Chapter Fifty-Nine: Strolling Through the Night Market

As night began to fall, Qianyin realized she had never visited this side of the night market before. She imagined it must be quite luxurious. She exchanged a glance with Molan, and the two of them headed out together. Only then did they discover the two men quietly waiting at the door.

“What a coincidence.” The four of them spoke these words in unison, then looked at each other in surprise. Had they been together so long that even their comments were in perfect sync?

“We missed out on the night market last time. Let’s go tonight, and maybe have a drink while we’re at it. I haven’t had a drink in ages,” Qianyin said. Her ears flushed red, a clear sign she was lying. She couldn’t hold her liquor at all—how could she possibly enjoy drinking?

Molan knew Qianyin had only said this out of embarrassment, but chose not to expose her. Instead, she nodded, took Qianyin’s hand, and led the way. Lengxue, ever considerate of Qianyin’s feelings, also let it slide and followed behind. What could Anfeng say? With these three, his words would likely fall on deaf ears.

But Anfeng knew that tonight, the two of them would surely explain themselves: Why become assassins? Why not choose another path? Back then, anyone could become a police officer—even those who hadn’t graduated from the academy. With their skills, they could have been deputy captains, perhaps even full captains. Why hadn’t they seized that chance?

Were the people they killed as assassins not pitiable?

Did their hearts not ache when taking a life?

These questions weighed heavily on Anfeng’s mind as he clutched the emerald four-leaf clover in his hand, his chest tight with pain. Molan had transferred that precious stone to him.

Qianyin and Lengxue had no objections; they weren’t in any hurry to carry it themselves.

The night market here was indeed opulent. Lights shone from every corner, casting a kaleidoscope of colors, and many trees were adorned with strings of colored lights. Even the street lamps were shaped like gourds.

Numerous women danced to lively music along the roadside, their spirits lifted after a long day’s work. The cheerful melodies seemed to wash away fatigue, instantly brightening everyone’s mood.

Many of the women held tiny infants in their arms, painting a touching scene of warmth and contentment.

The four of them stopped to watch. Besides the dancers, there were plenty of onlookers just like them. Some, drawn by interest, joined the dance, learning the steps as they went.

“Why don’t you give it a try?” Qianyin nudged Molan. Qianyin was clearly enjoying the spectacle, thinking the dance seemed easy to learn and pleasant to watch.

Molan, a bit embarrassed, was pushed into the group. But she quickly picked up the moves. Dressed in simple pants and a plain top, she didn’t stand out—except for her striking beauty.

Soon, many spectators took notice of Molan. Her movements, though precise, were a bit stiff, making her seem even more conspicuous. Some began snapping photos and pointing her out.

“Look, there’s a pretty young lady dancing over there!”

“Really? Where?”

“Oh, I see her now. She’s gorgeous.”

Hearing these whispers, Molan’s ears turned pink, but she kept dancing.

Anfeng was far from pleased. Seeing the one he loved treated like a spectacle made him deeply uncomfortable.

Qianyin, at first, was cheering excitedly from the sidelines. But when Lengxue gave her a nudge, she noticed the dark expression on Anfeng’s face and realized her actions might be troubling him. She quickly went over, intending to pull Molan out of the crowd.

To her surprise, Lengxue also joined the dancers, causing Qianyin to press her lips together, trying not to laugh.

When Molan saw Lengxue—a man—joining in, she realized that dancing in public wasn’t embarrassing at all.

Observing Lengxue’s actions, Anfeng felt he could never set aside his pride to do the same, so he stood stiffly, not moving an inch.

Molan, Lengxue, and Qianyin soon drew all eyes, and the crowd burst into applause. The other women were puzzled—why was the audience so enthusiastic tonight?

After one song ended, another began. Anfeng raised an eyebrow. They’d been dancing for half an hour already. Did they really find such ordinary pleasures fulfilling?

None of them were born for an ordinary fate—why bother with such trivialities? Wasn’t their time far too valuable to be spent on leisure rather than learning or working?

As soon as the trio finished the song, their first instinct was to turn and look at Anfeng. Seeing that his expression hadn’t softened, they stopped and walked over to him, curiosity in their eyes.

Anfeng felt their gazes were anything but friendly and immediately turned to walk down another street. Light smoke drifted in the air, carrying delicious aromas—clearly the food stalls were nearby.

Molan and Qianyin exchanged baffled looks, unable to fathom why this man was so peculiar, and followed after him.

Lengxue, of course, understood that Anfeng simply couldn’t let go of his pride. But as for a woman as clueless as Qianyin, Lengxue thought if he didn’t set aside his own pride, he and Qianyin would never have a chance together in this lifetime.

Molan seemed to understand love better than Qianyin. After all, there was still a father in her family. He had never remarried, a testament to the deep love he had for Molan’s mother—a quality all men could learn from.

The street was filled with tantalizing scents from every kind of snack, enough to make anyone’s mouth water three times over.

Right on cue, Molan and Qianyin’s stomachs rumbled audibly.

Lengxue and Anfeng stifled their laughter and found a place with an appealing name to sit—the place specialized in porridge, though it offered a wide range of snacks. It was perfect for people like them who rarely went out for late-night bites.

“Boss!” Qianyin called out, grabbing a menu along with Molan and flipping through it, ready to order a feast. The two men didn’t even look at the menu, content to let the women choose—whatever they ordered, the men would eat.

To their surprise, the owner was a woman, and all the staff were young girls as well. They were quite pretty, though their makeup was heavy, as if trying too hard. The servers seemed very young, probably part-timers; their makeup too was thick and unnatural.

“What would you like to order?” the owner asked.

“We’ll take one of everything on this half of the menu. And bring us your best beer—four bottles to start,” Qianyin declared boldly, pointing to half the menu and ordering with the confidence of a tycoon.

The proprietress was overjoyed, replying with a sultry, “Certainly, I’ll get it ready right away.”

Only then did the two men pick up the other menus and realize that Qianyin’s “half the menu” included fifty or sixty snacks, with just the porridge section alone offering seven varieties. But if they only ordered one of each, everyone could sample a bit of everything.

Still, there was no way they could finish it all. The men swallowed hard. Did these women really eat so much? Could they even afford to feed them?