Play a ga with ?
Marinda looked at Arthur with suspicion.
This lady's face was full of doubt.
Moreover, she was quite forthright about her skepticism—
"I feel like you're up to no good.
And, a ga as a form of compensation...
Do you think I'm a child?"
Marinda crossed her arms in front of her chest, leaning back in her chair, her deep blue eyes unblinkingly fixed on Arthur.
Imdiately, Arthur burst into laughter.
"You can't play adult gas, can you?
I am doing this to take care of you!
Get to work, woman.
I'm going back to catch so more sleep."
Without giving Marinda another chance to speak, Arthur picked up the small cookies in front of him and lay back down on the floor mattress.
In recent days, he had been severely sleep-deprived.
His "Rituals" and "Bloodline" were notifying him of it.
Arthur had no desire for any accidents to occur.
Of course, catching up on sleep was necessary.
Before drifting into dreamland, it was indeed a pleasure to watch Marinda busy herself and to munch on so snacks.
As Arthur lay there, he thought about how the northwest wind howled outside, the heavy snow twirling midair, while poor Marinda swept the streets in her thin clothes.
And him, Arthur?
He would naturally be sitting by a warm fire, with a copper pot for hotpotting mutton.
It had to be mutton hotpot!
Not hotpotting that mutton would be an insult to Marinda's frozen body.
Just thinking about it felt wonderful.
"I suspect you're thinking about sothing indecent."
Marinda put down her pen, her gaze shifting to Arthur.
It wasn't that she wasn't focused, but Arthur's smile was just too distracting for her.
Especially the corners of his mouth, that barely-there smile, was simply asking for a slap.
She really wanted to smack him across the face.
"Not at all.
I was just recalling so childhood mories—back then, my grandfather used to write sothing here too, while my parents, uncles, and aunts were busy around him. I would play here.
Ti flies so fast."
Arthur pointed to where he used to play, then after a sigh, he turned over.
The cookies were finished.
It was ti to sleep.
As for the words just spoken?
'Spirit dium' words, do you believe them?
Marinda never believed in the words of 'Spirit diums', but when Arthur spoke those words, Marinda still hesitated.
This lady couldn't discern the truth from lies.
But a mont later, she was certain Arthur was tricking her.
Because—
Huh-huh!
Mixed within the long breaths were snoring sounds.
No person could let out such a sigh, and then fall into deep sleep so instantly.
Click!
The pen in the lady's hand snapped.
Ink splattered, the table a ss.
Even Marinda got so on her.
But the lady simply cleaned up the ss with an indifferent expression.
She was waiting for the ga Arthur talked about.
If she wasn't satisfied...
That would be the ti to settle the total account.
Thinking this, the lady smiled and declined Ms. Anna's offer of help, beginning to tidy up the ssy table.
anwhile, Arthur opened one eye.
'Tsk!
I need to think of a new ga.
The last one won't work.'
A philosopher once said if she's naïve, show her the world's splendors; if she's already heart-weary, just a rry-go-round.
Marinda was clearly the latter.
And it was the reinforced, toughened, upgraded version.
So Arthur planned to use the "Did you smile at the stove front, asking if the porridge is warm?" approach.
However, the scene that just unfolded told Arthur that wasn't going to work.
Arthur was certain that if he dared to ask Marinda if the porridge was warm, she would slam the bowl of porridge onto his face and then ask HIM if it was warm.
Even worse...
It would be asking if the blood was warm.
Arthur definitely didn't want to experience any of that.
Therefore, he ca up with a whole new plan.
What's the most important thing for a Spirit dium?
Is it the charm in their words?
Or the personal skills that co with a variety of hidden machinery?
None of the above!
It is, adaptability!
Adaptability is the most important quality of a "Spirit dium." A "Spirit dium" that doesn't have three sets of contingency plans isn't a qualified "Spirit dium."
And to beco an excellent "Spirit dium"?
You need at least five sets of contingency plans!
At that ti, Arthur asked Old Charlie, who had spoken these words, how many plans he had prepared?
Old Charlie replied with a mysterious expression.
N 1!
At first, Arthur didn't know what N represented.
But lately, he's co to understand a bit.
Of course, he couldn't reach Old Charlie's level, but as an excellent "Spirit dium," he still had five standard contingency plans.
As for a "Spirit dium" needing necromancy abilities?
What era are we in? Who still needs that kind of traditional Spirit dium?
People need to look ahead.
The future is where things get exciting.
After all, everyone shows their behinds in the past.
The world is like a huge makeshift theater troupe.
Everything and everyone needs to be seen from the front because from the front, it all looks shiny and beautiful, all is well. If you insist on looking from behind, then you need to be prepared ntally.
Because—
The world won't spare those who pry into its affairs.
It will crush anyone who tries to scrutinize it, bit by bit, inch by inch, until the person softly says, "Living, isn't that how everyone does it?" before it will let them go.
If the person says, "This is life, isn't it?" then the world will treat them kindly.
Because this is a kind person, deserving of gentle and kind treatnt.
Unfortunately, Arthur wasn't a traditionally good man.
He was just a tiny bit too sharp around the edges.
So Arthur chose the lifestyle he liked: although sotis there might be a tiny bit of hardship for others, most of the ti, he was happy.
"May this happiness continue!"
With a simple and steady thought, Arthur's breathing beca long and even once again.
In front of her desk, Marinda continued to work hard, her head buried in her tasks.
The sound of the fountain pen scratching across the pages and the deep breathing ebbed and flowed.
The two didn't interfere with each other but instead complented one another.
Whenever the pen's scratching on the pages beca too frequent, the snoring would involuntarily rise in pitch.
And when there was a pause in the scratching, the snoring would stop.
Anyway, Arthur tried his best to accommodate Marinda.
At first, Marinda suspected that Arthur was doing it on purpose, but after two deliberate tests, she discovered that Arthur was truly asleep.
'Asleep... They're all like this when they sleep.
What a rascal!' Marinda thought as she picked up the box and docunts and headed to the hallway.
Arthur opened one eye again, his mouth curving into a smirk.
Then he truly fell asleep.
Ti passes quickly when you're asleep.
When Arthur opened his eyes again, it was already evening.
Marinda, who had finished her work, sat in a high-backed chair with a cup of hot tea in one hand and the other hand resting on her raised knee, her posture exuding aggressiveness. Her deep blue eyes stared intently at Arthur, yet her voice was full of tenderness—
"What about your ga?
I can't wait." she said, as she placed her teacup down on the table beside her.
Arthur grinned and shrugged, then went straight to describing the ga.
Marinda was taken aback and asked instinctively—
"Are you sure?!"
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