The Reincarnated Villainous Young Master's Guide to Happiness

Chapter 23: Cornflower

This chapter is brought to you by Night Air by KINGDOM. 

Edited by: bafflinghaze

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The road brought them to a busy street.

Paperwhite lanterns lit the way, encompassing the street in a gentle glow.

Like any other slum, the buildings were shabby and small, crowded, and somewhat filthy. Some were quite literally crumbling before their eyes. The road was little more than a dirt path.

The inhabitants looked fatigued as they wandered the street, dressed in worn clothes made from hemp and coarse wool. They were even less fortunate than the common people, dust-covered and starved to the bones, with sallow skin and sharp cheekbones.

There were noticeable attempts to cover these flaws. Many tried their best to look well-kept despite the obvious signs of poverty burdening their shoulders. None had very tall postures, but they didn't shrink into themselves in shame, either. They were... not necessarily comfortable with their lives, but there was a spark of something in their eyes. A lack of fear or something akin to it, although a trait Neo was accustomed to seeing and feeling during his time in the slums wasn't present in these people.

He found it strange that no one was fighting for the last scrap of food. Where were the boundary lines? The street gangs? The herd of street urchins pouncing on their latest victim? There wasn't even a brawl happening in the open streets or closed alleys.

The people went about their evening... peacefully.

Neo thought the sight was wrong.

There was no peace in the slums. It didn't exist. It shouldn't exist.

He could feel a flaring heat on his back.

Their group stuck out like a sore thumb with their sheepskin cloaks—or in Tybalt's case, a deerskin coat—and shoes.

Most of the inhabitants didn't bat an eye at their presence, but some gave them a cursory glance before looking away.

There was strange air about the area, unfamiliar to Neo, who had only seen the violence of the slum he had come from.

He suddenly paused in his steps.

What is this?

What appeared to be a night market began to emerge before his eyes.

People were setting up makeshift stalls with wooden crates and boxes, tidying up the area with brooms made from branches, placing moth-bitten cloth over the crates, and creating a market.

More and more lanterns began to light the path, bathing the entire street with a warm luster.

People walked through the "market", trading resources with one another as they laughed and gossiped like how one would in the common markets.

"Seems we found the eastern slums," Tybalt commented with a relaxed smile on his face, "It's a good thing we chose the right way. The western part can be pretty rough if you're not careful... Did you guys come out from there...? Naza...? Hello...?"

Children ran through the streets, playing games with big smiles on their faces.

They wore rags, with dirt and soot covering their cheeks and hands, but they dared to laugh and push one another with a playful air about them. By this age, they should have learned to be silent and keep their hands to themselves if they still want them.

Neo didn't understand why they were so happy. Didn't they know how poor they were? How hungry they were? There were no parents to rely on, or adults to care for them. They were on their own and shouldn't even trust the other children on the streets to keep their lives.