Chapter 10 (200 new words)

After successfully signing the contract with Mr. Paul, Sinderell also purchased dinner and returned to the agreed place.

Sinderel looked into the store, but didn't see Opesha. He was about to leave when Opesha walked out of a nondescript shop across the street and said cheerfully, "Let's go home."

Sinderel subconsciously took a closer look at the shop, but said nothing. He just silently helped Opesha onto the horse, then whipped the horse and galloped towards home.

Back home, Opesa took out a pen and paper and began to think about her future plans.

She listed the information she had obtained today one by one:

1. The original owner has been included in the credit blacklist, and his relationship with Pace Trading Company is extremely bad.

2. Pace Trading House holds a significant position nationwide, its influence comparable to that of the aristocracy.

3. The original owner’s social relationships were a mess, and he had almost no connections to rely on.

4. The house cannot be traded or transferred until the debt to the trading house is paid off, which is a huge limitation.

5. The prince has a strong interest in perfume, which may be a potential opportunity.

6. If your opponent is jealous of you, you should always be on guard against him using various means to persecute you.

After listing this information, Opesha fell into deep thought. She needed to think carefully about how to run this small shop.

She knew nothing about the preparation of perfume powder, and Mr. Paul's shop account was obviously not enough to support her to hire a professional perfumer. Mr. Paul was already in his twilight years, and she really couldn't bear to take advantage of him and asked him to help her prepare perfume.

It wasn't impossible for her to learn how to make perfumes herself, but she knew she couldn't match the skills of a professional perfumer. If she messed up, not only would it damage the store's reputation, but it would also put her in a difficult position and betray the old man's trust.

The old man did not restrict her business methods. Although she was full of blood and wanted to maintain the shop by making perfumes and restore Mr. Paul's reputation, she had no choice but to find another way to open the shop.

Recalling that Mr. Paul's store still had a lot of inventory, Opesha suddenly had a flash of inspiration and came up with a bold and risky idea.

As long as the start-up capital is in place, it will be much easier to continue running the powder shop or switch to other businesses. Opesa thought to herself.

After finishing her thoughts, Opesa stretched lazily.

At this moment, someone knocked gently on the door, and Holly's voice came from outside the house: "Madam, it's time for dinner."

"I understand." Opesa responded, put down the quill in her hand, stood up and slowly walked out of the room.

It’s just right, I can use the meal time to win over some people.

Mr. Paul's shop is currently being run by him alone, so she has to find help, and these four people in the family can be used.

This is a valuable source of free labor—although controlling it can be tricky.

Holly is easy to talk to. As long as she gives an order, Holly will definitely not say a word.

but……

Thinking of her two noisy "fly" daughters and her gloomy stepdaughter, Opesa felt a headache.

The table was set with fresh bread and vegetables that Sindriel had bought today. Holly carefully pulled the main seat aside for Opesha to sit on. After Opesha sat down, she pretended to look around and asked casually, "Where's Sindriel?"

Holly said, "She's in the kitchen. She's too dirty and I'm afraid it might affect your appetite."

Opesha waved her hand: "Tell her to come to the restaurant."

...It's better to keep an eye on it. She doesn't want the Hongmen Banquet from yesterday to happen again.

Holly acted quickly and soon returned to the restaurant with Sinderell.

He still had his long blond hair tied back simply, his slightly longer bangs covering his face in a messy manner. He clasped his hands in front of him and walked silently, stopping ten steps away from the dining table.

Perhaps because he hadn't been given time to tidy up, Sinderel still had an apron tied around his waist, and oil and water stains were clearly visible on the white apron. Dusula and Anastasu both had expressions of disgust on their faces.

"Mother, why did you call her here? The house stinks." Dusula pinched her nose exaggeratedly and fanned the air.

"That's right, I'm about to spit out the bread I just swallowed!" Annata Su fanned the flames.

Xindrel's eyes dimmed slightly, but he soon regained his composure and bowed to them.

Opesha pointed at the bread and said, "Please help me cut it."

The distance was still too far. She only felt safe when he was beside her. If anything really happened, she could grab him in time and die together with him.

Holly glared at Sinderel and said, "Cut some bread for the lady!"

There was silence for a second, and then the sound of approaching footsteps could be heard.

The white hand took the knife on the plate, then fell on the bread and cut it repeatedly.

The silver-gleaming knife moved in the bread, and the cutting sound was fragmented and continuous. Opesa couldn't help but pursed her lips, and the image of the knife cutting herself appeared in her mind.

Opesa suddenly felt a chill come over her.

...It's still disturbing. It seems like there's something wrong with him. I feel creepy no matter what.

Opesa tried not to pay attention, sitting at the table with proper demeanor, and said solemnly, "I have something important to announce. I have taken over the position of manager of a perfume shop. As you all know, people in the upper class love perfume. This is a great opportunity to make friends and expand my own horizons. Four girls, are you interested in participating?"

Holly and Sinderel, who were standing nearby, looked up at the same time, their faces full of confusion.

Hearing this, the impatient Dusula was the first to lose control and shouted, "What? Mother, when did you ever lower yourself to work? Didn't you say that you should work even if you die of poverty, but never lose your dignity?"

Anastasia was also confused: "And mother... with our current reputation, I really can't imagine you having a job, let alone being a store manager..."

Opesa smiled slightly and spoke slowly, "In the past, girls, the king was anxious to help the prince choose a concubine. Now the prince likes perfume, and I have been given this job. This is a great opportunity - who knows, maybe one of you will be favored by the prince? As long as we seize this opportunity, we can escape our current life and live a more comfortable life than before. So, I need your help, and it will also help yourselves. As long as we build up our business, pay off our debts, and restore our reputation, not only can we attend the ball, but maybe we can even meet the prince before the ball."

After these words were spoken, Dusula and Anastasia stopped talking and just looked at each other, as if to confirm the feasibility.

Anastasha scratched her face. "But how should we do it? What do we need to do?"

As long as the prince was involved, these two simple-minded guys were easy to control. The first move had been made, and Opesa couldn't help but curl her lips in amusement. "It's simple. You just need to maintain the status quo and attend the social dance as usual."

The two sisters were even more confused after hearing this. Opesa stopped talking and turned to Holly. "Holly, I'm afraid you might need to trouble us with the door-to-door sales work. After all, it's not convenient for the three of us to come out in person."

Things like street sales can only be assigned to Holly and Sinderell, who seldom go out. Since she is not sure whether Sinderell will give her face, she can only give Holly priority.

"Yes..." Holly was a little confused, "But Madam, I am just a servant. I can't do anything except rough work."

"It's okay. Just follow my instructions." Opesa had already thought of a plan. By the time she'd finished planning, Sinderel had already cut the bread. The plump, fragrant loaves were laid out on the plate, and her appetite had been whetted. "From tomorrow on, neither of you will be allowed to sleep in. Get up and follow me to the city."

"Ma'am, we only have one horse at home," Holly reminded.

"I have my own way of doing this," Opesha said. "Okay, let's eat first, and we can talk about the rest later."

She did have a way, but it was really risky. She wasn't sure about the success rate, and there was a high chance that her secret would be exposed.

Opesa slowly turned her gaze towards Sinderel who was walking away silently.

With limited money, she could only ask Sinderel, who could talk to animals, to help her get four more horses.

How can I speak without exposing myself?

Opesa thought for a long time but couldn't come up with a solution. After dinner, she stood at the bottom of the spiral staircase in the hall and looked up towards the attic.

While she was hesitating, she had already walked to the attic door - the door of Sinderel's room.

The hand knocking on the door stopped again and again, and I still couldn't think of a suitable opening line.

Go in directly and order him around? Perhaps it was possible, after all, he still had something on him, but there was also the possibility of retaliation.

My biggest worry is that broken system. I finally got a day off today, and if some strange quest is triggered again, it will be difficult to recover from it.

Forget it. She withdrew her hand, thinking that it would be easier to find an excuse to let those people walk to the city with her.

Just as she was about to turn around and go downstairs, the tightly closed door suddenly opened a crack, revealing a pair of emerald-colored, inquiring and sharp eyes.

He did not open the door completely, leaving only a small gap, like a vigilant beast, guarding against sudden invasion by outsiders.

The door opened too suddenly. For a moment, the two looked at each other and the atmosphere was a little tense.

Perhaps out of impatience, Xindrell was the first to break the silence, his pale lips slightly parted: "What are you doing here?"

"I...I..." Opesa quickly put on an air of pride and said, "If you're alright, why can't you come and see me? I'm worried about your injury, afraid you're too stupid to handle it. Shouldn't you feel honored to come to your little place?"

Sinderel glanced away, the coldness on his face not melting at all: "Now that you've finished reading, can you leave?"

"No." Opesa refused with a smile, "I need to confirm it again. After all, this house is already full of bad luck. I don't want another person to die in the family, even if it's a useless guy."

Sinderel was about to close the door, but Opesha couldn't possibly miss this rare opportunity. She took a step forward and held the door panel against her, staring at Sinderel closely. "Do you remember what you promised me? You will cooperate with me."

She needed a chance to negotiate with him.

No matter what method she used, she had to get Sinderel involved in the operation of the powder shop. Only in this way could she find a way to connect him with Prince Henry.

Sinderel frowned and exerted a little force on the door panel with his hands.

Opesa was nearly unable to resist. She struggled to negotiate, saying, "I need your strength. You know, Pace Trading House is a tough place to mess with. Continuing as it is will only lead to the mortgage of our house, and we'll end up on the streets. At this point, you have no choice but to make money with me."

The pressure on her shoulders didn't subside. Opesa gritted her teeth and changed her tone to a sarcastic one: "It seems that this house means only so much to you. You don't have much ambition. It seems that you are afraid that you are too stupid to take back what belongs to you? Haha..."

Obviously, provoking is more effective than nagging. The weight on the shoulders is much less, but it still puts pressure on the shoulder bones.

Opesa continued her sarcasm, "Listen, the nobles all love perfume. I want to escape my current life and return home, and you want to take back the house. On this point, I can be magnanimous and agree with you. I'll let you serve me and seize the nobles' wealth. I ask that you manage the store for me, but I'm really afraid you're just a pretty face. To test your abilities and intelligence, please get me a carriage under limited circumstances... Four horses will do, anything that's easy to get around. This is a mother's consideration. Running back and forth four times would be too tiring, and I'd feel bad."

In extreme situations, people's minds can indeed burst out with wisdom. She suddenly thought of using the name of investigation to obtain transportation. Not only did she achieve her goal, but she also added a few extra points of viciousness. She couldn't help but applaud her own wit in her heart.

The burden on his shoulders suddenly disappeared, and Sinderel pulled the door back violently, causing Opesa to fall forward.

She did not fall on Sinderel, nor did she fall on the ground. Instead, she was quickly caught by a hand and then lifted up. Then, she felt her neck being shackled and her whole body was pressed against the door panel that had just been closed.

The Sinderel in front of him seemed like a different person, his eyes were cold, as if he was looking at an ant.

The situation reversed in an instant, and Opesa even found it difficult to breathe.

The stranglehold was so strong that she was completely unable to break free.

Struggling was futile, and Opesa could only utter with difficulty: "Rebellion?"

"--How many more lies are you going to tell?" Sinderel narrowed his eyes slightly and increased the strength of his finger bones.

The throat squeezed and made a sound. Opesha's whole body froze, her drooping hands trembling unconsciously, and her wide eyes stared at Sinderel: "What are you talking about?"

"You planned this, didn't you? That strange incense was something you'd prepared to use against me long ago—to seize ownership of this house." Sinderel continued, words Opesa couldn't understand. "You knew it wasn't possible for this house to change everyone. You wanted the trading house to take it away, and then use this vulgar incense and your unconsidered tactics to win the favor of the head of the family, completely abandoning this mess and living a carefree life."

"I don't understand..." Opesha's vision was blurry due to the lack of oxygen. She scratched her palms and tried to stay conscious. "What's the fragrance? What are you talking about..."

"Impossible." The young man's voice was deep, his hollow eyes filled with disgust. "Don't even think about getting away like this."

She couldn't get away that easily.

He remembered every humiliation he had suffered in the past, which was engraved in his heart. How could he let this woman go so easily and let her live a free life?

Right here, just the two of them, he would finish her off in his damp, musty, smelly house, and then rot away with the rotten wood.

After that? He would find a way. There was always a chance to kill the guy from the trading house and defend the house.

The bloodlust that had been simmering in his heart for a long time was aroused by the woman's moaning. A chill rose from Sinderel's body, and his right hand slowly tightened -

It appeared again.

The bewitching fragrance appeared again, like an invisible silk thread wrapped around his arm, making him want to let go involuntarily.

No, it's not about letting go, but holding on to the fragrance tightly, and also embracing the person who carries the fragrance into his arms, and then greedily and violently grabbing all the fragrance, even wanting to devour the flesh and blood that is stained with the fragrance.

The bloodlust and some complex desires intertwined together made him extremely uncomfortable, and even his body began to heat up.

It's really scary. What kind of weird perfume powder did that perfume shop make that could make him unable to kill?

Suddenly, he became interested.

He wanted to see what tricks this woman could come up with.

Also, he would definitely figure out what that inexplicable fragrance was.

He chose to let go.

Instead of releasing the prey, he continued to watch it struggle.

He stepped back a few steps expressionlessly, picked up the book on the table, sat down and began to read, without even looking at Opessa the whole time.

Opesa suddenly collapsed, breathing in deep gulps of fresh air. Although her legs were weak, she still had the wit to keep her footing.

Her face flushed as she glared at the oblivious Sinderel. The burgeoning anger clouded her mind, and she suddenly had the strength to support her feet. She walked quickly towards Sinderel, snatched the book from his hand - and then swung it hard in Sinderel's face.

After a muffled sound, Sinderel turned his head away in a daze, his eyes still fixed on the small window.

He felt a burning pain on his face and came back to his senses. His face was still tilted, but his eyes turned back.

Gloomy, dark, and filled with murderous intent.

Opesa completely ignored his gaze, closed the book, glanced at it, and said in feigned surprise, "Oh, the Bible, it's really a good tool for teaching children." She tossed the book back into Sinderel's arms, tilted her head slightly, and smiled innocently, "Does your God know that you tried to hurt your mother? You don't think that reading it a few more times will make it look like it never happened, do you? Oh... I forgot, you are an idiot with an empty mind. Maybe you really think that this can atone for your sins. Dear God, how could there be such a lovely girl? Forgive her misery."

She made the sign of the cross on her heart, bowed her head, and reached out to pull out the dagger from the other person's waist.

The other party suddenly grabbed her wrist and said, "Don't touch it."

Opesa glanced at him and sighed in annoyance, but her other hand moved quickly to pull out the dagger and put it against his throat.

"Don't move." Opesa smiled gently, "I know you value your life."

A trace of surprise flashed in the other person's eyes, as if he didn't expect her to act so quickly and decisively, but soon he calmed down: "What do you want to do."

Click.

Unexpectedly, the woman threw the dagger behind her.

She didn't intend to threaten him with his life, but she didn't say what to do. She just stretched out her finger and gently touched Sinderel's swollen cheek.

Her skin was burning hot, and just the touch of her fingers made her feel like she was being roasted by fire.

She moved her fingers slowly, as if touching, and moved purposefully along the trajectory in her eyes.

She deliberately stood very close, face to face, and looked at Sinderel seriously: "Do you know what I'm drawing?"

He could hardly make out what she was saying, and could only vaguely sense that she seemed to be correcting her behavior.

How is that possible? She doesn't care about herself at all.

She just remembered her mother's responsibilities? He didn't believe it.

The aroma was so strong that it nearly engulfed Sinderel, constantly ripping at his sanity. He knew his face was burning, because the small, cold fingertips on his face were infinitely magnified by his senses. He almost couldn't control himself and wanted to squeeze her hand and hold it against his own incredibly warm face.

He suddenly recalled the past, the few memories he had about his "mother" during his childhood.

When his fever persisted, his "mother" would comfort him in this way.

He was so confused that he confused the woman in front of him with his "mother".

This thought made him want to kill himself immediately, even if he could not go to heaven.

He tried to resist, but was ultimately defeated.

Opesa's eyes curled. "I'm drawing a hexagram." She applied force, retracing it with her fingernails. The crimson hexagram, like a line of blood, burned deeply into Sinderel's beautiful face. She seemed to admire her own masterpiece, giggling with particular satisfaction. "But this hexagram is drawn upside down."

Everyone knows that the inverted hexagram represents Satan.

For devout believers, having this mark engraved on them is the most cruel humiliation.

She wanted Sinderel to know that she was not someone to be trifled with, and she also wanted to teach this brat a lesson, make him respect her as an elder, and correct his damn values.

"I was worried you might starve to death, so I brought you dinner. It seems you, little bastard, don't need my worry at all. You're so full of life. But how can someone who tries to hurt their mother go to heaven? Satan would love a child like you." Opesa grabbed Sinderel by the collar, pulled him up, and pushed him onto the wooden bed. She held his shoulder with one hand and took the ointment from the cabinet with the other. "Don't move, I don't want to get it in your pretty eyes."

Sinderel tried to stand, but Opesa pinned him down again, his body too weak to move. He could only lie huddled between the fabrics, breathing heavily. Opesa peeled off his clothes and applied the cool ointment to his back.

The coolness was no longer enough to counterbalance the heat in his body. He bit the bed sheet unconsciously, and his eyes turned bloodshot.

The small fingers moved up his spine, to the back of his neck, and slid to his cheek.

She was applying medicine for him.

No, why would she apply medicine on herself? She must hate this face the most.

He was still confused and his consciousness was still floating, but the itchy sensation suddenly stopped and his brain suddenly became clear.

At the same time, a strange feeling of attachment was fueled.

"I'm very disappointed with your performance today." Opesa smiled and stepped back, walking to the wooden door. "But I will always tolerate you. You are my favorite girl... Oh, and don't forget about the inspection. I look forward to your good news tomorrow."

She covered her lips with a smile, opened the door and walked out.

Inside the house, the boy's posture was a little awkward.

As if possessed by a magic spell, his hand touched the pattern carved by his fingertips.

Deep and shallow, rugged and uneven, sticky and still faintly hot, and even the places that are repeatedly carved are even hotter.

The brain seemed to lose its mind, replaying the scene depicted by the fingertips frame by frame. Every detail, including the force and turning angle of the fingertips, seemed to be reproduced on the face.

It was just like the pattern that Schindler drew on the wall for his "mother" with charcoal when he was seven years old.

He knew it was punishment for his disrespect.

But he didn't find it difficult to accept.

No one had ever taught him values, morals, or medicine. No one had ever applied medicine to him, or looked after his injuries, or taught him what was right and wrong.

Even with his "family" or "friends", he was always alone.

Is this called "family affection"?

Maybe.

For some reason, he felt a long-lost strange feeling of being cared for.