Chapter Twenty-One: The Extraordinary "Glow"

Li’s eyes widened slightly, the black in the boy’s eyes shining with rare beauty. “...Really!?” he exclaimed.

Li Le shot him a sidelong glance and nodded condescendingly. “Could I possibly be lying?” she retorted.

As she spoke, she ‘inadvertently’ gave her cloak a little shake, causing several flashes of silver light to nearly dazzle Li’s eyes.

“...Sister...Sister...” The boy, his arms full of items, gazed at Li Le with sparkling eyes, as if that silver glow had left him momentarily blinded.

Li Le arched an eyebrow and smiled, then casually fished two silver coins from her sleeve and stuffed them into Li’s hands with a flourish. “Take these, spend them as you wish! Consider it pocket money from your sister!”

Li had never witnessed such extravagance. He fumbled to receive the coins, their silvery sheen still gleaming in his palm, and stared at Li Le as if she were glowing with unprecedented brilliance.

Of course, in modern terms, this was what one would call the “rich filter.”

Simply put, the child was stunned by Li Le’s generosity with a few silver coins.

“...Sister...is this really alright?...You truly mean to give me these coins?” Li clutched the silver tightly, his eyes full of sincerity and uncertainty as he looked at her, as if he would return them without protest should she so much as hint.

At that moment, Li Le was tilting her head, engrossed in the variety of goods on the street. At Li’s question, she waved a hand and gave him an absent-minded glance, her tone generous: “Li, don’t bother your sister. If there’s something you want, pick it out yourself... Don’t worry about saving money for me—take whatever catches your eye. If it’s not enough, come ask me for more...”

What sort of person was Li Le? She didn’t even spare a thought for such a trivial amount of money.

If you called her stingy, she could hand over silver coins without batting an eye.

Even in her past life, she was a person who would spend money like water, the kind who swept through shopping malls without a second thought or hesitation, always ready to buy out an entire store. Had she been born into an ordinary family, such spending would have been unsustainable. But fortunately, in her past life, her father—talented in business and doting on his only daughter—had always protected her as one would their own eyes, never letting her lack for anything. This upbringing left Li Le with little concept of money’s value.

But if you called her generous, that wasn’t quite right either. When bargaining with the old man at the Barter Hall, she was a force to be reckoned with, haggling over every copper coin—so much so that even the miser Grandet would have to admit defeat.

Her motto in her past life was simple: Save where you should, spend where you must, and ride your bicycle to the bar.

Li couldn’t see his sister’s face beneath the gray hood, but he could hear the indifference in her tone. He swallowed the words on his lips, his dark eyes turning mischievously. “Thank you, Sister!” he said, though in his heart he resolved to hunt a third-tier or higher mist beast for her, pull its teeth, and polish the most beautiful bone necklace for her!

...

Li Le and Li strolled through the market, buying this and that as they went: animal skins inscribed with information about various species, a sticky resin, bone needles, and some trinkets that Li fancied.

Of course, the sellers had already bundled these things up, and Li carried them all with delight, trailing after Li Le like a little shadow.

As they walked, Li Le would pause to examine anything that piqued her interest, never hesitating to hand over coins and pass the purchases to Li, feeling no guilt at all about making a child her porter.

Before they knew it, the two had wandered into another section of the market that Li had mentioned.

“Squeak—squeak-squeak—”

“Squeak-squeak—squeak—”

...

Li Le’s ears twitched at the familiar sound. She turned to see a large cage, inside of which lay seven or eight little gray balls.

These little creatures were quite different from the one snoozing in her pocket—clearly much smaller, their silvery light flickering faintly as they lay listlessly in the cage. The voice Li Le had just heard came from one of them.

All of them were timid; even the footsteps of passersby would make them tremble and curl into tight balls.

Without a doubt, they were “Fireflies”—kin to the little one in Li Le’s pocket.

Li Le’s spree through the market had already drawn quite a bit of attention, and the person selling “Fireflies” was among those watching her.

Now, seeing her gaze settle on the cage, the seller dared not hesitate and quickly called out eagerly, “Would you like to take a look, miss? These are rare Fireflies—they glow at night and are extremely hardy, capable of surviving a long time without feeding!”

“At this moment, a single one can be yours for only fifty copper coins...”

Li Le patted her pocket and felt the fine, downy fur in her palm. She stepped closer to the stall, pointed to the cage, and asked, “May I see one up close?”

Li dumped his burdens on the ground and sighed with relief. Seeing his sister’s interest in one of those otherwise useless little pets, he said nothing. In the past, he would have tried to dissuade her, but now, knowing how much money she had, buying a pet... didn’t seem like such a big deal.

After all, seeing her buy so much on this trip, he was already more than a little numb.

“If you’d like to see one, of course!” the seller replied, opening the cage and gingerly selecting the healthiest-looking Firefly, which he offered to Li Le with great care.

He wasn’t the least bit afraid of Li Le running off with it—no one dared cause trouble in this marketplace.

Li Le had no such intentions, anyway. She simply examined the little Firefly in her palm: listless, shivering, curled tightly into itself, its gray fur dull and its tiny paws covering its eyes—barely half the size of the one in her pocket.

Most importantly, she could hear nothing in its cries—no meaning, no language, merely a reflex. In this, it was on a completely different plane from the intelligent little creature she carried with her.

It hardly seemed like the same species at all.

After a moment, Li Le set the Firefly back down, not outright refusing but letting her clear voice ring out from beneath her hood: “This Firefly is quite fine, but it lacks spirit. Next time I’ll have another look.”

At first, the seller looked angry as Li Le and her companion stood to leave, but hearing her words, he paused, his irritation forgotten, and hurriedly smiled:

“Miss, I heard you. Next time you’re at the market, just come by my stall...”