Later, An Ning naturally became a regular at the bar.
Sometimes she’d slip into a maid outfit and help Jiang Jiu part-time. But more often, she’d appear alone in the quiet hours after closing—battered and bruised, silently sipping whiskey at the counter.
Whenever this happened, Jiang Jiu would stand behind the bar with her, and they’d chat idly about everything: life, dreams, interdimensional travels… the weather, how the revenge plan was progressing, what monster she’d slain today and how it felt, whether to try the new Japanese spot down the street.
In short, they talked about all sorts of things.
Days drifted by like plain water—calm, unnoticed. Yet An Ning grew quieter, her aura colder, her visits increasingly sparse.
Fresh blood on one’s hands brings nightmares, panic. But habit numbs you. Lives stop mattering. Truly, habit is the world’s cruelest force.
In just a month, An Ning changed. Expressionless. Efficient. Concise. Always rushing in and out.
The little princess had become a queen.
Only one thing remained unchanged: the silent understanding between her and Jiang Jiu.
Rain or shine, wounded or not, she’d show up without fail every three days max—just to let Jiang Jiu know she was still alive. No need to worry.
Until today. The eve of this month’s Witch’s Night.
The bar was closed. After dusk, the Silent Witch would sing her lullaby, pulling the world into her dream. Ordinary folk would sleep; monsters dared not stir. No customers would come.
The usually bustling space now lay empty and still—only An Ning and the maid inside.
An Ning drank. The maid wiped glasses. Heads down. Silent. Focused.
Dim lights. Flickering candles. A soft violin melody. Incense and lavender scenting the air. A water-filled bottle on the table held a quietly blooming lily.
Peaceful.
Yet An Ning’s body stayed tense.
After a long silence, she downed half a bottle of whiskey and finally spoke:
“I’m taking my revenge tonight.”
The maid finished wiping, turned, grabbed a shaker, jigger, and base spirits. Nodding casually, she said:
“Mm. Be careful.”
“…”
An Ning froze, words stuck in her throat.
A delicate silence settled again.
Feeling defeated, she poured another drink and gulped it down.
Lost.
What now?
She’d hunted monsters daily—mastered swordplay, devised countless tactics, nearly died multiple times. Yet talking to the maid felt infinitely harder.
She knew how to slaughter monsters cleanly: sever nerves, slice flesh, devour power, shatter minds.
But she couldn’t read the maid’s thoughts. Like advanced calculus—some things just won’t click, no matter how hard you try.
Her fingers tightened around the glass.
She wrestled with phrasing… then gave up.
Poetic words weren’t for her. She wasn’t an ordinary girl. She was a monster. An avenger drowning in blood and vengeance.
So she chose her way.
An Ning lifted her gaze.
“I…”
Interrupted.
The maid had already slid a cocktail toward her—coaster beneath, smile warm.
“Made this just for you. Try it?”
“…”
An Ning swallowed her words, sipped.
Sweet. Not cloying. A hint of cream. Delicious.
“This cocktail’s yours,” the maid said gently. “No name yet. Will you name it?”
An Ning looked up—met the maid’s smiling eyes. Their gazes tangled… then one flinched away like a shy mimosa.
“Call it… An Ning.”
“An Ning? A lovely name.” The maid nodded. “I’ve crafted another too—but we’re out of base spirits. They arrive tomorrow.”
She winked.
“So… Miss An Ning. Will you come tomorrow at this time to taste it?”
Plans shattered. Words unsaid.
An Ning should’ve felt awkward. Instead—peace.
“Yes.” She nodded earnestly. “See you then.”
“Mm. See you then.”
…
An Ning left.
Jiang Jiu watched her go. A silly tune popped into her head: *I am the queen, radiating confidence*.
…Actually, it fit.
She shook her head, clearing the thought—
Because Lady Witch was stepping out of the fireplace.
She walked slowly to the counter but chose a shadowed corner, not An Ning’s usual seat.
Hostility hung in the air.
Lady Witch fixed Jiang Jiu with a cold, blank stare.
“Impressive, Miss Heartbreaker. Adapted so fast… now deceiving innocent girls in *my* bar?”
“If you don’t like her, why give hope? If you’ll abandon her, why let her near?”
“The cruelest thing is fleeting hope. You know that, don’t you?”
Time with Jiang Jiu had sharpened Lady Witch’s tongue—sarcasm, barbs.
But Jiang Jiu’s armor held. Calmly, she slid a Witch’s Night toward her.
“I need a favor, Lilith.”
“That’s how you ask?”
“Master.” Jiang Jiu lifted her skirt hem, bowed deeply, blinked innocently. “*Please*, Master… I’ll do anything.”
“…”
Lady Witch’s expression tightened. She sipped her drink, muttered:
“Can’t you keep *any* dignity, Jiang Jiu?”
“If dignity gets your ‘yes’? Sure. I’ll be dignified.”
“…”
Lady Witch went numb. No point arguing.
“Speak. What do you want?”
“To grow stronger.”
“Aren’t you studying magic?”
“Too slow. No progress.”
“Witchcraft can’t be rushed. Knowledge is power *and* curse. Haste breeds chaos.”
“No other way?”
“…”
Silence stretched.
Jiang Jiu nodded knowingly. “So… there *is* another way.”
Lady Witch didn’t deny it. Stared straight into her eyes.
“Yes. But why should I tell you?”
“You think I don’t know why you’re learning magic—why you’re asking *now*—”
“Never mind.” Lady Witch shook her head. After a pause: “Why go this far?”
Jiang Jiu smiled. “Wrongdoings need amends. Even if I’ll still be hated after.”
“And me?” Lady Witch bit her lip, fingers twitching near her Enchanted Wand. “No guilt?”
“That’s what I’m doing *now*.”
“…”
Lady Witch fell silent. Drank the rest of her Witch’s Night in one gulp.
“I’ll help you. But answer one question.”
Jiang Jiu nodded, as if expecting it. “Of course. It’s a deal. Even if it were a command—I’d obey. I’m your property… right, Master?” She added a playful wink.
Lady Witch’s teeth gritted. *Pin her down. Make that stubborn mouth soften. Make her whimper.*
But the three-year term wasn’t up. Even a dragon king’s heir would have to endure it.
She swallowed her fury. Whispered:
“When we were together… did you ever *truly* like me?”
Jiang Jiu’s rare bitter smile surfaced.
“If I say yes… will you believe me?”
Lady Witch froze. Calmed. *People believe what they choose to believe.*
Prejudice is a mountain.
She hesitated. Bit her lip.
Then Jiang Jiu seized her wrist, pressed her palm against her own chest.
Lady Witch stilled.
Jiang Jiu lowered her gaze, lips curving faintly.
“But even if you don’t believe me—I *did* like you.”
In that heartbeat—fierce, real, thrumming under her palm—Lady Witch *knew*.
She truly had.
[To be continued]
