The bar housed a magical fireplace—no firewood needed, flames burning bright. On rainy days, it silently radiated light and warmth, banishing the damp chill.
Lilith had used this very fireplace to leave for the Witches' Tea Assembly.
Jiang Jiu had only seen her carefully bend and slip inside. A flash of firelight—and she vanished.
Thankfully, enough time had passed since the day she was forced to drink the Witch’s potion. Seeing Lady Witch use magic daily had somewhat numbed the shock.
Earlier, Lilith even mentioned the nation’s push for clean energy—phasing out coal, cutting emissions. So Lady Witch had considered swapping the fireplace for an electric imitation… to “support the cause.”
Too mundane. Jiang Jiu found it surreal.
In her mind, witches were mysterious, elegant, stubbornly old-fashioned. Nine out of ten were technophobes, hopeless with modern gadgets.
She never expected Lilith to be so… down-to-earth.
Then again—maybe it was just her own bias. Back when they dated, Lady Witch always used the latest smartphone. Never slipped. Never revealed a hint of her true identity.
Times change. Even witches adapt. Strive to be good witches of the new era.
Older witches clung to Enchanted Wands. Newer ones might wield advanced magical arms. So swapping the fireplace? Honestly… reasonable.
Jiang Jiu shifted her gaze from the flames, ducked through a hidden passage beside the door, and stepped behind the counter. She looked up at rows of bottles gleaming in the dim light—liqueurs, whiskies, rums, vodkas, gins…
A kaleidoscope of colors, dreamlike and soft.
“You still love drinking this much…”
Her fingers brushed the glass gently. A wry smile tugged unconsciously at her lips.
But she didn’t linger. Shaking her head, she turned, grabbed a cloth, and carefully continued Lilith’s unfinished work.
Firewood crackled softly. Warmth held back the storm’s bite. The bar stayed quiet—only the occasional *clink* of glass.
Lilith’s Bar opened for business, as always.
…
Rain fell harder. Within ten meters, genders blurred; past fifty, humans and beasts melted into shapeless shadows. Farther? Nothing but haze.
(Though truthfully—no shadow at all.)
No sane person braved this weather without urgent cause.
Jiang Xiaobai had no urgency. She wasn’t foolish. Yet there she was—umbrella raised, walking through the downpour.
Wind whipped rain sideways beneath the canopy. Her skirt soaked heavy, clinging to outline slender legs.
Too bad her face was locked in a sullen pout. Not so pretty now.
Her mood was foul.
When luck turns, even cold water chokes you. Poetically: *when it rains, it pours*. Scientifically: Murphy’s Law. Lately? Jiang Xiaobai’s luck had flatlined.
Neighbors’ midnight scratching—like rats gnawing—kept her awake for nights. Nervous exhaustion bled into work: messy files, boss’s scolding.
Last night, silence. *Finally*, rest. Instead—nightmares.
A tide of rats surged. Grass withered in their wake. Filth. Grinding teeth. She ran, heart hammering. Glancing back—countless blood-red eyes flickering in the dark, relentless.
She felt herself unraveling.
Even awake, she swore she heard rustling, squeaking… rats sprinting inside her walls.
*Must be sleep-deprived*, she thought. Dragged herself up at dawn, groggy, called in sick. Needed a psychologist.
Left home to light rain. Ignored it. Then—downpour. Phone flashed red alerts. She’d just exited the subway. Counseling center still far.
Umbrella useless against pea-sized drops. Wind won.
A homebody, office-bound, barely strong—she couldn’t hold on. Time to find shelter.
*Where?*
She lifted her head, bewildered.
A faint mist had risen, swallowing the street.
Jiang Xiaobai wasn’t lost easily… but this fog? One more step, and she’d be turned around.
*Find cover. Now.*
She trudged through deep puddles, skirt held high. Step by step onto the sidewalk. Looked up.
A sign glowed softly through the haze.
“Lilith.”
Just the name. No suffix.
Decor: antique, elegant, Victorian. Beautiful—but no clue what lay inside.
Restaurant? Bookstore? Café?
She pulled out her phone, opened Meituan, searched “Lilith.” Nothing.
Not listed. Zero info.
*Sigh.* Looks high-end. Prices won’t be kind. Wallet, brace yourself.
*Woe… my little money.*
She checked again—all shops closed. Bit her lip, folded the dripping umbrella, and pushed the door.
*Jingle-jingle—*
Crystal wind chime announced her arrival.
One foot in, one foot out. Umbrella dripping. Nowhere to put it. Frozen. Mortified.
*Social death.*
Pained expression. Should she retreat?
Then—a gentle voice beside her:
“Trouble? Worried the wet umbrella will stain the floor? No worries. Leave it to me.”
A lavender-scented breeze.
Jiang Xiaobai turned. A maid stood there—black dress, white apron, hair and eyes dark as midnight. Maid headdress, tassels, white stockings, black Mary Janes.
No movement. No sound. Just a smile—and time seemed to rewind a century.
Or she’d stepped straight from history.
*So… beautiful.*
Jiang Xiaobai stood dumbstruck.
The maid took the umbrella with effortless grace. Folded it precisely, fastened the Velcro, hung it on the rack outside.
“Best to dry it fully later. Today’s too damp—it won’t dry quickly out here. Store it like this for now. You can air it when you’re home, alright?”
Warm. Thoughtful. Not a hint of condescension.
Jiang Xiaobai’s tension melted. Even the nightmare-haze lifted.
Her cheeks warmed. She stole a glance at the maid’s profile. Whispered, “Mm.”
The maid smiled, guided her inside.
“Our shop’s actually a bar—surprising, right? We’ve got a solid liquor selection. And a few lovely signature cocktails… perfect for a sweet girl like you. Care to try?”
Jiang Xiaobai’s hopeful heart sank.
*Oh no.*
This elegant bar. This flawless maid. Prices must be brutal.
*Wallet’s bleeding today!*
She nearly slumped—then the maid’s voice returned, soft:
“Hmm… What flavor do you prefer? Sweet? Sour? Or something bolder, higher proof?”
“Sweet… something sweet.”
The maid paused, smiled. “Then I recommend our signature—Witch’s Night. Not pricey. Eighty per glass.”
Jiang Xiaobai hesitated. *Eighty?* Manageable. She nodded.
“…Okay. One Witch’s Night.”
“Right away. Please wait.”
The maid slid a glass of water across the counter, turned to mix the drink.
Jiang Xiaobai sat quietly, watching.
*So graceful. Maid sisters truly are the best!*
She cheered inwardly.
Too absorbed to notice—ripples stirred in the water glass.
A faint rat-shaped shadow flickered.
[To Be Continued]
