Chapter Sixteen: A Woman’s Performance

As long as the residents of Red Hazelnut Town didn’t see, she couldn’t help but nuzzle against him.

At this moment, she could sense that his expression remained calm, but beneath the finely woven magical robe, his solid arm seemed to tense slightly. After all, a young mage was not as dull and incompetent as an old relic, so he feigned a placid heart.

Lady Ordos felt a certain satisfaction; this feeling of making a young man’s heart flutter was like the first time she put on a beautiful dress—overwhelming joy.

“You seem to have quite a reputation in town. People’s favor toward you must far exceed that of Lord Ordos,” Johan observed, watching the townsfolk’s expressions as they saw him with Lady Ordos.

As for Lady Ordos always linking her arm with his, it was nothing unusual.

As long as she wasn’t seen pressing against him, it was merely a normal courtesy of a noble lady accompanying a distinguished guest.

On the Roland Continent, even in conservative and traditional places, there were no strict codes of conduct between elites and nobles regarding men and women.

Of course, some places, for various reasons, might casually burn a beautiful young maiden for no reason.

Red Hazelnut Town was not such a place.

“Yes, usually if there are troublesome matters or things that might cause fear or pressure among ordinary people, I leave those to my husband,” Lady Ordos lowered her voice.

“There are also some tedious tasks, like issuing salaries and paying wages, that I handle. Sometimes, when collecting debts, I quietly allow some people extensions or reduce their payments. If the quality or quantity of goods entering the warehouse is slightly subpar, I turn a blind eye.”

Johan understood that Lady Ordos and her husband were not on the same page—not just recently, but for a long time. He was merely a fuse, or rather, he gave Lady Ordos’s ambitions the chance to ferment and come to fruition.

“You are brutally honest,” Johan said without displeasure. Women often appeared as scheming or sanctimonious types, so when she was a straightforward villainess, it was somewhat endearing.

Hearing “brutally honest,” Lady Ordos smiled faintly, playing with the lace at her waist with her free hand, tugging it teasingly, as if waiting for someone to take the initiative.

Johan took a deep breath; the weak winter sunlight and the crisp air filled his lungs but did not extinguish the burning desire in his blood. Once again, he felt hunger.

However, since Lady Ordos kept holding his arm tightly, it was somewhat inconvenient for him to greet and chat with every townsfolk.

He wanted to do this not because he treated the townspeople like NPCs, hoping to trigger side quests through conversations.

He was learning from his mentor.

Yemongarde, during her travels across the Roland Continent, had a passion for talking with ordinary people. She recorded every story, legend, and folk tale she encountered.

One could say Yemongarde was the most experienced and knowledgeable person on the Roland Continent, and as her student, Johan naturally sought to inherit her methods and style.

“Mr. Johan, come in and have a drink,”

Upon seeing a sign bearing a hammer emblem wrapped with tattered red cloth mimicking flames, Johan and Lady Ordos had just stopped when old Dingdang, the blacksmith, came out enthusiastically to greet them.

“Sure,”

Johan waved. Old Dingdang was the first person he met upon arriving at Red Hazelnut Town. After setting up his camp, he met the blacksmith who was searching the mountains for ore and shared a cup of warm wine with him.

Lady Ordos barely furrowed her brow, masking her reluctance well, and released Johan’s arm to follow him inside.

“Please, madam,” Old Dingdang greeted warmly.

That day, Gwen and the old steward Lind were beaten nearly to death by Lord Ordos; after falling unconscious, they did not witness Johan killing anyone.

Lind stayed in the manor to recover, while Gwen was personally sent back by Lady Ordos.

Not only was Gwen granted leave to recuperate, but she also received a substantial subsidy.

This made Old Dingdang, despite his resentment and hatred for Lord Ordos, unable to bear ill will toward this kind and generous lady of the house.

Old Dingdang was one of the most skilled blacksmiths in town. He not only maintained weapons, armor, and tack for the manor’s guards but also crafted farming and mining tools.

If it weren’t for the heavy taxes and exploitation by the Ordos family, Old Dingdang’s life should have been quite comfortable.

For example, three years ago, Lord Ordos invented a “Dingdang Tax,” stipulating that anyone making a “dingdang” sound after sunset must pay a tax.

The reason was, of course, that Lord Ordos had trouble sleeping and needed to rest quietly to maintain a good mood.

Such sounds disturbed him, but mercifully, Lord Ordos accepted compensation through taxation for the disturbance.

Since then, after sunset, Old Dingdang dared not raise his hammer... Occasionally, when he had urgent work, after finishing, he found the money earned was not enough to pay this “Dingdang Tax.”

Lord Ordos was proud of his cunning because he did not simply call it a “Noise Tax” but specifically the “Dingdang Tax,” implying he could later invent a “Bam Bam Tax,” “Tick Tock Tax,” “Woo Woo Tax,” and so on.

Before he died, Lord Ordos was already annoyed by the children’s occasional cries in town and was preparing to devise a “Howl Howl Tax.”

“The Dingdang Tax has been abolished. You can work whenever you want from now on...” Lady Ordos said with a smile to Old Dingdang. “Of course, you can’t hammer in the middle of the night, or the neighbors will be so angry they might pour water into your furnace, and then you can’t blame anyone but yourself.”

Her beautiful smile made Old Dingdang dizzy with joy. He exclaimed, “Really? Has the lord... the lord finally shown mercy?”

“Yes, I persuaded him for a long time. Before he left town on business, he finally relented. I’ve already arranged for the official cancellation of this tax, and because it was so unreasonable, I decided to have the accountant settle accounts and return all the Dingdang Tax collected over the past years to you.”

Lady Ordos smiled as Old Dingdang was overcome with emotion, hardly able to contain himself. She glanced at the broken, dim mirror behind him. The woman reflected there looked like a duchess from a novel—gentle, beautiful, kind, and elegant.

She looked over at Johan, who was preparing to visit Gwen. He happened to glance back at her.

Perhaps because of her splendid performance just now, Lady Ordos sensed a certain desire in his gaze. It seemed he could no longer suppress the urge to possess her.

No wonder she had been wagging her tail like a well-trained puppy these past few days, eager to please.