The spacious hall was crowded with people, with warlocks all dressed in neat black robes and wearing pointed wizard hats, and witches competing for beauty in colorful, extravagant gowns.
This was a ball.
Mistletoe branches reached out from the corner of the walls, densely covering the entire ceiling, but instead of its yellow flowers or pearl-like fruits, it bore clusters of purplish-red flowers resembling upside-down pyramids. Zheng Qing looked up, gazing at the layers of glimring petals, and after close observation, he finally recognized them as butterfly peas, commonly known as rugosa roses, though he couldn’t understand why such plants were growing from the mistletoe branches.
Elegant and light music wafted through the ears, while milky white mist rolled beneath the feet, and the cold moonlight, from unknown origins, spread through the mist, rendering it hazy, causing guests’ shadows to overlap and twist, creating a bizarre and eerie atmosphere accompanied by the sound of tapping dance steps.
"...Graduating early benefits you, , and Dong Dong."
Su Shijun’s voice gradually beca clear in Zheng Qing’s ears, pulling him back to reality, realizing he was dancing hand in hand with a witch, twirling underneath the mistletoe. The Moon Council’s upper house mber wasn’t wearing glasses; her charming face appeared even paler under the cold moonlight. She seemingly didn’t notice the warlock’s montary distraction and continued speaking self-assuredly:
"...Ever since Dong Dong was born, she has lacked sufficient love from the family. I’m too busy with work, and you have to focus on your studies... It’s essentially as though she’s been left to her own devices... It was fine when she was younger, but now she’s capable of going out on her own. This cannot continue... Graduating early will allow you to spend more ti caring for her..."
"But Dong Dong isn’t even two years old yet!" Zheng Qing, not knowing where the courage ca from, finally voiced his long-standing concern: "Isn’t it better to let her grow up freely and happily?"
"Childhood happiness cos at the cost of longer sorrow in adulthood." The witch stared sternly at him, appearing as though she wanted to say more, but the music by the ear suddenly beca urgent.
The short music mingled with intense drumbeats, causing the entire ballroom to beco restless. Zheng Qing looked around and found everyone’s dance steps seed fast-forwarded, the witches’ wide skirts fluttering like butterfly wings, while warlocks, like bees performing a figure-eight dance, rapidly spun around witches. In the chaos, Su Shijun’s voice too beca sowhat broken: "...Today’s... Hard work... When you grow up... If you don’t mind..."
"...If you don’t mind..."
"...Don’t mind..."
The music abruptly stopped, and the witch’s voice by the ear suddenly turned icily clear, causing the warlock to shiver as he stared intensely. The witch he was dancing with had unknowingly transford into Jiang Yu.
"Nothing matters!"
She stared at the young man expressionlessly, stiffly raising her head and puffing her chest with eyes full of pride and disdain: "Moving anywhere doesn’t matter! Where I reside is the main house... I won’t escape... Why do you need to escape? The escape’s endpoint isn’t a paradise."
"Ah! You’re dancing with other witches behind the upper house mber’s back!" A female voice scread by the ear, full of incredulousness and anger.
The entire dance floor ceased due to this scream.
Everyone turned their heads in unison, looking at the warlock.
Pa!
The lights disappeared, leaving only a dim yet mottled spot of light engulfing the young man, as incantation whispers erged in the darkness like thousands of insect beasts crawling toward him. Frightened, Zheng Qing reached for the grey cloth bag at his waist, but instead of pulling out a charm gun, he drew out a sticky, enormous tentacle, laden with suckers slowly wriggling, revealing rows of sharp teeth. At the tentacle’s tip, a black and white eyeball abruptly opened, staring intently at the dumbfounded young man.
Zheng Qing clearly saw that the reflection in the eyeball wasn’t his own image but a narrow raven face.
Whoosh!
He abruptly opened his eyes amidst his own scream and sat bolt upright, fearfully scanning around, his dazed expression slowly dissipating, and consciousness gradually becoming clear again.
There weren’t any witches and balls.
Nor were there tentacles with sharp teeth and eyeballs.
And certainly no ravens.
He was presently seated on the living room sofa, supervising Poseidon studying.
The sunshine outside the window was just right, with a small garden filled with colorful flowers and a faint sound of elves giggling among the blossoms, alongside fox maids’ cheerful conversations.
The warlock fearfully touched his forehead, feeling a hand of cold sweat.
Thankfully, thankfully, it was rely a normal nightmare, with the nightmare doll’s head still hanging from the neck in his pocket, seemingly no one had been hexing him, purely self-frightening.
"Did you commit sothing unethical in your dream?" An eerie voice suddenly sounded by the warlock’s ear, securing his recently cald heart back into a tense knot.
Zheng Qing turned his head, discovering Su Ya, clutching a rag. She must have been wiping down chairs earlier, yet he knew not how long she had been standing there beside him.
The heart, knotted tightly, began to unfold, contract, and pulse, pumping fresh plasma to repaint his previously pallid face to normal hues.
"Mind your own business!" The warlock exhaled, feeling humiliated and speaking carelessly.
Su Ya ’swished’ forward, her face almost on Zheng Qing’s nose tip, smirking, muttering in a very low voice: "I don’t care whether you dreamt of stepping into a warm pile of Furry Bean poop while sleeping; I rely warn you, don’t annoy Miss! Otherwise, next ti, the thing I hold won’t be just a rag!"
She threateningly stretched out the clean rag in her hand.
Zheng Qing was montarily stunned, extended his hand to seize the little fox lady’s collar, rising, and tossed her out of the living room.
"Go and wipe the stairway floor!" He commanded as the owner of Greenhill Mansion while carefully observing several outer rooms from the hall.
Everything was intact; the house was still here.
Ultimately, the witches still knew their limits.
Greenhill Mansion hadn’t fallen to catastrophe in a cheerful and peaceful festival atmosphere, and Poseidon was spared the tragic destiny of being forced to wander the streets during the grand occasion.
The world was completely serene and harmonious.
One could easily write today’s diary entry: Nothing happened today.
Zheng Qing thought as such, tiptoeing, sneaking back to the living room, nudging Poseidon awake along the way, who was napping on the math exercise book, and reminding: "Beware of your drool!... Truly not even as good as a Furry Bean!"
ow!
Gouzi, responding to the call, erged from under the table leg, rrily twisting around the warlock’s feet, and not far above it, the little fox cluelessly lifted her head, wiped the drool from her mouth corner, then changed posture to lie back down to sleep.
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