Chapter 485: Chapter 485 Vampire Diaries_1 Chapter 485: Chapter 485 Vampire Diaries_1 Shangjing’s alleyways have a unique layout, different from other places.
Even in the most remote corners, a casual turn can often lead to a quiet and elegant bookstore.
These bookstores are usually small, but as the saying goes, “A sparrow may be small but it has all the vital organs”; one can often find unexpected treasures within.
Stepping into such a shop on a bright sumr afternoon, holding a book you like, and inhaling the faint scent of ink in the air is the epito of comfort.
And the people willing to run such a small shop tend to be free-spirited and outstanding, not minding your actions—right?
“Are you the owner?”
Adopting a posture reminiscent of Ge You slouch, Fu Qian lay on a rocking chair behind the counter, his eyelids open just a slit, looking at the person standing before him.
Forty or fifty years old, tall and straight, he wore a deep gray suit that was obviously tailor-made, and his slightly graying temples were ticulously grood.
The bearing of this gentleman was undoubtedly different from those hunched in the corners over white pages; he positively radiated a refined deanor from head to toe.
And in this mont, such a suitably poised figure was surveying his surroundings with a scrutinous gaze, including Fu Qian, his frown barely concealed.
“Yes.”
Apart from his voice, not a single aspect of Fu Qian’s posture changed.
“Do you have—”
“No.”
The man had only gotten halfway through his sentence before Fu Qian interrupted.
“I haven’t even said which book.”
The refined gentleman was visibly shaken, his expression rigid for a mont.
“The bookshelves are too ssy; I can’t be bothered to look through each one. You help find it.”
“Correct, it has already been consud by chaos.”
Having tended to the custor, Fu Qian closed his eyes again.
I…
With such a terrible attitude, it was no doubt infuriating for the refined gentleman, as it was clear that this scoundrel had no idea what the dictum “the custor is always right” ant.
But this gentleman wasn’t the type to give up easily.
So the refined gentleman just stood there, starting to look over each book one by one.
Perhaps luck was on his side, or perhaps it was to feign such luck, but a few minutes later he found what he was looking for.
He marched over, grabbed it, and tossed the book onto the counter from on high.
“Check out.”
“This is not for sale, it’s given away with another book.”
After a re glance, Fu Qian remained expressionless.
I’ll be damned…
Suppressing the urge to slap the book across Fu Qian’s face, the refined gentleman clenched his teeth.
“Which book does it co with?”
“Another copy of this book.”
Fu Qian’s response was utterly natural.
Without another word, the refined gentleman just stared at Fu Qian, shaking for more than ten seconds before turning around and leaving without a word.
This gentleman still had a shred of sense and wasn’t naive enough to look for another copy.
Because even if he did find another one, this rascal could just as easily claim it wasn’t accompanying that particular book.
No help for it, when dealing with such a character, nobody has any recourse.
Given his posture, the shop must certainly be his own.
…
After serving the custor, Fu Qian once again entered a state of shut-eye repose.
He had planned to ask Wen Li for so bullets, but she had temporarily left Shangjing.
And such a matter was not yet worth troubling her butler over, lest the person involved read too much into it.
So, with no pressing matters at hand, why not get back to one’s proper job for a while?
The bookstore hadn’t been open for so long that his own business was almost neglected.
Thus, Fu Qian’s bookstore opened for business once again, and up to now, one could only say that the feel was still quite good.
Of course, that was hard for custors to empathize with.
Whether it was the departing refined gentleman or the remaining crowd, all were stunned by the rather too welcoming ambiance.
After comparing their own behavior, a few remaining custors quietly put down the books in their hands and slipped out.
In the blink of an eye, the bookstore beca even quieter.
Click!
Not long after, the sound of the door opening shattered the silence.
The few who were still persevering looked over, curious to see which unfortunate soul had taken the wrong path.
However, upon seeing the newcor, a srizing haze appeared unanimously in their eyes.
The visitor was a rather handso gentleman, whose age was sowhat difficult to discern.
His skin was pale, his eyes were black and deep, and when he glanced around, a hint of crimson could barely be seen.
He was not dressed formally, rely wearing a dark shirt casually, but exuded an elegance that was hard to put into words.
The previously well-mannered gentleman paled in comparison; he instantly beca an old man with a contrived deanor.
And facing the gazes of others, the visitor did not seem to mind at all; in fact, one might even say he enjoyed it.
He clearly was not here to buy books, as he headed straight for Fu Qian’s position as soon as he entered.
Although they were strangers, a look of concern appeared on the faces of the others; it seed they couldn’t bear to see him treated the sa way by the disagreeable owner as the previous one had been.
“We’re closed; please, head out,” he said in a calm voice, standing tall before Fu Qian and giving him a thorough look-over.
The phrase seed to carry an inexplicable magic, as the remaining custors imdiately put down their books and left without a word.
In an instant, the bookstore was empty, and the visitor dragged a chair to sit opposite Fu Qian.
“Are you the owner of this shop?” he asked bluntly, without hesitation, a question that seed familiar.
“Yes,” sighed Fu Qian.
It seed he could only steal half a day of peace; soone had co to disturb him so soon in his struggle.
“Do you—” the visitor paused for a mont.
“Accept old books here?”
Old books?
Fu Qian thought for a mont and nodded naturally.
To grow and thrive, diversification was indeed the way to go.
“Of course, but I need to see what book it is first.”
“It’s quite a special one, ancient and precious,” said the man nad Tyler Gulad, introducing himself while doing so.
Of course.
Fu Qian wasn’t at all surprised by the na.
With such a classic vampire look, it was the epito of the Bloodline Clan’s style.
And the only vampire he had any sort of grievance with was none other than the Gulad Family.
Indeed, such ancient families with years of heritage had their own persistencies about certain things.
Having been disadvantaged over the matter with Gan Zuoxun, and despite the obvious displeasure of the Night Watchman, Tyler still wanted to probe Fu Qian.
It was also a matter of face; whether he truly had the guts for retaliation was uncertain, but the gesture needed to be made.
By now, Tyler had taken out a book he carried with him, unwrapped it from its many layers, and finally revealed a black cover before their eyes.
The book wasn’t very large, just a bit wider than a palm, and judging from the wear on the cover, it indeed had so age.
Its appearance was very much like that of a diary.
Fu Qian thought to himself, then noticed Tyler had already turned the book’s orientation toward him and pushed it across.
“Please, take a look.”
“All right,” said Fu Qian, casually flipping open a page, only for his brows to furrow the next mont.
Could it really be a diary?
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