The filthy sounds of the drinking game echoed back and forth, noisy and unending. An extremely long time passed without a winner being decided. The maid, her expression growing more and more annoyed and unpleasant, lifted a corner of the door curtain and looked inside with a hostile gaze. The first thing she saw was a young boy sitting across the square table.

The boy looked about fifteen or sixteen, wearing a standard military cotton jacket, the front of which was covered in grease stains. His black hair, whether naturally curly or simply unwashed for years, was a bit wavy and greasy, yet his face was scrubbed exceptionally clean, making his features stand out sharply, as did the few freckles on his cheeks.

“Who’s lewd? You’re the lewd one!”

In stark contrast to the vulgar content of the drinking game, the boy’s expression at this moment was especially focused and serious. Not only was there not a trace of lewdness, but there was even a hint of sanctity and nobility in his eyes and brows. His right hand kept gesturing rock-paper-scissors in front of him, his moves swift as the wind, his “scissors” carrying a sense of killing intent, as if the outcome of this game mattered more to him than his own life.

A few green-headed flies, tough survivors of the harsh northwestern environment, kept trying to land on the greasy front of the boy’s jacket, but were always driven away by the wind of his fists and the intent of his blades.

“I win!”

The rock-paper-scissors match, which seemed long enough to squeeze all the air from the lungs of the two players at the table, finally ended. The black-haired boy swung his right arm vigorously, declaring his victory, and smiled happily, a cute dimple appearing on his left cheek.

His opponent, however, refused to admit defeat, insisting that the boy had changed his hand at the last moment when shouting “who’s lewd,” and the room instantly erupted into a heated argument. The soldiers watching each took sides, and no one could convince the others. Just then, someone shouted, “As usual, let’s listen to Lily Spencer!”

Everyone turned their gaze to a corner of the room, where an eleven- or twelve-year-old girl was moving a water bucket. She was short and thin, her skin dark, her features ordinary, and the maid’s dress she wore—stolen by her mistress from who knows where—was clearly too loose, the hem dragging on the ground as she struggled to carry a bucket that might weigh more than she did.

The little maid named Lily Spencer set down the bucket and turned around. The soldiers watched her nervously, like high rollers at a casino waiting for the dealer to reveal the final card. Clearly, this was not the first time such a scene had occurred.

The little maid frowned at the boy, then looked at the still-indignant soldier across the table and said seriously, “In the twenty-third round, you played scissors, he played rock, but you said he was lewd, so you already lost at that point.”

The room erupted in laughter, and the crowd dispersed. The soldier cursed as he handed over the money, and the boy accepted it with a happy grin, wiping it on the greasy front of his jacket before patting his opponent’s shoulder in sincere consolation.

“Cheer up. In all of Weicheng… no, in the whole world, who can beat me, Adam Spencer?”

The maid’s face was very unpleasant, so the captain, who had been secretly watching her expression from the side, also looked uneasy. He gripped the door curtain, took a deep breath, and was about to cough twice, but was stopped by the maid’s sharp glare.

To prevent the captain from alerting the others, the maid followed the boy and the maidservant as they left the barracks, observing them in silence. The captain had no idea what she intended, so he chalked it up to the usual cautious and eccentric habits of those close to the nobility.

Along the way, the boy named Adam Spencer showed nothing out of the ordinary. He bought some food, greeted the plump auntie at the tavern by the street, and seemed especially at ease. The only thing that struck the maid as odd, making her expression grow darker and darker, was this: the skinny little maid was struggling to drag the water bucket behind him, yet the boy showed not the slightest intention of helping.

The empire was a nation of strict social hierarchy, but the people were honest and simple. Even in the decadent and shadowy capital of Chang’an, even the coldest noble would hardly be able to watch an eleven- or twelve-year-old frail girl struggle so hard without feeling anything.

“Are soldiers allowed to keep maids in the army?” The delicate maid forcibly suppressed her anger and asked the captain beside her.

The captain scratched his head and replied, “A few years ago, there was a great drought in Hebei. Countless refugees fled south and to the border regions. There were corpses everywhere along the roads. I heard that Lily Spencer was picked up by Adam Spencer from a pile of corpses back then. Adam Spencer is also an orphan. Since then, the two of them have depended on each other.”

“Later, when he signed up for the army, his only condition was to bring this little girl into Weicheng.” He glanced at the maid and explained cautiously, “Everyone knows this isn’t allowed in the army, but their situation is a bit special. No one could bear to force a little girl into a dead end, so everyone just… pretended not to see.”

Hearing this explanation, the maid’s expression softened a little. However, when she saw Adam Spencer swinging half a roast chicken, and then saw the little maid several meters behind him, her thin, dark face flushed from the effort of dragging the water bucket, her mood soured again. She said coldly, “How is this depending on each other? He’s clearly trying to work that girl to death.”

Weicheng was indeed very small. Before long, the four of them arrived outside a house facing south. Outside was a small stone yard, surrounded by a simple fence. The maid and the captain stood outside the fence, looking in.