porters brought in a new corpse.

"I heard from others that it was my predecessor who had suddenly quit.

"I was a bit curious about him. After everyone left, I pulled out the drawer and quietly opened the body bag.

"He was an old man, his face blue-white and covered in wrinkles, looking quite frightening under the very dim light.

"He didn't have much hair, and most of it was white. His clothes had all been removed—not even a scrap of fabric was left on him.

"I saw a strange mark on his chest, blue-black in color. I couldn't describe its exact shape—the light at the time was simply too dim.

"I reached out and touched the mark. Nothing special.

"Looking at this former colleague, I thought to myself: if I kept on like this, when I grew old, would I end up like him...

"I told him that tomorrow I would accompany him to the crematorium and personally take his ashes to the nearest free cemetery, so that the people in charge of such matters wouldn't find it troublesome and just toss him into some river or wasteland.

"This would cost me a morning of sleep, but fortunately, Sunday was coming up, and I could make up for it.

"After saying that, I fixed up the body bag and stuffed it back into the drawer.

"The light in the room seemed even dimmer...

"After that day, every time I slept, I would dream of a thick fog.

"I had a premonition that something was about to happen, that sooner or later something—whether it could be called human or not—would come looking for me. But no one was willing to believe me. They thought that in that kind of environment, in that kind of job, my mind had gone a bit abnormal and I needed to see a doctor..."

A male customer sitting at the bar looked at the storyteller who had suddenly stopped:

"And then?"

This male customer was in his mid-thirties, wearing a brown tweed jacket and pale yellow trousers. His hair was pressed flat, and beside his hand lay a simple dark round bowler hat.

He looked ordinary, like most people in the tavern—black hair, pale blue eyes, neither handsome nor ugly, lacking any distinctive features.

In his eyes, the storyteller was a young man of eighteen or nineteen, with a straight, tall figure and long, slender limbs. He too had short black hair and pale blue eyes, but his features were sharply defined, enough to catch one's eye.

The young man looked at the empty glass before him, sighed, and said:

"And then?

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"And then I quit my job, went back to the countryside, and came here to spin tales with you."

As he spoke, a smile spread across his face—a smile with a hint of mischief.

The male customer was taken aback:

"Everything you just said was made up?"

"Haha." A burst of laughter erupted around the bar.

As the laughter died down slightly, a thin middle-aged man looked at the somewhat embarrassed customer and said:

"Outsider, you actually believed Lumian's stories! He tells something different every day. Yesterday he was a poor wretch whose fiancée broke off their engagement because of his poverty, and today he's a corpse keeper!"

"Right! He says things like 'thirty years on the east side of the Serenzo River, thirty years on the right side of the Serenzo River'—he only knows how to talk nonsense!" Another tavern regular chimed in.

They were all farmers from the large village of Cordu, wearing short jackets in black, gray, or brown.

The black-haired young man called Lumian propped himself up on the bar with both hands, slowly stood, and said with a grin:

"You all know this isn't a story I made up. My sister wrote it—she loves writing stories, and she's even a columnist for some *Fiction Weekly*."

After saying this, he turned sideways, spread his hands toward the outsider, and smiled brightly:

"Looks like she really can write.

"Sorry to have misled you."

The man in the brown tweed jacket, with his ordinary appearance, wasn't angry. He stood up as well and replied with a smile:

"A very interesting story.

"What should I call you?"

"Isn't it common courtesy to introduce yourself before asking someone else's name?" Lumian laughed.

The outsider nodded:

"My name is Lienkos.

"These two are my companions, Valentine and Lia."

The latter sentence referred to a man and a woman sitting right beside him.

The man was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with a bit of powder dusted over his yellow hair. His not-very-large eyes were a shade deeper than lake blue. He wore a white vest, a blue tweed jacket, and black trousers, and had clearly dressed himself up carefully before leaving the house.

His expression was rather cold, and he didn't pay much attention to the farmers and herdsmen around him.

The woman appeared younger than the two men. Her long, light-gray hair was tied into an elaborate bun, and she had wrapped a white veil over it to serve as a hat.

Her eyes were the same color as her hair, and her gaze at Lumian carried unconcealed amusement, as if she found everything that had just happened merely entertaining.

Under the gaslight of the tavern, this woman named Leah revealed a pert nose and gracefully curved lips—by the standards of a countryside village like Kordun, she was certainly a beauty.

She wore a white, pleatless cashmere fitted dress, paired with an off-white short jacket and a pair of Masir tall boots. Small silver bells were tied to both her veil and her boots, and when she had walked into the tavern just now, they had jingled all the way, drawing plenty of attention and making quite a few men stare straight at her.

In their eyes, this was the kind of fashionable attire you'd only see in big cities like the provincial capital Vigor or the capital Trier.

Lumian nodded to the three outsiders:

"My name is Lumian Lee. You can just call me Lumian."

"Lee?" Leah blurted out.

"What's the matter? Is there something wrong with my surname?" Lumian asked curiously.

Lienkos helped explain for Leah:

"That surname of yours is frightening. I almost couldn't control my own voice just now."

Seeing the surrounding farmers and herders looking bewildered, he further explained:

"Anyone who's had contact with sailors or sea merchants knows that a saying circulates across the Five Seas:

"Rather than run into those pirate generals or even kings, you'd be better off not meeting a man named Frank Lee.

"That man's surname is also Lee."

"Is he very terrifying?" Lumian asked.

Lien shook his head:

"I'm not sure, but since such a legend exists, he certainly can't be ordinary."

He ended that topic and said to Lumian:

"Thank you for your story—it's worth a drink. What would you like?"

"A glass of 'Green Fairy.'" Lumian was not the least bit polite, sitting back down.

Lienkos frowned slightly and said:

"'Green Fairy'... absinthe?

"I think I need to warn you that absinthe is harmful to the human body. This kind of liquor can cause mental derangement and give you hallucinations."

"I didn't expect Trier's fashion trends to have spread all the way here." Leah beside him added with a smile.

Lumian let out an "Oh":

"So people in Trier like drinking 'Green Fairy' too...

"For us, life is already hard enough—no need to care about a little extra harm. This liquor lets our minds relax even more."

"Alright." Lien sat back in his seat and looked at the bartender. "One 'Green Fairy,' and add a 'Burning Heart' for me."

"Burning Heart" was a famous fruit brandy.

"Why not get me a 'Green Fairy' too? I'm the one who told you the truth just now, and I can tell you everything about this kid from start to finish!" The thin, middle-aged man who had first exposed that Lumian told stories every day shouted in dissatisfaction. "Outsiders, I can tell you still have doubts about whether that story is true or false!"

"Pierre, you'd do anything for a free drink!" Lumian responded loudly.

Before Lien could make a decision, Lumian added:

"Why can't I tell it myself? That way I can drink one more 'Green Fairy.'"

"Because they wouldn't know whether to believe what you say." The middle-aged man named Pierre said with a smug smile. "The story your sister loves most to tell the children is 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf'—those who always lie are bound to lose their credibility."

"Fine." Lumian shrugged his shoulders, watching the bartender push a glass of pale green liquor in front of him.

Lien looked at him and asked for his opinion:

"Is that alright?"

"No problem, as long as your wallet can cover the cost of these drinks." Lumian was completely unconcerned.

"Then one more 'Green Fairy.'" Lien nodded.

Pierre's face immediately broke into a wide smile:

"Generous outsiders, this kid is the biggest prankster in the village. You should definitely stay far away from him.

"Five years ago, he was brought back to the village by his sister Aurore and has never left since. Think about it—before that, he was only thirteen. How could he have gone to a hospital to work as a corpse keeper? And the nearest hospital to us is in Dallez at the foot of the mountain—it takes a whole afternoon to walk there."

"Brought back to the village?" Leah asked sharply.

She tilted her head slightly, producing a jingling sound.

Pierre nodded:

"Then he took the surname 'Lee' from Aurore. Even the name 'Lumian' was chosen by Aurore."

"I've forgotten what I was originally called." Lumian took a sip of absinthe and said with a grin.

It seemed he felt neither inferior nor ashamed at all about his past being exposed like this.