Chapter 69 — The Failed Project
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
Watching the little old man's gleeful expression, he looked for all the world like someone who had been out of work for two weeks and had finally landed a new job. That image wiped out any lingering impression Gao Yang had of him as some transcendent sage. By now Gao Yang was utterly certain: the fellow's tattered cloth robe, his patched soft cap, his scruffy beard—none of it had anything to do with the ascetic life of a hermit. He was genuinely, simply poor...
The sight made Gao Yang lean over and mutter to Amber: "This person you found... is he really reliable?"
"Oh, relax, will you? His personality may be a bit odd, but you've seen it for yourself, haven't you? At the very least, the druid's skills are real. And you're not one of those hidebound nobles who judges people by birth and clings to rigid rules—don't you always say talent is what matters most?"
He hadn't expected his usual mutterings to sink into this half-elf's heart, and to be turned against him at a moment like this. Gao Yang could only purse his lips in resignation and ask, out of curiosity: "By the way, how did you two meet?"
A little old man who looked like he might well be the disgrace of all druids, and Amber, the disgrace of all elves—they did not look out of place together. Still, Gao Yang was curious how these two had come to know each other. Was it simply that, being the shame of their respective groups, they had found each other kindred spirits?
He hadn't expected his low murmur to be caught by the little old man beside him. This druid, whose ears were just as sharp, turned his head and gave a chuckling grin: "My lord, Amber's foster father and I are old acquaintances. I watched this little girl grow up—by seniority, she ought to call me uncle..."
Amber rolled her eyes at once: "And you, who don't act like an elder in the slightest, expect me to call you uncle?"
"So that's it—there's a history between you." Gao Yang nodded in understanding. He had heard Amber mention her foster father, and knew the man was a human prowler—in plain terms, a thief scraping by at the bottom of society.
Amber wagged her head as she spoke: "This guy used to be thick as thieves with my foster father. Back in the day they even flew some banner about being 'Nightwalkers' and planned to become the greatest thieves in the Southern March—though they never made so much as a name for themselves."
Gao Yang frowned instinctively and looked at the little old man: "You were a thief too?"
"That was years ago, years ago," the little old man waved his hands again and again. "I'm not in that line anymore. Everything I've done these years has been honest work."
Gao Yang found it amusing: "So you switched trades because you couldn't make it as a thief?"
"Because his skills were too lousy," Amber rolled her eyes beside him, her face full of scorn. "He got caught even stealing from the dead, and got beaten black and blue for it. He was never cut out to be a thief—and never cut out to be a druid either, apparently. And now it turns out he's not cut out to be an antiques expert or a cook either."
Gao Yang was stunned: "How do you get caught stealing from the dead?"
"Mainly because there were over two hundred people standing nearby visiting graves at the time..."
The little old man could only stand to one side with an embarrassed smile. Clearly, despite being her elder, his manner toward Amber was remarkably easygoing, and being teased like this by her was probably nothing new. Especially on this subject, Amber had every right and reason to mock his thieving skills: after all, he had been beaten senseless for stealing from the dead, whereas Amber had not only stolen a dead man out, but gone and brought the dead man back to life besides...
Though technically, that situation hadn't really counted as "stealing"...
After a few more words of small talk, Gao Yang suddenly realized he had forgotten something crucial: "Right—I still don't know what to call you."