"Why did you run away?"
"As if I were going to shoot you with a gun,"
"When in fact, I just wanted to pat your head,"
"And then let you go."
This is a poem the hunter wrote to the deer, holding a gun to the prey and saying, "Don't be afraid, I won't harm you." What will the prey do in response?
AE seemed to have great patience, watching the performance in front of him. He even casually lit a cigarette, but his eyes were extremely indifferent, hidden with the natural instincts of a hunter as he observed everything before him, filled with impatience. He had invited Arabella to come, but she hadn't arrived. He wanted to welcome her personally but felt it would be too deliberate. The beautiful women and fine wine didn't stir his interest, and only the sound of his subordinates reporting could excite him a little.
After waiting for a long time, the dance ended, the wine was finished, but the person was still nowhere to be found. AE was furious, his teeth gritting in frustration. The smoke rising from his cigarette completely blurred his already hideous mask. He sat alone for a while before extinguishing the cigarette. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he felt as if his entire body had been energized, as though he had just opened his meridians. He soared up the staircase, using the handrail to propel himself upwards. In just a few strides, he leapt from the second floor directly to the fourth. The vigilant subordinates around him, seeing their boss wearing a mask that hid his expression, yet moving with the agility of a flying rocket, running up the walls and across the rooftops, couldn't help but stand there, stunned.
He ascended directly to the fourth floor, and with pinpoint accuracy, AE burst into the room at the end of the corridor. Sure enough, Arabella was sitting by the window, her legs casually spread apart, gently swinging her feet. The blazing sun cast a golden glow, warming her skin, and even someone like Arabella, bathed in sunlight, exuded an air of peaceful tranquility.
Hearing AE enter the room, Arabella smiled and waved at him, and he immediately vanished from the fourth-floor window. AE was momentarily stunned, then chuckled softly, but didn't rush to follow Arabella. Instead, he went back to his room, changed into simple casual clothes, and easily bypassed all the guards to leave the estate. As expected, Arabella was squatting in the flowerbeds not far from the estate. When AE approached, she didn't acknowledge him, continuing to fiddle with the weeds on the ground.
"Julius, you are coming."
Arabella turned around. The man standing before her wore a beige cardigan, light white casual pants, and matching sports shoes. His handsome features were complemented by a relaxed, gentle smile, reminding her of the elegant Julius she had first met. He thought he had figured out Arabella's intentions, so he dressed modestly, planning for a low-key outing. However, when Arabella merely glanced at him, she pointed at him and flashed an exaggerated, trembling smile. That smile took Julius by surprise. When she smiled, she was far more intimidating than when she wore a serious face. He lowered his head and scrutinized his outfit, almost wanting to slap himself.
He had been so excited about the idea of going out with Arabella that he had forgotten about the past when he had pretended to be an innocent, naive fool to deceive her. Though Arabella hadn't fully believed him back then, she had only used him. But now, this outfit he had chosen made him look loathsome. Julius felt a rare sense of turmoil in his heart. He opened his mouth, intending to explain, "I thought you wanted a low-key outing—" but stopped himself quickly, realizing he had no need to explain himself to Arabella. What did it matter to him? He wasn't afraid of her.
While Julius was still lost in a thousand thoughts, Arabella had already wiped away her exaggerated smile, leaving only the lingering trace of a fake, calculated grin at the corners of her lips. Julius watched it all, feeling a sharp discomfort in his chest. With a snort of irritation, he asked, "I asked you to come over to discuss how you're handling that batch of goods, not to have me dragged out here for this."
"I'm craving some local delicacies from Jingle, and it's convenient to have your man with me." Arabella covered her stomach and replied softly, as if it were the most natural thing.
Julius was momentarily stunned. Clearly, Arabella was still wearing that irritating fake smile, yet the subtle hint of being needed in her tone made his previously agitated mood suddenly calm. It was a strange feeling. Julius furrowed his brow in confusion, reaching a hand to rub his chest, softening his expression as he spoke: "Now that you mention it, I'm craving it too. Let's eat while we talk."
This time, as they walked down the street, Arabella wore the official thin veil designated for foreign women and kept a low profile, following Julius. Though some people glanced at them occasionally, the men in Jingle didn't pay much attention to Arabella, as they were foreigners and accompanied by a man. After walking for a while, Julius reached out and held Arabella's hand, smiling down at her, "The disguise should look a bit more convincing. That way, others will think we're a couple." Arabella looked down at their intertwined hands and casually flexed her fingers, tracing a curve in Julius's palm, almost like the playful scratch of a cat's paw. Julius, smiling, tightened his grip on her hand, and from a distance, they really did look like an ordinary couple.
In fact, Arabella wasn't particularly remarkable. Though she had traveled the world, seen much, and gained a wealth of knowledge, she could hold a conversation if a topic came up. But when you thought back to what she had said, her words were devoid of any personal insight, more like an emotionless encyclopedia. For instance, when Julius and Arabella discussed local specialties of Jingle, Arabella smiled and responded knowledgeably, but each of her sentences lacked any personal perspective. Julius initially listened with great interest, but the more he heard, the more he felt dissatisfied. He decisively cut off her words and said, "Since we're talking about Jingle's cuisine, we must try their signature spicy dishes."
Arabella gave him a glance, simply nodding without expressing any disagreement. Local specialty dishes like these were best enjoyed at small street-side restaurants, so the two of them chose a small, century-old establishment. It was peak dinner time, and the main dining hall was packed, so they settled for a table outside, where the bustling street was full of people coming and going.
Julius looked at the menu the owner handed over, with a mind to tease Arabella. Pointing at the fiery pictures on the menu, he consecutively ordered, "This one, and this one, and that one too. The spiciest you've got." The owner, a portly man in his forties, smiled warmly at the foreign guests, not making things difficult for Arabella despite her being accompanied by a man. Noticing they were foreigners, he kindly reminded them, "Sir, these are stir-fried spicy dishes that even the locals find hard to handle." Julius snorted and glanced over at Arabella, who sat with her veil lifted and composed. He firmly refused, "Thanks, but we came specifically for this."
Since the guests insisted, the owner complied, and when the order was passed to the kitchen, special instructions were added to use Jingle's signature peppers. When the dishes were brought to the table, each plate a fiery red, Julius involuntarily swallowed, feeling the heat just by looking. He sneaked a glance at Arabella, who, having removed her veil to eat, had already picked up her fork and was chewing on a piece of spicy beef. Observing her reaction closely, she seemed to enjoy it, showing no signs of distress.
"Aren't you feeling the spicy?"
Arabella was quite the meat lover. After chewing a few times, she swallowed and praised, "It tastes great."
Julius, still doubtful, watched as Arabella took a few more bites from the other dishes. She ate without showing any reaction. His furrowed brows relaxed, and he quickly picked up a few pieces of stir-fried meat and put them into his mouth. The moment he did, he regretted it. He exhaled quietly, feeling as though he was on fire. The heat spread from his tongue and shot all the way down his throat, numbing his stomach and intestines.
What the hell? This isn't spicy? It's practically fire!
Julius wiped his forehead, breaking into a cold sweat. He couldn't help but open his mouth, slightly sticking out his tongue, and asked, "You really don't feel it spicy?"
Arabella leisurely poured herself a cup of tea and sipped it slowly. After finishing her cup, she raised her eyes and looked at Julius, answering, "I lied to you." Only then did Julius notice that her eyes were slightly red. Her fair skin made the redness around her mouth even more apparent, clearly a sign of having eaten something too spicy.
"Hey—Arabella, you know how to mess with people too?" Julius said, almost laughing in disbelief. He quickly poured himself a glass of ice water and drank it down. At first, it felt refreshing, but soon the cold water clashed with the lingering heat in his mouth, creating a sensation that felt like both fire and ice at once. Julius gasped, then raised his finger in admiration. "You really are something. You can eat something this spicy without even flinching."
Arabella glanced at Julius's cup, then at her own, and calmly replied, "I'm drinking warm water. You'd better be careful. You might get diarrhea later."
Instinctively, Julius reached out and touched the teapot near him, then did the same with Arabella's teapot. Sure enough, one was cold, the other warm. He stared at the large cup of ice water he had just drunk and felt his stomach tighten. It must be his imagination, he thought—everything, including Arabella, who enjoyed playing tricks on him, was all just in his head. He certainly didn't want to get food poisoning from some street food in a foreign country, especially not in front of that insufferable woman, Arabella.
