Chapter 77

Chapter 77

"Alright, let's go. If we delay any longer, we'll only get to see the nighttime scenery." Ning Chan casually grabbed the hat hanging on the rack and tossed it onto Kane's head before turning to walk to the door and opening it.

Nowadays, lighting mostly depended on torches and candles. Fortunately, thanks to Ning Chan's encouragement for everyone to raise pigs, cows, and sheep in large numbers, there was enough extra fat for candle-making, which they could spare to hang outside at night to light the streets.

However, these animal fats gave off black smoke and unpleasant odors when burned, so people generally didn’t use them much.

Of course, figures like former bishops and nobles wouldn’t use such things, which symbolized filth and reeked of rot. Their lighting primarily came from beeswax—though it burned with lighter smoke and a cleaner scent, the limited supply prevented them from being too extravagant.

So, when night came, folks turned in early. No point wandering around at night—if you needed something, why not do it during the day when you could see better?

The few shops that stayed open at night were mostly inns and late-night food stalls.

Unlike in later times, where some cities earned the name "cities that never sleep," bustling with crowds and bright lights, thriving until dawn as if it were daytime, such scenes became rare after the apocalypse.

The pitch-black night hid too many dangers—whether from zombies or humans, since law and order had crumbled.

Now, people dared to walk at night thanks to Kane and his reforms, which stabilized order. They suppressed the hands lurking in the shadows, keeping troublemakers in check.

Watching Ning Chan’s figure vanish through the door in an instant, Kane took off the hat that had been covering his eyes and glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He pressed a finger against the hair on his forehead, his eyes brimming with amusement.

Had Ning Chan finally noticed that he wasn’t that little kid who needed constant care anymore?

To be honest, once he’d wised up, Kane had felt a twinge of regret—had he overplayed the "helpless" act with Ning Chan, cementing his "innocent" image in the other’s mind?

But if he hadn’t, given Ning Chan’s personality, he wouldn’t have allowed Kane to get this close. Just look at the others who had been in the church with them—none had earned Ning Chan’s patience like this.

Caught between hope and doubt, mentally hyping himself up, Kane pressed his lips together as his smile faded slightly. He took a deep breath. Close quarters spark affection—he would succeed.

The stylist and guards waiting outside saw only Ning Chan emerge, and their hearts sank.

Oh no. Did His Holiness mess up the King’s haircut?

The stylist clenched her fists, silently hyping herself up.

It’s fine. No matter how bad it looks, with my skills, I... I can definitely fix it for His Majesty.

If... if it’s really beyond saving, then His Majesty will just have to wear a hat and let it grow out.

Steeling themselves for the worst, they nearly choked on their own breath when Kane finally stepped out.

He—he’s gorgeous!

Kane was dressed in a dark blue suit, holding a matching top hat in one hand. A few strands of hair were swept back from his forehead, revealing its smooth surface. The thin-framed glasses tempered the allure of his peach-blossom eyes, adding a stern, dignified edge.

Though he had lost the ethereal beauty of long hair, the crisp, clean-cut look he now gave was striking.

"I never thought hair could be cut like this!" The stylist felt as if a whole new world of possibilities had opened before her. Until now, her styling had leaned toward intricate, ornate designs—she hadn’t realized simplicity and elegance could be its own kind of beauty.

With his new look making him less recognizable, Kane didn’t bring the guards along. After all, a whole entourage would only draw attention.

The streets had patrols, and his own skills weren’t just for show. For a short while, nothing should go wrong.

Faced with the King’s willfulness, the Captain of the Guard left behind at the palace could only frown and discuss with his deputy how to tighten patrols on the streets, ensuring nothing happened at this critical moment.

Once arrangements were made, the Captain of the Guard shot the stylist, Ai Mi, a meaningful look.

"Think you can recreate that look?"

Ai Mi eyed Fa Bo’s curls tied into a bun at his nape and blinked. "Of course I don't know how. This must be His Holiness’s exclusive design for the King. If I get the chance, I’ll beg His Holiness to see if he can teach me."

Fa Bo nodded, impressed by her enthusiasm. He was just about to ask her to give him the same hairstyle if she ever learned it when Ai Mi’s next words choked him.

"But honestly? A King’s cut on you? Disaster. Your hair is too curly—if cut short, it’d poof up like a mangy lion." As if imagining the scene, Ai Mi covered her mouth and giggled.

Both had curls, but Ning Chan’s fell in soft waves, while Fa Bo’s was tight corkscrews that fought gravity daily, requiring water every day to tame them into something presentable.

The deputy captain, standing nearby, studied Fa Bo’s head with a serious expression and wholeheartedly agreed with Ai Mi. "Exactly, it wouldn’t suit you. My hair’s made for it. Lady Ai Mi, when you learn, do mine first."

Fa Bo patted the frizzy mushroom at his crown, unsure whether to scold the two of them or lament his hair’s lack of cooperation.

"Ugh, if only I could iron these out..."

While Fa Bo was wishing his curls could be straightened, Kane was busy scheming how to corrupt Ning Chan.

"This is a century-old shop. The Whites have dressed nobility for generations—their craftsmanship is excellent. Would you like to take a look at their formalwear? If you find a style you like, they can make it for you. If not, they can design something new based on your preferences."

Though Kane had painstakingly made a few outfits himself, they were all "simple" designs based on Ning Chan’s past descriptions—built for comfort and motion while relying on fabric and cut to stand out.

Ning Chan acted pleased, but Kane doubted it. He didn’t want to neglect more elaborate attire—what if Ning Chan secretly preferred that?

Seeing the enthusiasm in Kane’s eyes, Ning Chan couldn’t bring himself to refuse and reluctantly agreed.

Over the years, he’d seen plenty of noble attire and privately thanked his lucky stars that being a church saint had its perks—his robes were loose and simple.

Just look at those frilly, layered garments, skin-tight trousers, and heeled shoes that defied common sense. Even the sight of them cramped his toes, let alone wearing them.

Still, he couldn’t dismiss them entirely. In a way, they were beautiful—their intricate patterns and styles embodied the culture of their era.

If Kane insisted, he’d humor him.

But heels? Absolutely not.

Heels were invented to avoid street muck—now they’re just torture. Now that the streets were clean, why torture himself?

He’d tolerate trends, but not kneel to them.

"Just look, don’t touch. You might ruin the clothes."

The young clerk in the shop, seeing only two unfamiliar men enter—no servants in tow, dressed plainly without any status-signifying jewelry—couldn’t help curling his lip.

More backwater trash—lowering the tone. They were dragging the place down.

Pretty faces? Just noble-bait.

At the clerk’s venom, Ning Chan raised a brow at Kane. Were they about to be kicked out?

Kane tipped his hat down, teeth grinding. "Since when did this dump hire such snobs?"

"What, is this lace or tissue paper? Hmph, seems this batch isn’t worth it. Let’s try another shop." Kane had finally gotten Ning Chan out—he wasn’t wasting time on some snob.

Ning Chan had no interest in lingering either. "It’s fine. The city has more than one shop. I didn’t see anything I liked here anyway. Let’s check out others."

With that, he let Kane steer him toward the exit.

Just as they turned to leave, the clerk slammed his abacus onto the counter with a sneer. "Scram, you’re jinxed. This is *noble* wear, not rags for your kind. Who are you to judge? You couldn’t afford a single button even if we sold you off!"

"'Didn’t see anything you liked'? What would a couple of hicks know about taste? Must be blind—no wonder you wear glasses. Get your prescription—and your lives—checked, losers."

Perhaps this guy usually had some skill in dealing with people, as his mouth was flapping a mile a minute, speaking incredibly fast, and a torrent of words would pour out the moment he opened it.

"BAM!"

Before Ning Chan could even muster a rebuttal, the person beside him was already flying into a rage.

Kane had initially planned to keep a low profile for a while and deal with this guy later, but the fool just had to poke the bear. The person he cherished most in his heart, the apple of his eye—how dare anyone insult them so casually?

Releasing his arm from Ning Chan's shoulder, Kane strode forward in a few steps, kicked a massive hole in the counter with one stomp, reached out with his long arm, grabbed the young man by the collar, yanked him out from behind the counter, and slapped him twice across the face.

"If that mouth of yours doesn't know how to behave, I'll be happy to discipline it."