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ArabicArknights: The Holy Son's Leisurely Life — Chapter 17
Chapter 17: Don’t Bully a Friend’s Wife
“Old Lin, I’ll be taking my leave now.”
Having said his piece and delivered his report regarding Reunion, Lucian politely bid farewell to the Rat King of Lungmen. He had promised Crownslayer that he would let them go, and delaying the report of their smuggling route until midnight of the following day was already an act of extreme, borderline-foolish benevolence.
As for how Old Lin would choose to deal with Reunion from here on out, that was no longer Lucian’s concern. He fully trusted that the elderly Zalak, who had guarded the Slums in the shadows for decades, wouldn’t make things unnecessarily difficult for the Infected.
“I’m truly sorry for disturbing you so late in the night, Old Lin,” Lucian added with a respectful nod. “Next time I visit, I’ll be sure to bring some decent pastries.”
“Hahaha, no, no, think nothing of it.” Old Lin’s eyes crinkled into thin, sly slits as he laughed, his cane tapping lightly against the floorboards. “Your Uncle Lin and my entire family are strictly nocturnal creatures. There is no such thing as disturbing us at this hour. On the contrary, the night is when we thrive! The later it gets, the more energetic we become. Why, when you and Yuxia get married in the future, I’m sure your nights will be wonderfully lively as well!”
“Uh… right.” Lucian meekly echoed the sentiment, though a visible twitch tugged at the corner of his eye.
Logically speaking, Old Lin was undeniably a doting, overprotective father to his only daughter. Yet, the way he so actively tried to peddle her off made one deeply suspicious that there was some shady, ulterior motive at play.
There was an old saying that the more a mother-in-law looked at her son-in-law, the more she liked him. But shouldn’t a father-in-law grow increasingly furious the more he looked at the man trying to steal his precious daughter? How was this old rat’s favorability rating so terrifyingly high?
If Lucian accidentally let his guard down and got tricked by this old fox—ah, wait, old mouse—into agreeing to some terrible arranged marriage, it would be an absolute disaster. Exusiai would undoubtedly snap and transform into a literal Angel of Death.
Not wanting to risk his life any further, Lucian quickly offered his final goodbyes. The overly enthusiastic Old Lin personally escorted him all the way to the stairwell before finally turning back.
Lucian breathed a heavy sigh of relief, beginning his descent down the six-story tenement building. There was no elevator, of course.
And then, naturally, things took a turn.
This dilapidated old building didn’t just lack an elevator; it completely lacked functioning lights. The bulbs in the stairwell had likely been stolen by scavengers centuries ago. Fortunately, Sankta came equipped with their own built-in fluorescent lighting.
Thanks to the soft, holy luminescence radiating from the halo above his head, Lucian could clearly see the steps immediately in front of him. However, the glare of his own light made the surrounding darkness even more impenetrable—a textbook example of being blinded by the lamp.
As Lucian reached the final landing in this dimly lit, horror-movie-esque stairwell, a voice suddenly drifted out from the pitch-black abyss.
“You’re so slow. Go die.”
“Holy Yanese profanity!” Lucian jumped out of his skin, the former Holy Son so badly startled he nearly went straight up to see God.
He scrambled back two steps, squinting into the gloom. Floating in the absolute darkness were two pink, jewel-like eyes glaring right back at him.
A haughty, slightly nasal, yet undeniably cute voice complained, “Why were you chatting with the old man for so long? It’s disgusting. My feet are sore, and this stairwell is dark and creepy. This is entirely your fault. Pay a fine.”
Lucian stared in utter disbelief. “…Miss Yuxia, aren’t you a Zalak? What kind of mouse is afraid of the dark? Ow, ow, ow, ow! Please spare me, my shoulder is going to pop out of its socket!”
The woman lurking in the shadows had lunged forward, deftly seizing Lucian’s arm. With a swift, fluid motion, she pressed a hand firmly against his shoulder, locking him into a highly practiced, police-style grappling hold.
As she closed the distance, the ambient light from Lucian’s halo finally illuminated her face.
She had light pink hair and matching pink eyes, framing a delicately maintained, flawless face. Her figure was slender, graceful, and perfectly proportioned beneath her stylish clothes. By every metric, she was an absolute beauty.
This was Old Lin’s fiercely doting only daughter, Miss Lin Yuxia—the undisputed princess of the Lungmen underworld, who somehow carried herself with more aristocratic elegance than the actual rich heiress, Swire.
At this moment, her glossy lips were pulled into an unhappy, triangular pout, her eyes narrowed in deep suspicion. “Confess and be granted leniency; resist and face severe punishment. What exactly did you say to the old man? Sneaking into someone’s house in the dead of night… did you come here to propose?”
Lucian felt a headache coming on. “How could that possibly be, Miss Yuxia? Aren’t we on the same side here? No matter how hard Old Lin tries to promote you, I swear on my life I don’t have the slightest bit of interest.”
“Huh?” Miss Yuxia’s delicate brows snapped together in fierce indignation. “Why are you making it sound like I’m some cheap cabbage being haggled over at a wet market? I’ll kill you, you know?”
Her joint-lock instantly tightened. The brutal efficiency of this gang princess’s grappling technique was somehow even better than that of a legitimate L.G.D. officer like Swire, forcing Lucian to frantically tap out and beg for mercy.
Women are so incredibly troublesome, Lucian thought with a silent, weary sigh. She absolutely despised the idea of an arranged marriage, yet the moment a man genuinely stated he had no romantic interest in her, her pride was deeply offended. Did she want people to like her or not?
But Miss Yuxia hadn’t ambushed him in a dark stairwell just to fret over her marital prospects.
Seeing that Lucian’s panicked denial seemed genuine, she provisionally released his arm. Taking a step back, she beckoned him forward with a slender, imperious finger.
“Come with me. Why did you suddenly seek out the old man so late at night? Tell me everything, from beginning to end.”
“You act more like a cop than the actual cops do, Miss Yuxia.” Lucian rubbed his aching shoulder, grumbling under his breath. “It’s not a state secret or anything. Wouldn’t it be faster for you to just go upstairs and ask Old Lin yourself?”
Yuxia let out a cold, elegant snort. “The old man never tells me the truth. Whether it’s a massive crisis or a trivial squabble, he just waves me off, treating me like I’m still a little girl. Just because I’m his daughter, he assumes I’m incapable of handling great matters, and instead, he just keeps trying to push me onto random men… Ugh, the more I talk about it, the angrier I get. Get down on the floor and be my horse.”
“…I’m going to have to respectfully decline.”
Lucian stared at her in silence for a long moment before reluctantly turning down the bizarrely tempting offer. There was truly no reasoning with her when she got like this.
And so, with no other choice, Lucian allowed the Mouse Princess to drag him into her apartment.
She lived in the exact same building as her father, but while Old Lin occupied the sixth floor, Yuxia claimed the second. This right to ‘live independently’ was a hard-won victory, the result of a grueling, protracted cold war between father and daughter.
Old Lin cherished his daughter to a fault, treating her as if she were made of spun glass that would melt if he held her too tightly. Yuxia, however, was currently in the throes of a very typical, highly rebellious phase, which naturally deepened the friction between them. To make matters worse, she wasn’t just rebellious—she was exceptionally competent and intelligent, a fatal combination for any overprotective parent trying to keep their child out of the underworld.
Lucian was unceremoniously shoved into a living room that aggressively assaulted his senses with varying shades of pastel pink. He couldn’t stop himself from commenting, “What is this, a cartoon mouse’s dreamhouse? Miss Yuxia, has your aesthetic taste seriously not evolved since middle school?”
“I will take that as a compliment.”
The delicate Mouse Princess merely swung her bare, slender tail in a graceful arc. She kicked off her outdoor shoes, sliding her small, black-stocking-clad feet into a pair of fluffy pink slippers. The elegant curve of her ankle was captivating enough that Lucian found his gaze lingering for a few seconds longer than was strictly polite.
The princess, who dressed with immaculate, high-society precision even in the privacy of her own home, padded over to the kitchenette. “What do you want to drink? I don’t have any green tea. I only have coffee. Oh, and a massive stockpile of Victorian black tea that Swire forced upon me.”
“Ah, there’s no need to go to any trouble. The black tea will be perfectly fine—hmm?”
Before Lucian could even finish his sentence, Yuxia pulled a pitcher from the refrigerator and poured two cups of a thick, creamy white beverage, completely ignoring his preference.
Lucian stared at the glass shoved into his hand. The rich aroma, the familiar consistency… wait a minute!
“Isn’t this the soy milk from my own shop?” Lucian asked, utterly dumbfounded.
Yuxia snorted haughtily, taking a seat on her plush sofa. “I only asked what you wanted to drink. I never said that was what I was going to give you.”
Sitting perfectly upright, the little princess held her cup with both hands, taking a delicate sip of the thick white liquid before continuing. “This was also given to me by Swire. Even when she’s buried in L.G.D. paperwork, she forces her subordinates to run errands and buy out the stock from your tea shop every single day. Then she dumps a bunch of it on me, and I can’t even finish it all.”
“…This is genuinely the first time I’m hearing about this.”
Yuxia rolled her pink eyes at him, a look of deep pity on her face. “That’s because Swire doesn’t want you to know, obviously. It’s like some tragic, unrequited high school romance from a bygone era. Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that you live with that loud logistics girl, that foolish tiger would definitely have the nerve to do something ridiculous like bombard your shop with anonymous love letters.”