"Sure, but there will be an additional 10% storage fee. Is that acceptable?" The shopkeeper, upon seeing the elderly woman before her, seemed to have anticipated her arrival and pulled out a delicate little gift box from under the counter, placing it in front of her.
The old woman was wearing a tattered fur coat, seemingly pierced by the cold wind like a devil in many places. The coat was like an old and aging wolf, worn and outdated, but still exuding an extraordinary nobility.
"Alright." The old woman nodded and eagerly took the gift box, opening it to inspect its contents.
Carefully taking out the ring from the box and examining it, the old woman finally let out a sigh of relief, then blushed a little due to her own impatience, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"You can rest assured that even if you didn't say anything, we would still take good care of such a valuable item," the shopkeeper said with a knowing smile, displaying a high level of professionalism.
"Principal and interest... 110,000, right?" The old woman cautiously took out a small bag of coins from her worn-out coat. As if performing some kind of ritual, she stacked the bag on the counter and slowly emptied the coins, one by one.
After counting out eleven coins in a row, the old woman stopped.
"In fact, there's a service charge... but I'll waive it for you," the shopkeeper kindly smiled, accepting the coins and weighing them on a nearby scale.
"The coins from the Era of the Economic Lord. You're paying with eleven of them."
"Alright, the ownership of the ring is now back in your hands."
[What a beautiful ring.]
Turing watched as the old woman took back her ring, feeling deeply frustrated.
["If only I had brought more money when I came out."]
Just as Turing was grumbling to himself and contemplating whether or not to reveal his true identity, Merka entered with a bag of groceries.
"Mrs. Marian?"
Merka's voice interrupted Turing's thoughts, their tone containing three parts surprise and seven parts probing. Turing couldn't help but look towards the direction of the old woman with suspicion, while the old woman, with narrowed eyes, looked at Merka, clearly feeling more confused about the situation.
"I'm sorry, may I ask who you are...?"
The old woman seemed to suddenly realize something, placing a hand on her stomach before gracefully stepping forward like a noble, bypassing Turing and heading straight towards Merka.
She carefully examined Merka, looking her up and down, then nodded as if affirming something.
"Black hair, thin lips... adorable earrings resembling piano keys."
"But most importantly, eyes as vast and chaotic as the starry sky."
Excitement flickered in the old woman's eyes and brows. She gently lifted her dress and, like a delicate Tang flower, twirled her body slightly, curtseying towards Merka's side.
"Oh my, God bless."
"Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You must be Merka, the gentleman my daughter mentioned."
"I apologize for my rudeness the last time we met. I was indulging in an illusory dream and missed the opportunity for communication."
"If you don't mind, please give me another chance to make it up to you this time," the woman said humbly, keeping her head down and holding her skirt, as if she would not lift her head unless Merka agreed. This made Merka feel a bit puzzled.
Merka looked towards Turing not far away, seeking help. He saw Turing playing with a few strands of hair on her forehead with boredom, seemingly uninterested in the old woman.
Noticing Merka's gaze, Turing rolled her eyes, approached, and curiously looked at the old woman, asking Merka, "Merka, who is this?"
"Well, it's a long story," Merka replied.
The old woman looked at Turing, who was standing behind Merka, and her eyes lit up.
"Oh, is this your...?" she asked.
"She's absolutely adorable," she exclaimed.
Seeing Merka's dilemma, the old woman didn't say much more.
"I apologize for being nosy."
"How about the two of you come to my humble abode for a gathering? My husband and I happen to have prepared a relatively sumptuous dinner tonight."
"I can express my gratitude to you properly at the dinner table."
The old woman didn't know that although Merka appeared docile at the moment, she was already starting to complain in her heart.
"Oh, um, sorry, but we happen to be going back to prepare dinner as well," Merka said.
"Take a look."
Merka lifted the bag full of things on her arm and shook it in front of the old woman, grinning with a hint of embarrassment.
"Go ahead, Merka."
"I want to see what ordinary people usually eat."
Turing's fiery red hair swayed gently in the wind like drifting fluff, as if indicating her master's inquisitive mood, akin to that of a curious squirrel.
With her hands behind her back, she casually spoke.
