"Don't get worked up, little sister Yige. It's perfectly normal for my general store to offer rental services too. This place is so out of the way—if someone's willing to pay rent, I think that's great."

"You could've at least told me you were renting here. Honestly."

Having grown used to Larin’s ever-changing nicknames, Mei Yige found the shopkeeper’s straightforward speech refreshingly genuine. Feeling slightly more at ease, she pulled up another stool.

The three of them sat by the doorway, munching skewers and sipping juice.

After Larin’s last drunken outburst, Mei Yige had placed a strict no-alcohol enchantment on her. Though unable to drink, the shopkeeper didn’t mind—she happily guzzled juice instead.

"Teacher," Leya asked earnestly, "in magic, is imagination more important, or total mana capacity?"

A diligent student, Leya seized the chance to seek guidance from Mei Yige. But Mei Yige clearly had neither the intention nor mood to teach. She waved a hand dismissively, then pointed at the juice and skewers—*focus on your midnight snack, not pointless theories*.

Leya’s eyes lit up in sudden understanding.

"I see! As expected of you—such a profound explanation truly makes sense."

"*Huh?*"

Mei Yige’s skewer froze halfway to her mouth. Before she could question it, Leya began muttering to herself:

"Imagination is like these skewers. Only with diverse ingredients and generous seasoning can you create something so delicious people crave more. Magic *can* exist without enough imagination—but magic without imagination doesn’t deserve to be called magic at all. Yet imagination alone isn’t enough either. Just like eating skewers without drinks—you’ll choke. In magic terms, you simply can’t cast it…" Leya gasped. "Heavens, I’m such an idiot! Asking such a stupid question. Must be because I got too excited seeing my teacher…"

*This kid’s completely lost it.*

Mei Yige instantly knew her old friend’s granddaughter had gone utterly magic-mad. She shot Leya a pitying glance and returned to her skewers. Meanwhile, Larin—watching the two mages "teach through everyday life" so harmoniously—rubbed her hands together excitedly.

"Sis Mei, share some of that magical wisdom with us common folk too, huh?"

"You have no talent for magic, Sister Larin."

Larin’s eyebrows shot up, then her grin widened. "That’s the wrong mindset! They say a mage’s head is full of golden ideas—just like us street vendors sweating for every copper coin. If a foreigner pays to buy from my stall, would I refuse?"

"You’ve got a twisted point there."

"I know the saying ‘bask in the spring breeze’ too. Whether I understand it or not—let me bask a little, neighbor to neighbor, right?"

*Only a genius would treat learning magic like scoring freebies.*

Mei Yige massaged her temples. "You’re not wrong. But to me, magic is just… a feeling. All that ‘real vs. unreal’ talk is nonsense. If you have the talent, the feeling hits—and you cast. Simple as that."

"Actually… that makes sense. When the feeling hits, you just *do* it. So mages are basically like—" Larin made a crude gesture, "—taking a dump? Wow, that’s vivid. No wonder you’re the expert. Respect."

Larin gave Mei Yige a thumbs-up. They locked eyes and burst out laughing.

Leya, however, flushed with anger. "How can you compare magic to *that* while eating?! Magic is a sacred miracle bestowed by the Goddess! The Church will drag you away for blasphemy!"

"Let them think what they want," Mei Yige scoffed. "Who knows if those Church folks truly revere the Goddess—or just use her name to cause trouble."

Her heresy startled Leya into calmness. The girl nodded thoughtfully. "You’re right, Teacher."

"*Huh?*"

Mei Yige frowned. Something felt off.

Sure enough—Leya had "understood" again.

"I get it now, Teacher."

"*Get what?*"

Mei Yige had never met someone who overanalyzed like this. She suddenly realized: having this assistant might make her life anything but peaceful… though certainly never boring.

"I was too naive. The path of learning is long and arduous. You and Sister Larin spoke that way to teach me humility—to not grow arrogant just because I’m a mage. The Goddess protects everyone equally. We, blessed with magic, must uphold her ideals. From now on, I’ll keep my impatience in check. I won’t fail your guidance."

Mei Yige took a long gulp of juice, studying Leya’s calm, earnest face from every angle.

"You’d make a perfect civil servant. Seriously, don’t overthink it—I’m a simple person."

"Teacher, I understand you."

Leya’s unwavering certainty deflated Mei Yige completely. *I’m clearly terrible at teaching. Even explanations turn into her monologues.*

*Lisa… I hope I don’t twist your granddaughter into something bizarre.*

Mei Yige silently prayed for a peaceful future. The road ahead looked pitch-black.

"Getting late—time to close up shop…" Larin paused. "Oh, little sister Mei! I just got a shipment of this city treat called *ice cream*. Take some home. Keep it in your freezer. And these juice bottles too—on the house."

Larin stuffed bottles and cartons from the fridge into a bag and thrust it at Mei Yige.

"Why so generous?" Mei Yige asked, surprised by the "free" emphasis. She reached out, concerned. "Are you running a fever?"

"Oof—you’re stabbing me in the heart! We’re neighbors! A little kindness never hurt. Besides…" Larin’s playful tone turned serious. "I asked you questions. Knowledge deserves payment—even if you think it was just banter."

"*You’re* the one stabbing hearts—calculating every penny. Tch. I won’t hold back then."

"Please *don’t* hold back! If you like it, buy from my shop. New stock arrives in two days."

Larin grinned, watching Mei Yige head back to the Western-style house before stretching her arms. "Life won’t be boring anymore."

She shut the shop door, ending another day’s business.

Mei Yige didn’t rush to eat the ice cream—her stomach was still full from skewers. She dumped the bag into the kitchen fridge, grabbed a juice bottle, and headed upstairs.

After she’d drifted into light sleep—

Shiren finally climbed out of the basement, done with her work.

"*She’s already in her room. Good. Running into her would’ve been messy—explaining smells is a hassle. Wait… did she—?*"

Shiren glanced at the kitchen, then the freezer. Spotting the ice cream and juice, she narrowed her eyes slightly. "*Hmm… I’ve got a brilliant idea.*"

A perfect way to reveal her true identity.

Absolutely overwhelming—the presence of the Great Lord Blood Demon.