Callista Moonstone's features looked as though they had been carved patiently by heaven itself beneath moonlight and silence.
Her eyes, deep and dark beneath long lashes, carried the calm shine of polished obsidian resting at the bottom of still water. They were beautiful enough to draw attention, yet quiet enough to conceal countless thoughts beneath their surface.
Even her lips possessed a natural softness.
Nothing about them felt deliberately crafted.
It simply belonged there.
Like a flower blooming quietly beside a winter lake.
The pale golden robes draped around her shoulders caught the sunlight gently, causing faint warmth to shimmer around her figure. Sitting within the wheelchair, she almost seemed surrounded by an invisible halo.
Compared with the noisy arrogance radiating from Vanessa and Damien above, Callista's presence felt entirely different.
Still.
Steady.
Unshaken by the commotion surrounding her.
Then she spoke.
"Young Master," she said softly, "thank you for your cushions."
Her voice flowed smoothly into Zion's ears, low and elegant, carrying a gentleness that could make people lower their guard without even realizing it.
For one brief second, Zion genuinely forgot to breathe.
Then he immediately pulled himself together.
No.
Focus.
This woman had just fallen from the third floor.
Yet not once had panic crossed her face.
Even while falling through open air, she had remained calm enough to observe everything around her.
Zion's eyes narrowed slightly.
He had underestimated her.
Completely.
Recovering quickly, he stretched his fingers lazily before brushing some invisible dust from his sleeve with an easy smile.
"Well then," he said brightly, "since my cushions saved Your Highness's life, shouldn't there be some proper compensation?"
His eyes curved slightly with amusement.
"Let us say... one hundred gold coins."
The surrounding crowd immediately inhaled sharply.
One hundred gold coins.
For ordinary commoners, that amount could comfortably support an entire household for months.
Yet Callista's expression did not change.
Only the faintest flicker passed through her dark eyes.
Amusement.
Then she asked gently,
"May I trouble Young Master for another favor first?"
Zion raised one eyebrow.
Another favor?
After nearly dying?
Before he could ask what she meant, Callista suddenly moved.
With smooth elegance completely unsuited to the situation, she slowly leaned backward before lowering herself onto the ground again, landing atop the furballs.
Zion stared.
His jaw almost dropped.
'What is she doing?'
Callista then looked calmly toward him and spoke with complete seriousness.
"Young Master may climb to the third floor and jump down as well," she suggested softly. "I will certainly catch you properly with these arms."
A faint pause followed.
"Then we shall be even."
Silence descended over the street.
Several people blinked repeatedly.
Zion himself remained frozen for two full heartbeats.
'Did she just...'
Invite him to jump off a building?
Was this woman insane?
More importantly, how could someone with such an elegant appearance say something so shameless with such complete calm?
"Your Highness," Zion said slowly while staring at her, "you are still a princess of the empire. Shouldn't you at least attempt to make a proper payment?"
Callista blinked innocently.
"I am not refusing payment."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes."
She paused thoughtfully and lightly touched her chin.
"Unfortunately," she continued in a deeply serious tone, "I genuinely possess nothing valuable upon me at the moment."
The crowd nodded slightly.
Reasonable enough.
Then Callista added softly,
"However... my beautiful face still remains intact."
She sighed with reluctant resignation.
"I suppose I can only offer that instead."
The street became completely silent again.
Even the nearby vendors stopped shouting.
A child holding candied fruit stared at her with wide eyes.
Zion felt something twitch violently near his forehead.
Before he could recover, Callista actually lowered her gaze slightly with faint shyness, looking almost like a noble young lady reluctantly offering herself in marriage for survival.
At that moment, Zion understood something important.
This woman was not merely elegant.
She was dangerous.
Dangerously shameless.
Nearby whispers erupted instantly.
"Is the princess flirting?!"
"She offered her face as payment!"
"Well... to be fair, that face is worth far more than one hundred gold."
"She looks prettier than half the noble daughters in the capital."
Zion inhaled deeply through his nose.
Slowly.
Carefully.
If he failed to control himself, he genuinely might push this woman back upstairs himself.
"One hundred gold coins," he repeated stiffly. "You truly refuse to pay?"
Callista sighed dramatically before placing one hand lightly against her chest.
"Young Master wounds my heart with these words."
Her voice softened even further.
"We have already experienced life and death together. At this point, am I not already your lady?"
She shook her head faintly with sorrowful disappointment.
"Speaking of money during such an emotional encounter... does it not damage our feelings?"
Zion stared at her silently.
Utterly speechless.
This graceful princess.
This beautiful noblewoman with calm eyes and elegant posture...
She was the single most shameless person Zion had met in both lives combined.
All this.
For one hundred gold coins.
She was willing to flirt openly, act pitiful, speak like an abandoned bride, damage her reputation, and lie dramatically on the street rather than pay money.
Zion suddenly felt cheated by heaven itself.
"I have been deceived..." he muttered under his breath.
Black immediately chimed in from his hair ornament.
"Master fell for the face."
White sighed deeply.
"A tragic tale. Beauty truly blinds the heart."
Zion's eye twitched.
"I am incredibly unlucky today," he hissed quietly. "Cheated by appearances once again."
Before he lost his patience completely and rolled Callista's wheelchair directly into a river somewhere, Zion bent down swiftly, scooped up the two furballs from beneath the princess, and immediately turned to leave the crowd.
Absolutely not.
He refused to continue speaking with this woman for another second.
Behind him, Callista's warm voice drifted lazily through the street.
"Young Master."
Zion's walking speed immediately increased.
"Since I already belong to you now," Callista continued gently, "should you not at least tell me your address?"
His pace doubled.
Dangerous.
This woman was far too dangerous.
Not because of cultivation.
Not because of power.
But because her sense of shame apparently had no lower limit.
"Shameless," Zion muttered while marching angrily through the street. "Absolutely shameless. I usually take advantage of others, yet today I was robbed clean by a crippled princess."
His cheeks puffed slightly with frustration.
"How humiliating."
Black immediately spoke up.
"She even used us as cushions without paying food compensation."
White gasped dramatically.
"That is true! Cushion fee remains unpaid! We suffered greatly today!"
Zion winced.
The tiny accusing voices poked at his conscience repeatedly like needles.
"That is not my fault," he defended weakly while rubbing his forehead. "I was trying to earn one hundred gold coins for both of you. She is the stingy one."
"Hmph. I do not believe, Master."
"Me neither."
The suspicion in their voices was unbearable.
Finally sighing helplessly, Zion stopped beside a food stall where warm steam curled upward from bamboo baskets, carrying the rich scent of freshly cooked buns.
He purchased two immediately.
The moment each furball received one, their grape-sized eyes transformed into glittering stars.
Tiny hands emerged from their fluffy bodies as they grabbed the buns desperately, as though heaven itself had descended into their paws.
Watching them devour their food happily, Zion could not help smiling slightly.
These two truly were absurdly easy to bribe.
Soon afterward, they slipped briefly into a nearby alley while the furballs finished eating noisily, stuffing their cheeks so full that they resembled overfilled dumplings.
Once their stomachs were properly rounded, Zion resumed walking through the bustling capital streets.
Then Black suddenly spoke again.
This time, his voice was serious.
"Master... that shameless princess from earlier is not simple."
Zion raised one brow.
"Oh?"
White quickly continued.
"Her spiritual strength is extremely powerful. Something suppresses it heavily, but if our senses are correct..."
A faint pause followed.
"Her original rank should be very high."
Zion's steps slowed unconsciously.
No wonder Callista had fallen from the third floor without fear.
She had not panicked because she already knew the fall could not truly injure her.
"So her core is sealed..." Zion murmured thoughtfully.
Everything surrounding that woman felt mysterious.
Crippled legs.
A sudden elevation into royalty.
Suppressed strength.
A personality capable of making even Zion lose his composure.
Clearly, countless secrets hid beneath her calm smile.
"How strong was she originally?" he finally asked.
The two furballs answered together.
"Sky Stage."
Zion's brows lifted slightly.
At most, Callista seemed only three years older than him.
Yet her cultivation had already reached the Sky Stage before being suppressed?
This princess truly was no ordinary person.
Still...
Remembering their earlier conversation made Zion's forehead twitch again.
"But honestly," he muttered bitterly, "why did she insist on harassing me specifically?"
The furballs remained suspiciously silent afterward.
Soon, Zion arrived before a massive medicinal shop standing proudly near the center of North Street.
**Apollo Apothecary.**
The largest apothecary in the imperial capital.
The moment he pushed open the carved wooden doors, a warm herbal fragrance rushed outward.
Countless scents blended together, filling the air in thick layers.
Zion inhaled deeply.
Then he subconsciously began identifying the ingredients.
"Mana Gathering Grass..."
"Red Peach Fruit..."
"Blood Coagulation Herb..."
His eyes moved slowly across rows of drawers and shelves packed tightly with medicinal ingredients, faint recognition flashing through his gaze.
Although his previous life had centered around survival and battle, his understanding of pharmacology remained extremely sharp.
In dangerous worlds, knowledge of herbs could often mean the difference between life and death.
Step by step, Zion moved deeper inside, already planning which ingredients he would need for his next stage of cultivation.
Behind the counter, an elderly man wearing dark robes paused while sorting herbs.
Eirik.
The treasurer of Apollo Apothecary.
The moment he heard Zion casually identify medicinal scents one after another merely through smell, his hands froze.
For several moments, he simply stared.
Finally, after recovering from his surprise, he slowly stepped forward.
"The young master possesses remarkable ability," Eirik praised honestly, amazement clear in his voice. "Identifying herbs through scent alone is no easy task."
His eyes shone with genuine admiration.
He himself had spent decades surrounded by medicinal ingredients before developing such sensitivity.
Yet this youth standing before him accomplished it effortlessly while appearing barely fifteen or sixteen years old.
Zion smiled politely.
"The Treasurer praises me too highly."
"But how does someone so young possess such understanding?"
Eirik leaned forward slightly, unable to hide the curiosity shining in his aged eyes.
The old man's passion for pharmacology practically radiated from him.
This was not suspicion.
Nor was it interrogation.
It was simply the excitement of a scholar encountering unexpected talent.
Zion understood immediately.
"I studied pharmacology from childhood," he replied calmly. "It has always interested me."
Eirik's eyes brightened further.
"Then... are you perhaps a physician?"