Chapter 61: A Lesson in Deception and the Bard’s Allure

It seemed she had indeed picked up a trick or two, understanding the art of starting with a low offer and gradually negotiating.

Regrettably, her grasp of the art was rather limited.

The old man hesitated, a thoughtful pause stretching between them.

Truth be told, even if he sold such a dilapidated trinket for a mere thousand Lira, he would still be making an exorbitant profit!

Yet, having finally lured such a plump lamb, could he truly honor his decade-plus commercial career without fleecing her for a substantial sum?

Thus, he feigned an expression of profound anguish.

“Oh, my dear girl, you jest… A mere thousand Lira would leave me utterly destitute! How about we both concede a little, and you take it for four thousand Lira…”

“Four thousand? Cease your jesting! My absolute maximum is two thousand!”

“Three thousand five hundred, and not a single Lira less…”

Following a spirited bout of haggling, Luluti triumphantly brought the price down to two thousand five hundred Lira.

“Well? With a single stroke, I effortlessly halved the price, didn’t I? Quite impressive, wouldn’t you say?”

Luluti, brimming with smug satisfaction, boasted to Yalin.

“Ah, young lady, you are truly formidable; this old man simply cannot contend with your prowess… Very well, half it is. Given such a fortuitous encounter, I shall cede it to you…”

The old man sighed, massaging his forehead, though Yalin knew his lips were likely struggling to suppress a triumphant grin.

“Honestly, old man, do you truly find amusement in deceiving a child in such a manner?”

No sooner had Yalin spoken than two indignant retorts erupted in unison.

“I am certainly not fleecing anyone!”

“To whom are you referring as a child!”

Ignoring Luluti’s outburst, Yalin retrieved the pot and angled its lid towards her.

“Observe this minuscule aperture on the lid,” he instructed. “Should it remain uncovered, the liquid within will readily spill forth. Yet, if you block it, the water, due to air pressure, becomes impossible to pour.”

True to Yalin’s words, the moment the small hole on the lid was obstructed, not a single drop of water could be coaxed from within the pot, regardless of how steeply it was tilted.

“Air pressure…? Does that imply there’s no spirit within at all?”

“What else would it be? It is merely a rudimentary sleight of hand.”

At this revelation, Luluti bristled with indignation, her eyes blazing as she glared at the stall owner. “How dare you deceive me!”

Caught red-handed, the old man’s demeanor shifted to one of profound awkwardness. He scratched his head, offering a sheepish chuckle. “So that’s the secret! I confess, this is the first I’ve heard of it… Haha, this young gentleman truly possesses a wealth of knowledge… Still, it is a rare artifact, imported all the way from the Eastern Lands. Perhaps a thousand Lira would suffice, then…”

“Hmph, I no longer desire it! Who can discern the truth from the falsehoods you utter?”

With a dismissive pout, Luluti turned on her heel and departed.

Witnessing his “cooked duck” about to take flight, the old man stamped his feet in a flurry of panic, frantically calling out, “Wait, wait, wait! My apologies! I’ll make it even cheaper! Five hundred Lira! Two hundred fifty will do! Would you perhaps care to peruse other wares?”

Luluti, however, remained utterly impervious, her steps unwavering.

Trailing behind her, Yalin cast a discreet glance over his shoulder, just in time to catch the old man’s expression of profound remorse.

Now, at last, it was his turn to savor the moment.

In truth, for a young lady of Luluti’s exalted standing, a mere few thousand Lira were as inconsequential as a splash of water.

Furthermore, since it was not his own coffers being depleted, Yalin had no inherent obligation to expose the deception.

The true grievance, however, lay in the sheer audacity of the old man’s swindling!

Indeed, witnessing another so effortlessly amass a fortune, Yalin felt a surge of indignation.

No, I toil through an entire day of lessons merely to earn five thousand Lira, yet this old scoundrel can simply wag his tongue and pilfer half that amount?

Where, then, was the justice in that?

Yalin sighed, resigning himself. Alas, he was simply that kind of disagreeable individual.

The commercial street stretched far, its stalls brimming with an eclectic array of peculiar goods and sundry curiosities.

From the smallest button to an entire suit of armor, the sheer variety of wares presented a dazzling spectacle.

Luluti, her excitement palpable, gazed left and right as they walked, her attention captured almost every few steps.

One moment, she would linger before a spice stall, inhaling deeply and eagerly inquiring about its uses; the next, she would be mesmerized by the dazzling gemstones in a jewelry shop, her eyes sparkling with delight, or perhaps marveling at the intricate puppets being carved by an artisan on the spot.

Such an unworldly demeanor, devoid of any aristocratic poise, made her appear less like a young lady of standing and more like a wide-eyed rustic from the countryside.

Yalin sighed, resigning himself to trailing helplessly in Luluti’s wake.

In truth, many of the items that captivated her could be effortlessly replaced by alternatives dozens of times more costly, readily found within the villa itself—yet, at home, Luluti would scarcely deign to cast them a glance.

Here, however, she behaved as though she had stumbled upon a new continent, her entire being alight with an almost feverish excitement.

Perhaps this was a universal human failing: the more unattainable an object, the more ardently one yearned for it.

Consider a person of immense wealth, one who has savored every exotic delicacy and dwelled in countless opulent villas; they might, paradoxically, find greater charm in humble street food or the quaint tiled roofs of a small town.

Indeed, a rather profound observation.

So, when would he, this pauper, finally attain a grand mansion and dine on prime steaks?

Luluti, utterly unrestrained in her spending, presented a veritable feast for the surrounding merchants, who eagerly swarmed forward to ply their wares. Yet, should any attempt to fleece her too brazenly, the mischievous Yalin would inevitably expose their ruse, sending them away with sighs of regret.

Even so, before long, his hands were thoroughly laden with her purchases.

Good heavens, was he to be relegated to the role of a mere porter?

Yet, what strength could a man as delicate as himself possibly possess? He soon found himself breathless and utterly depleted, as if his very essence had been siphoned away, after walking but a short distance.

“Luluti, perhaps… might we consider a brief respite?”

“Hah, we’ve only just ventured out, and already you falter?”

Luluti cast him a disdainful glance. “If you deem it too burdensome, I could, perhaps, relieve you of it.”

“…”

Were it not for the two vigilant bodyguards trailing close behind, he would have, without hesitation, thrust his entire load upon Luluti.

Alas, such a recourse was utterly unattainable.

“Not precisely, but beyond the myriad stalls offering goods, the commercial street also teems with various performers. Since we are here on such a rare occasion, would you not care to experience their artistry?”

Yalin, with a practiced ease, steered the conversation to a new topic.

“Performers? Do they sing and dance?” Luluti’s interest was instantly piqued.

“Indeed, something of that nature. Storytellers are also common; observe, is there not one just yonder?”

Following the direction of Yalin’s outstretched finger, in a nearby plaza, a young man adorned with a feathered cap sat upon the stone steps, a harp cradled in his arms, his voice seemingly recounting a tale.

A throng of people encircled him, their cheers erupting in intermittent bursts of appreciation.

“I know, I know! That’s a bard, isn’t it? I’ve read about them in books!”

Luluti’s eyes instantly brightened, and seizing Yalin’s hand, she eagerly tugged him forward.

“Let us hasten! Lest the tale conclude before our arrival!”

Fortuitously, as the two reached the plaza, the bard had just concluded his preceding narrative.

A segment of the gathered crowd, having offered their coins, began to disperse, allowing the two to seamlessly secure positions in the front row.

The poet offered a slight bow of his head. “I extend my gratitude for your generosity, and to those listeners who graciously choose to remain. Now, I shall embark upon a tale concerning a certain princess.”