Harbinger Of Doom: The Attainer

40. The Teahouse

Prince Mo told Lores to treat the presage with little importance.

"There's no need to comfort me. I'm not bothered by the presage." Lores had said with a truly unbothered smile.

"That's why I was initially against meeting the fortune teller. He nearly made us dispirited."

"Forget about him." Lores replied rapidly. His eyes fell on a mask seller soon after. He nudged Mo and threw his jaw towards the mask seller but Mo showed no interest. He tugged at Mo's sleeve, his gaze pleading.

"Seven, it's barely sunset. If we keep buying anything we set our eyes on, we'll eventually run out of money. Besides, why didn't you bring any money with you?"Lores folded his arms and answered as if he was entitled to spend Mo's money.

"You're the host of today's outing while I'm just your chaperon. Rightfully, you're suppose to see to all our expenses. That's the way it's been done."

"Chaperon my ass. You're discreetly exploiting me under the facade of showing me the simplicity of life. What simplicity? Life will be difficult if we end up spending extravagantly. Let's make do with what we have." Mo advised mildly. Lores smiled slyly at Mo.

"Who could have thought that the honourable Prince of Nan is a full-fledged frugalist?"

Lores finally took pity on Mo after a brief thought.

"Hmm okay. Let that mask seller's stall be the last we will patronize for now. I promise, after you buy the mask I won't pester you." Mo was still dissatisfied with Lores' proposal. However, after hesitating for a while, he resigned himself to Lores' request.

"Alright. But if we eventually run out of fund, we'll have to count on you to beg for alms."

"Huh?" Lores face wried with shock. Mo fanned himself comfortably with a smile.

"What? Isn't a chaperon supposed to do the biddings of the host?" Mo went towards the mask seller without waiting for Lores' response. Lores giggled and followed in tow. He was aware he had exceeded his boundary as an escort guard. On the contrary, he was exhilarated by Mo's spontaneous attitude. The apparent Prince of Nan seemed different from the one who ordered his guards around and paid little attention to petty things.

"Young masters, you look good together." The man beamed when they approached. Lores and Mo looked at each other, unsure if they should welcome the compliment or not. Lores spoke as an act of quick relief, pointing at a particular mask.

"Ah, what mask is this?" The mask was hideous and scary. The eyes were awfully big, the nose was red and the lips were unnaturally twisted. In addition to its weird facial features, the mask was accurately amorphous. The mask seller smiled.

"It's the ghost festival mask. It looks funny, right? Hahaha!"

Lores looked at the mask with distaste while Mo was busy smirking.

"It looks funny. No doubt. Then we will buy this mask for my..." He paused, thinking of how to address Lores. He wouldn't want to use the word 'guard' in this situation. "Chaperon." Lores ears tingled. Mo turned his head to Lores, an indifferent smile brightening his face. Lores actively professed his disagreement.

"No no no! I don't like it. That thing will sully my comely face." Mo clicked his tongue.

"Earlier, you said you wanted a mask, didn't you? We've finally gotten you one. What's all the fuss about?"

"Let's get another one."

"No."

Lores made a frowny face.

"You have yourself to blame because you literally pointed at it and inquired about it." The mask seller stared frantically at them. They were similar to the couple scene of a wife nagging at her husband. Mo pointed his fan at a particular mask. It was white in colour, oval in shape. It had human facial features.