Chapter 103: The Director's Judgment
As lanterns began to cast their gentle, warm glow across Liyue Harbor, the atmosphere inside the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was anything but tranquil. An air of… accusation, thick and pointed, had settled in the main hall.
Director Hu Tao stood with her hands planted firmly on her hips, her distinctive plum blossom pupils wide and round. She faced her guest consultant, who had been missing for two days, and the look on her youthful face was a clear declaration: This Director is very angry, and the consequences will be severe.
"Two whole days! Forty-eight hours! I haven't seen so much as a shadow of you!" Hu Tao held up two fingers and waved them dramatically in front of Zhongli's face, her voice a rollercoaster of indignation.
"As for the bills? Not a single one has come back, which is unmatched! This, well…" Her tone suddenly shifted, melting into a sly expression that said, 'You know what's good for you.'
"This Director is very pleased, and you deserve a verbal commendation!" she announced, nodding with grave seriousness.
Then, just as quickly, her tone snapped back. Her finger was now almost poking Zhongli's nose. "But! Guest consultant! Disappearing without a word for two whole days! This Director does not like that one bit! Who were you trying to worry to death?"
"Ah? What if you were carried off by some evil spirit, or fell into a mountain gully? Where would I go to fish you out? Do we want the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's reputation or not?"
Throughout this rapid-fire tirade, Zhongli remained perfectly composed in his chair. His golden eyes, as still and deep as an ancient well, watched his director's performance. He merely picked up the teacup beside him and gently blew on the surface, his movements as elegant and steady as ever. He had long grown accustomed to Hu Tao's unique way of showing concern.
Sitting beside Zhongli, a burly young man with a mischievous glint in his eyes watched the scene unfold with great interest. A smile played on his lips; he was clearly enjoying the show.
He even mimicked Hu Tao's posture, nodding vigorously and adding fuel to the fire at the perfect moment. "Director Hu is absolutely right! Zhongli's actions these past two days were indeed very inconsiderate. And besides, how can one go back on a promise?"
He deliberately emphasized the words "a promise," his gaze sweeping meaningfully over Zhongli—a clear jab about the identical motorcycle he had been promised, which had yet to even show a shadow of its existence.
Hearing this, Hu Tao immediately felt that this newly acquainted "Brother Daiyuan" was a rare kindred spirit.
She clapped her hands, giving Daiyuan a look of deep appreciation, as if to say, 'Great minds think alike.' Then she turned back to Zhongli, her tone now dripping with theatrical heartbreak.
"Guest consultant! Listen! Even Brother Daiyuan can't stand it! How sensible he is! And look at you! Always appearing and disappearing like a phantom, running off without a word! Please, learn from him! Can you be a bit more steady?"
She articulated the word "steady" with deliberate, exaggerated clarity. Coming from her, with her still-childish face trying to project an air of authority, the contrast was utterly striking.
Zhongli set down his teacup. His gaze lingered on Daiyuan's face for a moment, a barely perceptible hint of inquiry in his eyes. "Daiyuan?"
A flicker of understanding immediately crossed his features. It seemed his old friend had given himself a new name to adapt to life in Liyue Harbor.
'Daiyuan… It's quite fitting,'he sighed inwardly, looking at the man who was now enthusiastically playing along with Hu Tao, a far cry from the mountain-steady, impressive Dragon King he remembered.'With the erosion gone, his nature has returned to its original simplicity… This price is quite unique, indeed.' In that moment, Zhongli felt that this slightly childish Daiyuan was far more vibrant than the Dragon King who had been burdened by a heavy past for so long.
"Guest—con—sultant—!"
Hu Tao saw that Zhongli was not only failing to reflect on his actions but was now staring blankly at Daiyuan. Her anger flared anew. She stomped her small foot, and her forced "steadiness" instantly crumbled.
"Are you even listening to what I'm saying?! You think you can just zone out and get away with it?"
Hu Tao's eyes rolled, and a very "kind" smile, tinged with a heavy dose of mischief, suddenly bloomed on her face.
She scurried away, returning a moment later holding a plate.
On the plate, several crowded "little ghosts" grinned up at Zhongli, their smiles unnervingly wide. A faint, cute ghostly silhouette seemed to float just above the dish. This was one of Hu Tao's proud creations—Ghostly March. Its adorable appearance was more than enough to deceive any unsuspecting diner.
"Here, guest consultant," Hu Tao said, placing the plate on the table in front of Zhongli. Her tone was now gentle and considerate. "You must be exhausted after running around for two days, right? Come, come, try the Ghostly March I personally made to replenish your energy! This is a special 'reward' I saved just for you!"
The plate of Ghostly March emitted an indescribable, subtle aroma—a mix of strange spices and unknown substances that defied categorization.
Zhongli's gaze fell upon those "adorable" round-headed ghosts, and for the first time, a rare, extremely subtle crack appeared in his unflappable composure. He knew all too well the power of this "reward." It was by no means a culinary delight, but rather a complete subversion and destruction of one's sensory perception.
This was, quite clearly, a blatant "punishment."
"Cough… Thank you for your kind intentions, Director." Zhongli subtly leaned back in his chair, creating a slight distance from the plate of what could only be described as a biological weapon. "I am… not yet hungry at the moment."
Daiyuan, however, was watching with sparkling eyes. His appetite had been thoroughly spoiled a few days prior by one of Xiangling's feasts, a meal perfect in color, aroma, and taste. Now, seeing this uniquely shaped plate of crowded little things, he found them novel and cute, completely oblivious to the killing intent they contained.
He even sniffed the air. While he didn't smell an enticing aroma, he found it fascinating. "Director Hu's craftsmanship is truly unique," he said with a hint of eagerness. "This dish… its shape is very endearing. I wonder what it tastes like? I'm rather curious."
Upon hearing this, Zhongli shot a quick glance at Daiyuan from the corner of his eye. His gaze contained an extremely complex warning: 'Old friend, cherish your taste buds. Stay away from that.'
While Hu Tao's attention was drawn by Daiyuan's curiosity, Zhongli immediately stood up. He moved with practiced grace to a nearby tea table and began the ritual: fetching water, warming the pot, measuring the leaves, brewing the tea… His actions were elegant and unhurried, as if he were performing a sacred ceremony.
The fragrant steam of fine tea quickly permeated the parlor, diluting the invisible pressure emanating from the Ghostly March.
"Director, please calm your anger." Zhongli placed a cup of clear, brightly colored tea in front of Hu Tao, his voice steady and soothing. "I did not intend to lose contact; it was truly due to unforeseen circumstances. Now that I have returned, I will naturally report my whereabouts for the past two days to you."
"Unforeseen circumstances? What kind of circumstances could make you disappear for two days?" Hu Tao eyed him suspiciously, clearly unconvinced.
Zhongli pondered for a moment. Regarding the existence of the chat group, his original intention was to mention it to Hu Tao only when its functions were more complete and it could stably accept new members.
But now, facing his director's questioning—a potent mix of concern and anger—and with Daiyuan enjoying the show from the sidelines, he felt it was fine to be honest. He had faith in Hu Tao's ability to accept the truth.
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