The dazzling sunlight of the afternoon flooded into the dimly lit restaurant, painfully piercing through the gloom.
The autumn breeze blew gently against the black-and-white maid's dress from behind, carrying a chill and extinguishing the ambiguous candle flames. The atmosphere of the romantic candlelit dinner was instantly transformed into a cold and solemn execution site.
In the blur, it seemed a faint white light flickered briefly in the dim restaurant.
Ann paid no attention; her gaze quickly adapted to the darkness. Within moments, she had taken in everything in the restaurant, leaving no corner untouched by her scrutiny.
Inside the restaurant, there were only three people.
One was an overly flamboyant troublemaker.
Another appeared outwardly honest, but judging from her behavior, and the curves hidden beneath her oversized uniform, she was clearly a covert troublemaker.
And lastly...
An old man with a bald, patchy head?
Anna: “Oh my, do we have a guest here?”
Sari: “No... I’m sorry, dear guest. We’re temporarily closed.”
The bald old man: “Ah bah ah bah...”
As Ann’s gaze swept across the trio, her slender willow-like eyebrows twitched slightly.
The young master isn’t here?
No, everything—from the scent to her instincts—pointed directly to this restaurant.
“Pardon me, I’m not here to dine.”
Ann stepped into the restaurant.
Her posture was straight as a tall reed, and every step she took seemed measured with precision.
Though her demeanor was regal, her entrance was like a charging army, filling the room with an overpowering presence.
Anna had been curiously observing the maid as she entered the restaurant. Her gaze cast sideways, suppressing a chuckle.
But in the next instant—as if responding instinctively to a beast intruding on her territory—Anna straightened and rose to her full height. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly.
On the other side, Sari seemed to sense something as well. Her expression tensed visibly.
“I’m here looking for someone,” Ann said.
“Is there—among you—a blond man?”
“Oh? Looking for someone? Bold of you to just barge in like this—don’t you think that’s a bit rude?”
Anna didn’t answer directly. Instead, she picked up a wine glass nearby and took a slow sip. Her crimson lips appeared to ignite, glowing vividly.
“At the very least, shouldn’t you knock first before entering?”
“I don’t think anyone knocks before entering a restaurant.”
Ann’s gaze swept across the trio once again. Smiling, she replied:
“Or is it that you’re doing something you wouldn’t want others to know about?”
Anna smiled back: “Whatever we’re doing has little to do with you, doesn’t it?”
“That’s correct.”
Ann pondered for a moment before pulling out a photograph.
“So, have any of you seen this person before?”
In the photo, a blond man lay sleeping peacefully, his expression serene.
Judging from the exposed arm and the partially revealed chest under the blanket with defined musculature, the man seemed to be sleeping in the nude.
That such an intimate, unguarded photo was taken spoke volumes about the closeness between him and whoever took the shot.
Ann—!
Where did that photo come from?!
At this moment, the bald Moen—a victim of Anna's senior magic potion—hadn’t grasped why Ann would show up here. Sweat trickled uncontrollably down his face.
He soon realized that as Ann’s personal maid, there was no limit to the kinds of photos she could take of him. She could manipulate him into embarrassing poses, shoot an entire collection of shameful play photographs if she wished.
But the real issue was—
This was not the time to take out such a picture. Doing so was practically...
“Oh my, looks like... a scoundrel. But unfortunately, I’ve never seen him,” Anna commented, glancing at the photograph. Her tone of voice remained unchanged, light and gentle as ever.
But Moen felt his legs trembling uncontrollably beneath him.
Why was he trembling like such a coward?
Moen couldn’t resist slapping his thighs hard to stop himself.
Anna hadn’t cared about his and Sari’s apparent intimacy earlier; would such a trifling matter bother her now?
It’s just a photo taken while sleeping—surely someone with a heart as broad as Anna’s wouldn’t mind that, right?
“Hmm?”
But Moen’s nervous reaction seemed to draw Ann’s attention toward him once more.
“Sir... you seem to be trembling all over. Are you quite alright?”
“I—I’m cold... I’m cold,” Moen croaked, his voice deliberately raspy.
“As one grows older, you see, the chill seems even sharper.”
“But you’re sweating quite a lot too.”
“Hot! I’ve suddenly warmed up again!”
Moen tugged at his collar forcefully, exclaiming, “It’s this little room—it makes one easily feel stifled!”
“Does it? You’re older now, sir, so it’s best to take care of yourself.”
“I will! I certainly will!”
“But now that you mention it...”
Ann lowered her gaze, sweeping her eyes briefly over Moen’s clothing before commenting with a tinge of meaning:
“For someone of your age, your attire is unusually youthful.”
Moen’s lips froze in an awkward half-smile.
A potion could transform appearances, but it couldn’t alter clothing.
Thus, Moen was still dressed in his crisp white shirt and tailored silver-gray jacket adorned with gold tassels—a clear indication of handcrafted upper-class flair. The clothing screamed noble elegance and flamboyant charisma, an undeniable mismatch for a bald old man.
“Well... I suppose I’m young in spirit. Hahaha...”
“I see. That could explain it. Still, dear sir...”
Ann flared her nostrils slightly as though sniffing the air. The room was filled with a heavy fragrance of perfume mingled with something odd—covering up the young master’s scent, yet still...
“I can’t help but feel you resemble him greatly.”
“Wha—what?”
“You do. Your movements, your expressions, even the frequency at which your legs tremble when afraid—it all matches rather closely.”
Ann stepped closer, inching forward with deliberate precision.
Step by step, it was as though she treaded directly upon Moen’s chest.
Moen’s heart had risen into his throat. He knew: if Ann discovered him here, meeting with women—and worse, not just one woman but two...
He would die!
Absolutely!
And even if he didn’t die outright, Ann would surely lock him in iron chains, keeping him as her personal pet for all eternity!
That scenario—anything but that!
But now, Moen could do nothing at all.
The more actions he took, the greater the risk of exposure.
The only thing he could do now was pray. Pray that Ann...
“Miss.”
Just as Moen was silently praying to God, Buddha, the Jade Emperor, and even Nyarlathotep in vain—unable to stop Ann from closing in—he suddenly felt a soft, fragrant warmth encircle his arm.
Anna stepped closer, embracing Moen’s arm like an affectionate lover.
She glanced toward Ann, her smile as gentle as ever.
“Don’t you think you may be mistaken? If something’s wrong with your vision, I could call a doctor to assist you.”
She paused, adding with precision, “Take a closer look—my boyfriend could hardly be the man in your photo.”
“Your... boyfriend?”
Ann glanced once at the old bald man and then at Anna again. For the first time, her tone carried a hint of doubt.
“Your taste... is rather special.”
“Isn’t there an old saying?”
Anna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her movements full of charming elegance.
“True love transcends everything.”
