The next day, when Ren Yuanhao woke up, Xiao Yue had already left with everyone. As he sleepily walked to the desk, he saw several letter papers filled with the scent of perfume placed on the table.
Seeing this, Ren Yuanhao was reminded of his high school desk drawer, which he had longed for.
Under normal circumstances, the class beauty's desk drawer would have ten or so letters added each morning. In that era, people's reliance on written communication far exceeded current high-tech social software.
At that time, people believed that writing down what they wanted to say on stationery, and then spraying it with some cheap perfume, held a peculiar magic.
But later, when those young men and women grew up, they suddenly realized a simple truth: it wasn't those things that held the magic, but good looks and money.
However, love at that time was much purer than it is now. It wasn't that a simple "little brother" or "little sister" with a few simpering words counted as a confession.
Back then, people were fond of song lyrics from pirated CDs, and letter papers would carry various beautiful and subtle expressions. At the end of the letters, a popular song lyric was usually added as a conclusion.
Sometimes, Ren Yuanhao felt it was like a closing argument in a trial, but success or failure never came from flowery prose winning a heart.
Perhaps it was a case of evoking memories, but Ren Yuanhao suddenly became extremely dejected.
In his time, he never dared to hope for dazzling letters in his desk drawer. He was so ordinary that he even hated himself, making him hard to find in a crowd. Coupled with his origin from a small mountain village, inferiority was ingrained.
Those rosy memories always belonged to those with radiant appearances.
But now it was different. He had become that universally loved, flower-charming Casanova. However, even if you were great, could you summon back those who had fallen like stars?
Ren Yuanhao smiled bitterly, like drinking wine – only the drinker knows its warmth or coldness.
He put away the stationery and looked out the window. The weather was still gloomy, like an evil spirit descending in a horror movie. The shop didn't seem to be doing much business due to a light rain. The smoke rising slowly from the chimney was as dense as cotton candy. The landlady, carrying a pile of horse feed, was carefully tending to his Fine-bred horse.
The horse didn't seem excited by the feed, listlessly swaying its tail, its coat shining as if it were a polished sword.
Ren Yuanhao paced outside. Just as the owner was carrying out some freshly cooked meat pies and mare's milk, he almost collided with him.
"Oh, has this gentleman finally woken up? I presume you must be hungry?"
Ren Yuanhao forced a faint smile. "Boss, thank you. I wanted to ask when my friends left?"
The owner replied without thinking, "They left early this morning and said not to wake you."
"Alright, boss, thank you. I'm leaving today as well. Please take this money."
As Ren Yuanhao was pulling out a few thousand yuan, a series of hurried hoofbeats suddenly sounded from not far away!
Upon hearing the hoofbeats, the owner frowned slightly, quickly pushed Ren Yuanhao and the money back inside the door, and said tremblingly, with a look of panic, "Sir, don't flash your wealth. Hurry inside and find a place to hide. These people are unreasonable. If they find your belongings, I fear..."
"Such things still happen these days?"
"It can't be helped. We live on the edge of the desert and the city, so there are rules we must follow. We pay protection fees, and we'll be fine. You should hide yourself well."
As soon as he finished speaking, the owner swiftly pulled the door shut, adjusted his posture and facial expression, and quickly moved away from the house.
Just as they reached the courtyard with fine sand, before the people arrived, the dust came. Those following the swirling dust, each riding a tall horse, poured into the courtyard.
"My lords, you've come quite early this year. Have you had lunch? I still have plenty of meat pies and mare's milk here. Please make do with what I have?"
The owner nervously carried the meat pies and mare's milk to the horse of the person in the lead.
The man seated on the horse had a face full of traces left by the wind and sand. He had a cloth wrapped around his head, and his cold, sharp eyes were like a gleaming knife, piercing the owner's heart.
"Oh, it seems business has been good lately, making so many meat pies?" Before the man finished speaking, he immediately drew a curved saber from the side of his horse's neck and placed it against the owner's throat.
The owner's legs trembled with fear, and his voice began to shake. "My lord, please calm your anger. I don't know how I offended you. Please enlighten me!"
"Go, quickly call out those guests who are staying here. I won't trouble you." The leader tore off his headscarf, revealing an extremely exaggerated scar across his forehead, almost spanning the entire brow!
Seeing the scar and the twenty beast teeth necklace around the leader's neck, the owner's heart pounded. His legs weakened, and he knelt on the ground with a thud.
It was evident that he knew what the necklace represented and what the scar on his forehead meant.
In the desert, plunderers would carve a scar on their forehead. The fiercer and more capable the man, the more exaggerated and terrifying the scar. However, plunderers generally did not trouble merchants near cities, collecting a certain amount of fees annually as protection.
But these people were aggressive. Judging by the condition of their horses' hooves and the dust on their bodies, it was clear that these plunderers had been galloping for a long time. Moreover, the horses were panting heavily, further proving the owner's assumption.
Therefore, this group either encountered some disaster, or they were pursuing someone important, or some goods.
"My lord, there have been almost no guests in my shop recently. I was originally going to freeze these meat pies for emergencies, so where would I find guests to call out for you?"
As soon as the owner finished speaking, the plunderer, not foolish, looked up. Several fine horses were eating fodder, including a Fine-bred horse, its head held high arrogantly, snorting.
"Is that so? Then tell me, what about those horses, especially that Fine-bred horse? With your financial resources, can you afford to keep it?"
As the plunderer spoke, his cold saber had already cut into the skin of the owner's neck!
At this moment, the landlady abandoned the fodder and grabbed a chopping knife, ready to fight the plunderer!
Unexpectedly, the leader of the plunderers merely raised his horse's hoof and swung his saber upwards, knocking the landlady's knife away.
"If you don't want to die, quickly make those scoundrels come out. As long as they leave their money, I promise not to take their lives."