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.
"What about that mask?" The mask seller beamed.
"It is called the snow prince mask. Young master, you have a good taste." Lores' frowny face vanished and was superceded with an enlivened one.
"Yay! I like that one."
"Who said I'm buying it for you? I'm getting it for myself." Mo said indifferently. Lores frowned again.
"You end up getting the better one while I get the hideous one?" Mo sighed sympathetically and tapped Lores' shoulder twice.
"As my chaperon, you just have to put up with it."
"You..." Lores became wordless. From the look of things, he would have to resign to Mo's decision.
"Fine. I'll take this ghost.... whatever mask." He took the mask from the rack and put it on his face. Subsequently, he clawed his hand and roared in an attempt to depict the otherworldly nature of the mask. 'Wroaaaaa'
Mo chuckled and shook his head with the word 'childish' escaping him.
Lores spontaneously took Mo's mask and helped him with it. Mo froze. Such audacity! Meanwhile, Lores was busy enjoying the moment innocently, totally oblivious that he had exceeded his boundary.
"You're the prince while I'm the ghost. How's it?" The two masked men gazed at each other. Mo was moved by the unrestrained attitude of Lores. Boln and Hilbwet were always strictly former with him. Even the maids who dressed him dared not peek at his face. The revere attributed to him was just too excessive. But for some reason, he found Lores' unfazed approach tolerable.
Luckily for Mo, Lores couldn't see the expression on his face because the mask was shielding it. Lores was busy giggling behind the mask. Mo lowered his head and smiled with a reserved demeanor. He took out the mask, feeling a bit awkward behind it.
"Enough." Lores also removed his mask. He had a great time.
They continued their journey and stopped in front of a teahouse. The name 'three-silver teahouse' was written at its top. Haven walked on foot for a long while, Mo needed something to calm his nerves.
A man impeded their entry into three-silver teahouse.
"Young masters, you may not know. Master Herling is currently inside. You will have to drop a tip before entering." He explained jovially.
Master Herling was a famous storyteller in the capital. He told heroic deeds of kings, romantic and mysterious stories. He was someone that everyone readily wanted to listen to. His stories were regarded as authentic and influential. He had a way of provoking reactions from his audience.
With such an established reputation, his presence was usually treated with considerable respect. People would willingly pay money just to listen to him. Three-silver teahouse felt honoured to host him today.
Master Herling had been invited to tell stories in banquets hosted by nobles. Even the title 'master' prefixing his name was conferred to him by the king. Once the people heard of Master Herling sudden appearance in three-silver teahouse, they came in a horde to hear him talk themselves.
Mo was surprised. He never had in prospect to meet the famous storyteller in his outing. He was already fantasizing listening to Master Herling while sipping chrysanthemum tea. It would be a magical experience!
Lores didn't know who Master Herling was. But from Mo's reactions, he could tell the this Master Herling was an important personality.
Mo checked his purse, shock fleeting across his eyes. He was stunned that he had only three silver coins left. Listening to Master Herling talk without sipping tea was something bland. He tried to reason with the man after a brief thought.
"How about this, Let us in. Before leaving the teahouse, we will give you as much money as you want." What Mo said did not sit well with the man. Mo and Lores looked refined and noble. Dropping a tip shouldn't be exigent for them.
"If you aren't dropping anything, I'm afraid I can't let you in." The man said almost apologetically.
"Dropping tips shouldn't be forced on people. It is usually done out of the good will of one's heart. You're exploiting the people. You are using Master Herling's appearance to extort money from the people." Mo was getting upset, though his voice only carried a very faint trace of anger. It was more like they were forced to pay a listening fee just to hear Master Herling talk. The man got annoyed.
"Don't preach to me. If you don't have money, then leave the teahouse!"
"Are we paying to see a courtesan or what?!" Mo finally exploded. The man judged Mo from head to toe, making Mo feel insulted and debased.
"Scram!" Mo was dumbstruck for a split second. He had never been treated with such blatant disrespect.
"Do you know who I am?" The domineering part of Mo resurfaced. He gave the man a powerful gaze.
"Who are you?! The king? A prince? Hmph!!" Lores nudged Mo, giving him a look of 'Man, don't lose it' Lores didn't want the outing to be messed up.
Mo simmered down on Lores' hint. Lores snatched the jade pendant on Mo's waist, leaving the other person deal with his fear-of-the-expected state.
"How about this, we will make a deposit. Hold this jade pendant as a deposit till we give you the money." The man's eyes nearly popped out as he stared at the pendant not dissimilar to how a goblin stares at gold. It was an exquisite ornament made with an expensive material.
Lores ingressed the teahouse after giving the jade pendant to the man. Mo hastened his steps to meet Lores. He was going to investigate where Lores' madness came from.
"Seven, what did you just do? That jade pendant can get you a plot of land somewhere in the capital!"
"Just put up with it. Everything we do is to experience the simplicity of life."
"What simplicity of life? More like nuisance of life!"
They both squabbled some more before finally coming back to their senses.
Master Herling sat on stage, waving his folding fan. He didn't look that old. He should probably be in his late thirties. He was donning a smile as cool as the moon behind the clouds. The listeners were arguing on what genre of story to hear from the storyteller. Master Herling watched them amusingly.
They had to vote in order to restore oneness. After voting, the highest number of votes chose heroism.
Lores and Mo sat a table-apart from each other. The waitress came with a dazzling grin, as dazzling as her appearance.
"Let this humble one take your orders, young masters."
"A cup of chrysanthemum tea and some pastries." Mo ordered with regal authority as he fanned himself.
"A cup of chrysanthemum tea and some pastries with only three silver coins." Lores said quietly to Mo amidst gritting teeth. Mo continued smiling like a novice as if he didn't hear Lores.
"What about you?" The waitress asked Lores.
"Eh...just a cup of chrysanthemum tea will do."
"You didn't tell me you had a lot of money." Lores said when the waitress left. Mo was still sporting that smile.
"I have no money."
"Then how are we going to pay for the tea?"
Mo hesitated for a while.
"Seven, I'm the host. You don't need to worry about it." Lores understood that Mo had everything under control so he became unbothered.
The waitress returned with a tray. She placed the empty cups and pastries appropriately on the table after which she swirled, dancing beautifully like a swan. Her hand slowly reached the base of the mini kettle in her other hand as she poured tea from about five feet high into their cups. No mistake was made. Not even a drop of liquid fell on the table.
Lores and Mo watched amazingly till she was done. She smiled sweetly at them before leaving.
"She must be a dancer." Mo inferred. Her waist was slender and her moves were light. She was trying to blend her skill with the service of tea. Lores blew his tea.
"Such a unique way of serving tea."