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Chapter 18: Lance the Protector of the Jobseekers

Chiaki straightened her face to feign the real indifference on her heart. This realm did never want her to excel at this path, huh? Why did it have to pair her with an evil solipsist like Lance Hua? He kept testing her with this attitude. When all the guests turned their necks to glare at him, Chiaki only cleared her throat and hid half her face behind the teacup, the content was not even sipped.

She wished a hole would open on the floor to swallow her whole. Or a new disease of the anomalies made her invisible to everyone. But there was no such a hole, and neither was the specific disease. She mentally threw away the responsibilities to control this untamed beast to Jasper Wymark.

The West Guardian propped his chin up over his fist, eyes gleaming with amusement towards his eccentric guest. Chiaki noticed the other hand of his that rested on his thigh tapped on it repeatedly, his tic when he was impatient. Chiaki withdrew from the obligation to clarify to the guests on behalf of her husband. She prepared a bucket of snacks to enjoy the imminent banter.

"May we know what's funny, Lord Hua?" Jasper drawled.

Here it is.

"Oh," Lance Hua smirked. His face contorted back to his usually disdainful expression. "The West Guardian gives away the Skeleton Medallion to whoever wins the competition?"

"Correct," Jasper replied. The circlet on his forehead glittered as its gold reflected the chandelier light.

"Then, could you show us how the medallion looks?"

Chiaki never saw the medallion, and the memories of the original Chiaki Spring didn't have this. Naturally, she would want to see what Lance Hua fussed about.

But the West Guardian only pursed his lips. "There was no point to debate about it. Are you implying that a Guardian will hand a fake medallion to the winner?"

Lance Hua suppressed his sneer. He looked down to the table and then sipped his tea. Chiaki half waited if he would criticise the osmanthus tea since it was his land's speciality. Fortunately, he was still focused on the prize. "Of course, I dare not do that. Why would I jeopardise the harmonious relationship with the Guardians, as I married one?"

Old man, can't you think before you speak? This is a deliberate action to drag me down with you!

As expected, all eyes switched to look at her. Chiaki wore the best expression of her indifference. Eyes focused on the empty centre stage, hands not fidgeting like a nervous person. Instead, she picked a slice of the caramel pudding served on the table. The alarm in her brain blared as she knew Gin shot a dagger in his glare at her. She ignored that purposefully.

Reading somewhere in the physical realm that chewing on food would give the brain a false sense of security because it tricked your brain into thinking that the situation was now safe; otherwise how could you still eat? She swallowed the overly sweet dessert that slid down a slippery route to her food pipe.

The West Manor people and their jurisdiction loved to indulge themselves in sweets. Her taste buds found it challenging to adjust.

She only sensed from the corner of her eye that Jasper Wymark threw a lingering glance at her, a gaze that felt like bugs crawling underneath her skin. Perhaps, the old Chiaki wouldn't feel it this way. But she couldn't help as she didn't come from this world.

Wait, how about the current Jasper Wymark? If he was also a transmigrator, what would he think about her? A missed opportunity as the General Spring had now been married, or disgust for this licentious lifestyle? But, if this Jasper Wymark had transmigrated earlier, did he have the chance to sleep with the old Chiaki?

Do I act convincingly, or do I need to be more unbridled? System, this pulverises my brain, just so you know. How many permutations are there for me to adapt my conduct to every different person? Aaaarggghhh!

[Recite the Path of Indifference about this again.]

The one true path of indifference is, first and foremost, to answer to oneself.

One wears different masks and colours to stand in different situations.

But those colours and layers are like earthly dust covering the effulgence of a burning soul.

As one can't escape Death, one can't escape self-accusation.

Who am I? Am I just a snake wearing the dead skin of Chiaki Spring?

"Can we get back to General Wymark's speech, please?" She found herself speaking.

She knew that the corner of Lance's lips twitched because of this interruption, but he dropped the matter nonetheless.

Jasper Wymark had lost his appetite to be lengthy in his speech as it seemed. The tassel of his epaulettes trembled as he clapped his hands to start the competition.

"Let's begin," he said briefly. The general banter with Lance Hua killed his cheerful mood. Now his vibrant blue jacket dulled as his expression grew sombre.

The first participant joined. It was an official from the East Guardian's household. Oriole Hart didn't say a word in today's event. He didn't touch a single snack on his tray from the first hour of the banquet and musical competition. When his attendant who sat behind him offered to pour him some wine, he lifted his hand to say no. Was he fasting? Their esoteric practice only instructed them on sexual intercourse. The paths the Guardian took had little impact on their physical needs or desires. Only Chiaki walked the most strenuous one, as it guided her on how to decide and act upon her feelings.

Chiaki suspected something had happened in his region. She wanted to talk to him and asked about it, but leaving her table only to chat with General Hart under all this judging gaze would put her as the immediate gossip target. People would suspect that her relationship with Lord Hua wasn't good — which was true, thank you very much, we verbally sparred every day — and she went back to her old way before marriage. And it would tip the balance of the four Guardians' relationship, she assumed, because the other two would consequently want the same attention again.

To top it all off, Gin Burtenshaw was here, and she had to give a perfect example to her nephew, lest he would curse her again for being so flippant. But sitting with a straight back like this, with the man next to her refusing to talk to her as if she was an unworthy ant, would be torturously dull for her.

How many more participants were joining? They were at the third participant already, this lady was from one of the elders' adviser team. The first one played the violin, the second one played the flute, and now she played a grand piano. The first two brought their instruments, but this mature lady played the piano provided by the Wymarks.

Unable to talk to anyone, she chatted with System. It was cool at first to have someone in your head who could navigate the direction. But it was pathetic at the moment to speak with it as the only way out of the boredom. It felt like the consequential silence of the pandemic isolation all over again; the only noise she could hear was the voice in her head. Without another baseline, she didn't even know if the voice was sane or not.

System, I want to talk with someone else. Gin hates me, this old man beside me doesn't care about me, and Oriole Hart might need my help but leaving this old man would be troublesome. He made me a laughingstock, and I couldn't defend myself without being even deeper in the joke pool.

There was no response from System.

I get it, you're not my therapist. But it is sometimes needed, you know, to pretend we have a friend we can talk to.

Shutting her eyelids only to open them again with determination, she was resolute. If the Path of Indifference let her live with a purpose in this new realm, protecting people and defeating evil, she would walk over each pebble with a dutiful feeling, however lonely the path made her.

Adjusting didn't mean accepting defeat; it only meant she manoeuvred like a leaf on a stream, following the current and eddies to stay afloat.

"My lord," called her lowly, "how do you find the competition?"

"If my servant makes a pot of osmanthus tea like that, the next thing he knows is being exiled from his clan."

See? His mouth is only slightly restrained today, but he still finds points to quibble.

"Not about that, but maybe, about the musical performances?"

Lance Hua threw a cold glance from the corner of his eye. "Did my reception for you at the mansion lack anything?"

She sighed, only heard by him as they sat closely. "Of course not. Give me your cup, I'll pour you this tea." The teapot next to her contained the usual jasmine tea, just like what she served in the South Manor.

"No need. It doesn't matter. Your friend doesn't care about his hospitality. He even gives something as cheap as the Skeleton Medallion for a prize," he scoffed as he eyed Azure and Gin's table lazily. "He only wants to raise the protection for free. This banquet costs nothing for him, but it gains barrier fortification that lasts until next spring."

Similar to the scam called the job interview, then, thought Chiaki. In her physical world, companies who were stingy and conducted shady practices would prefer to solve their problems by asking the job application candidates the same question they were mulling over without solutions. The candidates spent time and effort cracking the case and presented it back to the recruiters, only to hear nothing back from them for the weeks to come.

Because the fact was the company only wanted to hear the proposed solutions from many candidates, contested each with the pool, and formulated their solution based on the inspirations. Or simply being a copycat. There was no actual job opening; it was all just a con for free problem-solving.

The jobseeker's hope was trampled to death, crushed under the pretence of a vacancy. Chiaki hated this specific deception as she was a job seeker, too. Her friends and cousins fell victim to it.

And now, this scam still happened even in this realm where she thought she could start anew with a fresh idealistic worldview.

Clenching her fists, she told Lance Hua. "I'll stop this at once. I don't know the medallion and why you think it's a joke. But it sounds like most performers agree it's something to fight for. It's dishonesty if it's not true."

Lance Hua shook his head. His canine was visible as he grinned. "So you want to stop something without fully understanding the reason? Is this the action the disciple of the Path of Indifference must take?"

Every time he contrasted the path with her action, she was like getting punched in the ribs. Sucking her breath, she lowered her head and muttered under her breath. "Then, please enlighten me on this. I'll punish Jasper if he lies to people."

Lance Hua only clicked his tongue. And then, he stood up and dawdled to the centre stage after the lady finished playing her song.

Chiaki's eyes grew as wide as saucers, she hammered it onto her head that all bets were off every time it came to this lord.

"It's so boring, West Guardian. With many elders and the other Guardians present, are you showing such a mediocre show?"

Jasper creased his eyebrows, speaking from his gritted teeth, "Must everything be a beer and skittles for you?"

The guests twitched in rage as raising voice reached Chiaki's ears. Uh oh.

"Let me play one song to teach you, people, how strong the music-sourced barrier should be."

Colours drained from everyone's face.

System, is embarrassment also forbidden?

Chiaki could only rest her forehead on her palm.


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