01: Truck-kun, Truck-kun, wherefore art thou, Truck-kun?
283 0 4
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

What is a woman to do after reincarnating? Her cultivation crippled, the realm she inhabited foreign, and even her old name lost to her. There was one familiar comfort left to Daphne in these trying times: shopping.

There were some fates worse than dying Daphne supposed. She could have been poor.

From what Daphne had surmised, her father was one of the Emperor’s ministers, while her mother was the heiress of an ancient lineage. With such esteemed ancestry, the odds were good that this body of hers held some divine constitution, if only she could discover what it was! The old Daphne had done little to cultivate her qi or hone her body.

At least I’m not ugly, Daphne thought as she stared at her reflection in the hand mirror. If she had to describe her cheeks with one word, she would liken them to clouds—round, white, and too easily dampened by tears. She was a thin slip of a girl nearly seventeen, pretty and with a willowy waist, but how could she consider herself a jade beauty with such a soft body? Jade was smooth, but hard.

Like a gemstone even.

It was an intolerable state of affairs that she had to rely on others for her own protection. A pair of nights accompanied her carriage. Neither of them were dark-skinned, nor were they particularly inconspicuous in their gleaming armor, so it escaped her entirely why they named themselves that.

“Put it away,” Daphne said, waving away the servant and the hand mirror she held up.

“Yes, Lady Daphne,” the serving girl said. Her black dress had a white trim, with a ruffled half-apron tied at her waist. Her full skirt ended just above her knees, and a black lace garter and tights covered her lower legs. She also wore heels that were a few inches shorter than Daphne’s.

The carriage shuddered to a halt at the heart of an arrogant young town cultivating the dao of civilization. It was close to breaking into the city stage, but its lower population core had not finished condensing into slums.

Daphne stuck her head out the door, sweeping both ends of the street with her eyes. Only when she was confident there were no cabbage carts in sight did she step out her carriage. She would have looked for old monsters too but her body was more insensitive to qi than a hero to a woman’s feelings.

I suppose there is one benefit to this body, Daphne thought as she walked along the paved streets. It was well-accustomed to balancing on such high heels, and allowed her to look down on people even taller than herself.

The street she was on was filled with cake shops, seamstresses, and jewellers. Most importantly, it had that essential ingredient that a woman of noble birth required for any outing to be considered successful—poor orphans to perform charity upon. It was not enough to be rich, others had to know you were.

She patronized all the usual boutiques an aristocrat would at first, buying a dress here, having a half slice of desert there, letting the poor eat cake … but Daphne was here for a purpose. Beyond acquiring nice things, she was here to acquire useful things, and where better to stumble upon rare artifacts than the most rundown and dingy shops? When one mastered wei wu wei, the dao of doing non-doing, finding even a qilin’s horn or a millenia old ginseng root was as simple as shopping.

Chimes rubbed and rattled as she entered her shop of choice, located in one of the seedier side alleys jutting from the main street at an angle. One of the guards stood watch outside, barring anyone else from entry, while the other filtered in behind her and loomed menacingly. Ah, what was more familiar than having one’s junior stare daggers into someone for daring to breathe the same air as Daphne?

“My lady,” the shopkeep said, bowing and sending the last wisps of his graying hair aflutter. “How may I be of service?”

Daphne scanned through the pieces of jewelry displayed within glass casings. “Do you have any spatial rings?”

“Spatial rings?”

“Spatial rings,” Daphne said again.

“I’m not familiar with this particular design, but we have a wide selection available if you care to take a look,” the man said.

Though a fish swims in the sea, it does not comprehend its depths. There were indeed many fashions of rings from simple silver bands to golden ones that twisted into peculiar shapes. Through sheer numbers alone surely a few of these must be special in some way? “How much for the rings?” she asked.

“Which one’s caught your eye?”

“All of them.”

His jaw hung open.

“Also, if you’ve come into possession of any weapons or books that you haven’t been able to sell in a while, I’ll take a look at those too,” Daphne said.

The shopkeeper was silent for a long while, looking utterly lost. After seven long heartbeats, he answered, “My lady, this is a jewellry shop.”

“I see,” Daphne said with a frown. Unfortunate that they had no secret scriptures on hand. “So just the weapons then?”

Her guard cleared his throat. “Weapons aren’t jewelry, Lady Daphne.”

“You simply lack imagination,” Daphne said. “Everything is jewelry if you add enough gems.”

“As you say,” the guard said. “Still, why sully your hands with one?”

Daphne scoffed. “I’m not a barbarian. Just because there are people out there addicted to courting death does not mean I cannot look fabulous while granting their wish.”

“You have us knights for that,” he said. “You need only give the word, and we would strike down any fool that dares besmirch your honor.”

“Junior, what is your name?”

“I am William, squire to Sir Ronald the Red,” he said. “I … believe I am also older than you, my lady.”

Daphne flipped golden strands of hair over her shoulder. “Younger people can be senior too. Seniority is not about age.”

“As you say?” Will said, his brows drawing together. “In any case, we ought to return home soon, Lady Daphne. Night is falling quickly outside.”

“Call for the coachman then. I shall finish up here shortly,” Daphne said. She pinned the shopkeeper with a look. “Are you certain you have no weapons or scriptures?”

“I can check my stock again, if you’d like?” the shopkeeper offered.

“Please do,” Daphne said with a firm nod. Through the windows, Daphne spotted Will sharing words with the guard outside, before the guard left to summon her carriage. Was this what it was like being the heir to a sect? People just did things for you despite one’s lack of strength? Daphne decided she could get used to this.

“My lady,” her maid said in a small voice, “won’t your father disapprove of this? This is a significant purchase.”

Daphne pitied her servant, for she had eyes, but could not see Mount Tai. “I am only spending gold, but the treasures I might uncover here could be as rare as a phoenix’s feather!”

The maid glanced about the shop’s shelves, before turning back to her with a look. “What kind of treasure are you expecting to find here?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll find out soon enough,” Daphne said as the shopkeeper returned with a blanket. What immortal weapon or sacred treasure lay beneath the wool? Her fingers tingled in anticipation as she unwrapped the wool. It was a sword, because what else could it be? The steel was pockmarred by dried blood and rust and had lost its bite long ago. “Tell me about its history.”

“A tinker who used to supply me with gems left it here one day,” he said. “I never found the time to throw it out.”

So it belongs to someone else, Daphne thought. Should she take it with her? There might be many crouching tigers in this realm, and even a frog in a well knew not to wake a sleeping dragon! Still, it might draw a wandering master to her and perhaps she could convince him to take her on as a disciple? So long as she did not hold onto it stubbornly when the time came, who could fault her? “To throw it out is a waste. How much for it?”

“I wouldn’t dare take a copper penny for this after your patronage today!” the shopkeeper said. “If you want it, it’s yours.”

Her maid stepped forward to accept the rusted sword and the velvet box holding her rings as Daphne settled her account with the shopkeeper. The carriage had yet to arrive when they exited the shop. The sun had already set, and sordid men stepped out of the shadows, forming a ring around them.

They had been waiting for her it seemed.

4