Chapter 18

After breakfast, Opesa and Sindriel left the shelter.

After the rain, the sky in Furlan didn't feel refreshing, but rather damp and sticky. Gray clouds covered half of the sun, making the sunlight seem much dimmer.

As soon as she stepped out of the door, someone gently tugged at the corner of Opesha's clothes. She turned around and saw it was Sinderel.

"What's wrong?" Opesa asked.

"..." He glanced at Opesa's high-heeled leather shoes, then glanced outside with a complicated expression, "I'll carry you back."

Opesha looked puzzled: "It's not far, why are you carrying me?"

"I'll carry you." Sinderel repeated it again, but still didn't give a reason.

Opesa didn't understand what he meant at all. She watched him take two steps forward, but his feet went soft - his heels sank into the mud.

She looked down and saw that this was no longer a road, but a completely muddy puddle. She stuck her heel in and couldn't pull it out. She struggled, using both hands to finally pull it out.

At this time, she understood what Sinderel meant: the road was difficult, so he had to carry her back.

But she didn't dare to ask him to carry her on his back. Sinderel was a weak child who had suffered a lot of abuse. Although she had witnessed his strength with her own eyes, she still felt bad.

It was already too much for Opesha to take advantage of her mother's relationship and not do what a mother should do. Now she was asked to carry back a child who had just recovered from an illness. Opesha really couldn't do it.

She was stuck in the mud, and Sinderel was standing on the stone steps with his arms folded, watching her embarrassment.

The two of them stared at each other for a long time, so long that even the boss came out to take a look: "Hey, why haven't you left yet?"

Sinderel glanced at his boss, sighed again, and without further ado, he reached out and pulled Opesha out of the mud. Then he turned his back, squatted down, and said, "Come up."

There was no other way, so Opesa could only lie on his back obediently.

His back was unexpectedly broad and thin, and his two thin shoulder blades pressed against his chest. It wasn't very painful, but it was a bit too sharp.

She didn't know where to put her hands, so she could only curl her joints helplessly and put them on the back of her neck.

"Hold me." A soft voice sounded.

She took a fancy to the fair neck hidden among the golden hair, stretched out her hands hesitantly, and finally crossed them and hugged them.

Xindrel stood up steadily and carried her on his back towards home.

Perhaps because his clothes were not completely dry yet, he had a damp smell of rain on his body, but it was not offensive, but rather a refreshing smell of early morning rain.

Feeling the pulse bouncing on her arm and the warmth coming from her skin, Opesa bit her lip quietly, and with her eyes wide open, she glanced at Sinderel's half-covered profile.

His blond hair was a little dry and prickly, but she didn't care and just stared at him in a trance.

When she got closer, she noticed that there were two piercings in Xindrel's earlobes and a mole behind his ear.

She stared at the mole behind her ear in a trance, her heart pounding uncontrollably.

How about giving him some earrings or something next time? Opesa thought.

But before she could think about it, she felt something was wrong.

My hand felt an unusual, hard bump in the middle of my neck.

The only thing she could think of in this place was her Adam's apple.

But how can girls have Adam’s apples?

She didn't think too much about it, just thinking that Xindrell was too thin, and was thinking about finding some excuses to get Xindrell to eat more.

When they reached the main path, Opesa couldn't stand the strange looks from the people around her anymore, so she poked Sinderel and said, "You can put me down now. People outside are watching us all the time."

Sinderel ignored her and continued to carry her forward as usual. He didn't put Opesha down until they reached the door of the shop.

Opesa was about to open the shop door when her arm was grabbed again. Turning her head, she saw the blond boy bending down slightly to smooth out a small wrinkle on her skirt.

Opesa looked at him in surprise as he stood up and met his pure eyes.

For some reason, she always felt that there was some unclear emotion in his eyes, which was completely different from the look he had when they first met.

She remembered the pure hatred that went deep into his bones, which could not be concealed no matter what. Even if he didn't say anything or smile, but just stood there, she could feel his silent disgust howling.

Even if the ears cannot hear, the heart can feel it.

How could such emotions suddenly disappear?

Entering the shop, Opesha saw Anastasia and Dusula.

As soon as they saw Opesha, they rushed over in a hurry, each holding Opesha's hand and crying with tears in their eyes as they expressed their worries.

The two adopted daughters did not wait for Opesha to come home yesterday, so they kept waiting in the store. The daughters expressed their care and concern one after another, which made Opesha feel very relieved.

Dusula saw Xindrell coming in behind him, and her eyes widened and she shouted angrily, "How dare you run around like that? You've made your mother have to go look for you!"

Sinderel paid no attention to her angry cry, walked past her as if he saw nothing, picked up his book from the counter and walked into the workshop.

The door was closed. Dusula took two steps forward angrily. Opesha quickly held her back and said, "Okay, this matter has nothing to do with her. I asked her to buy bread."

"...Is that really the case?" Dusula was a little confused. "Then what's the point of Holly lying to us? She's your maid, who's been with you since you were little. Even if that happened before..."

"Dusula!" Anastasia immediately covered Dusula's mouth and looked at Opessa in panic, her words stumbling. "Mother, you don't need to worry about her disrespect. You know, she has always been a fool."

That thing? Opesa's eyes flashed, and she put her hand under her nose and said carefully and in a roundabout way, "To be honest, Holly was sent by my family to kill me. My family couldn't afford my debt, so they said they would kill me to pay it off... So I sent her to the sheriff. But I never thought she would do it."

As soon as these words were spoken, Opesa saw the two men's faces change drastically.

Anastasia covered her lips in disbelief: "How could this be...did my family really give up on my mother?!"

"How is that possible! It was my grandfather who proposed the marriage, and when my stepfather got into trouble, he just said he would stop contacting me. He didn't kill me to pay off his debt!" Dusula said with trembling lips, "Maybe it was because of the death of Holly's daughter that she wanted to kill me, so she said that?"

Holly's daughter died?

Did the original owner kill Holly's daughter?

Opesa thought for a moment and said deliberately, "He's just the child of a lowly servant, and you're asking me to pay with my life?"

"That's right, it's obvious that she doesn't have the money to send her seriously ill daughter for treatment, and she actually blames her mother for being heartless and not allowing her to take a carriage to see a doctor. Is she allowed to ride in a carriage?" Dusula was indeed simple-minded, and her words were immediately tricked.

But knowing the truth, Opesa felt even more psychological pressure.

The original owner was so vicious that even being tortured to death in public would not be excessive. No wonder he was assassinated, he really deserved it.

This reason does make sense, but there are still many strange things, such as the "Lord God" mentioned by Holly, and why Sinderel knew that Holly was here to kill her.

Logically speaking, Holly was so old, and when she had a daughter, the original owner should not have married Sinderel's father, so Sinderel could not have known about this.

Unless, they know each other's background, or have met each other once.

After all the talk, it was back to the starting point. All the explanations had to be dug out from Xindrell, but she didn't know Xindrell at all, and she couldn't learn anything from Holly and Xindrell.

She thought of the dagger and the killer's identity that had inexplicably become real.

She wasn't completely clueless, she had a place to investigate - the black market.

Voices asking for assassination missions can be heard everywhere in the black market. They will know some information about the Killer Association, and as long as you have the time to find out, you will definitely gain something.

Sindriel might be the killer.

This idea was magnified infinitely in her mind, but she would rather Sinderel was nothing.

She didn't want to increase the difficulty of passing the level at all.

The two daughters were still worried and nervous. Seeing that they looked a little tired, Opesa dismissed them and let them go home to rest.

Before leaving, Opesha deliberately called out Anastasia.

Anastasia turned around in surprise, and Oppasa straightened her clothes and said, "It's wrinkled here." Then she deliberately stuffed a note into her palm.

Anastasia looked puzzled, but she didn't show it. Instead, she continued, "Oh yes, thank you, mother."

She doesn't have a high level of trust with Sinderel, so she needs someone to act on her behalf.

After sending her two daughters away, Opesha was brought back to reality by the empty shop.

She had been counting on the capable Huo Li to help her prepare for the matters before opening the store, but now Huo Li has been labeled a "traitor", and a bunch of troubles have fallen on her head.

The essential items for opening a shop are the sex products and clothes she designed. Now that Huo Liren is gone, unless she spends money to hire a tailor, with her clumsy hands that can't even thread a needle, it will probably take her a hundred or eighty years to learn how to make clothes.

Why not wait until she finished the things in her blueprints before self-destructing? Opesa thought sadly and pushed the door open and walked into the workshop.

See how much money is left after buying those materials. If there is enough balance, hire a female worker to make clothes. You can't waste those materials.

She thought so, but after entering the room, she saw Sinderel holding her stack of design drafts and looking at them.

Sinderel leaned on the table, stroking his chin with his fingers, his expression was very subtle, with a twisted and confused look.

When he heard Opesa push the door open, his attention was not distracted, but he continued to ponder the image on the paper.

Opesha ignored him and walked straight past him to see how much money was left in the safe.

A piece of paper suddenly appeared in front of me: "What is this?"

In her bony hands, she was holding a thin piece of parchment, on which was a newly drawn design sketch by Opesa, a design that could be called "the soul painter's" level - a few sloppy lines barely outlined the shape, and next to it were crookedly written "It must be thin! It must be transparent! It must be both welcoming and repulsive!" A smiley face of unknown meaning was also drawn next to it.

Opesa blinked. "Blueprints."

"Blueprint?" The other party's tone was full of confusion. It was obvious that he had not expected that the stick figure with a few lines was a blueprint. "What blueprint is it?"

Opesa was immediately annoyed when she heard his tone. She turned away, snatched the manuscript from his hand, and pointed at the pictures on it and said angrily, "This is a top, and this is a skirt! Is it that hard to guess?"

"..." Sinderel once again identified the children's graffiti on the paper and said pertinently, "It's difficult. I thought they were two sandwiches."

!!!

Opesa was furious. She slammed the manuscript on the table and spread it out, pointing at each one. "This isn't a sandwich! I even painstakingly marked my thoughts on the edges. Not only are you stupid, but your eyesight isn't working well either! Come here! I'll show you one by one!"

Opesa pointed at each picture, and Sinderel read it one by one. After reading them all, Opesa's mouth was dry. She picked up the cup and gulped down a few mouthfuls. After moistening her throat, she asked, "Do you understand now?"

Sinderel pursed his lips and finally managed a "hmm." Opesha wiped the water stains from her mouth, put down the cup and said, "It's no use telling you. You can't make clothes for me..."

Opesa was halfway through her words when she suddenly remembered that the "Cinderella" in the story could make clothes. Not only could "Cinderella" make clothes, but even her animal friends could help her make clothes.

But this is a fan fiction world, and Sinderel may not have such a setting.

Having lost the opportunity to get free manpower, Opesha was a little disappointed. When she was about to put away the manuscripts, one of the manuscripts was gently pulled away by Sinderel.

She watched as Sinderel picked up a pen and scribbled on the design, but she had no idea what he was drawing.

Opesa looked over curiously. The charcoal pencil scraped against the paper, making a soft rustling sound, like the night wind blowing through dry leaves. His lines became smooth and precise, imbued with a chilling beauty. The original manuscript's straightforward, almost crude laces were cleverly transformed into winding vine patterns; overly exposed areas were covered with layers of translucent lace, like petals. The overall outline was tightened, becoming more enchanting, yet strangely imbued with a subtle allure.

He seemed not to be revising, but to be committing a silent murder, completely erasing Opesa's out-of-date and out-of-date straightforward imaginations, leaving only the dangerous and itchy splendor that belonged to the darkness of this era.

Sinderel moved the paper in front of her: "This way."

The original crude sketch turned into a beautifully designed and fully-illustrated design. Not only did it perfectly replicate the image in her mind, but the clothing pattern was clear and many small accessories were added, each with its own unique elements.

Opesa was stunned. She looked at the design and then at Sinderell. She could hardly believe her eyes.

Is this the protagonist's extraordinary talent? She was so moved that she almost cried.

She excitedly wanted to pat Sinderel on the shoulder, but the aura of indifference he exuded forced her to bend her hand, which was suspended in the air. She fell to her forehead and scratched it awkwardly. "Ahem... can the sample be made?"

"It's easy to make. We have enough materials here." Sinderel glanced at the materials piled in the corner. "I can make it in a day."

Opesa was so excited that she hugged Sinderel's arm tightly and refused to let go, her eyes full of admiration: "I leave it to you!"

Xindrel frowned, but did not push her away. Instead, he looked away coldly: "Do you still want me to do it?"

"want."

“…Then let go.”

"Oh, oh." Hearing the alarm, Opesa changed her tone instantly, "You mean, bad girl. It's your honor to be close to you."

After letting go, Opesa thought of something else and said arrogantly, "Go home and change your clothes. We can talk about other things tomorrow. The smell of rainwater is very pungent. You don't find it uncomfortable to wear clothes soaked in rain, but I do."

She wanted to take advantage of the opportunity when the owner of the shelter still looked familiar to go back and investigate the matter of the Killer Association.

And Holly.

The sudden appearance of a woman with her tongue cut off in the black market alley would definitely cause some discussion. She could follow the rumors and look for Holly again.

It was just right to confirm whether Holly would write nonsense or say anything else. If so, she wouldn't mind taking her hands away this time.

But Xindrell just looked at her and didn't move. Instead, he replied: "You go too."

Seeing that he didn't move, Opesa could only harden her tone: "Are you ordering me?"

"..." Xindrel was silent for a moment, "Yes."

"you……"

"You won't get sick if you don't change your clothes."

A word of concern, whose tone was not even audible, floated lightly and meaningfully in this small space. The voice was not loud, but it was deafening.

"If you want to get sick and die, I'd rather kill you."

The undisguised azure gaze fixed on her left her helpless, and her lips, which had just been moistened, began to dry out.

Under such burning conditions, she threw away her armor and disguise, and swallowed the harsh words that were on the tip of her tongue.

She finally couldn't hold it anymore and sighed: "Okay, let's go home."

Let's find another time. How else can she refuse this awkward concern?