Most of the little sprites are utterly defenseless against the sweet talking charmingly adorned purple umbrella sprite.

They willingly accept her sales pitches unless they truly cannot consume her offerings.

Few dare to reject her.

The dim moon ascends to the zenith.

While Bowwa closes up shop and heads home.

Here s your money.

I owe you nothing.

So please do not follow me.

She declares tossing the coins onto the ground.

This is but a portion of the earnings from today s grilled fish.

And by Chiwa acknowledges the assistance of the purple umbrella sprite.

Though she despises her, she cannot disregard the fruits of her labor and feels a sense of entitlement.

She keeps track of how much the purple umbrella sprite has sold.

And upon returning home, her first thought is to swiftly divide the earnings with her, severing their ties and urging her not to pester her any longer.

The purple umbrella sprite, however, is unfazed by Boway's harsh demeanor.

Instead, she cheerfully picks up the coins from the ground.

Wow, Ya has given me pocket money.

she exclaims.

It's your earnings, not a gift from me.

If you're interested, you could seek employment.

Many little sprites would adore you.

Please do not cling to me.

By Chaiwan insists, "You are not anyone's pet or my subordinate.

You possess your own life, so do not follow me any longer yet.

" The purple umbrella sprite remains undeterred.

With a beaming smile, she responds, "Yeah is both diligent and capable, and she treats me very well.

I enjoy following you.

I wish to become your plant sprite.

By Chia.

Seeing the complete lack of dignity in the purple umbrella sprite feels no sorrow at her words.

The act of tossing the money, albeit slightly insulting, does not bother her in the least.

The sprite appears almost as if seeking refuge.

"I want to sleep now.

Please do not disturb me," she states, retreating into her abode.

as the purple umbrella sprite attempts to follow her inside.

By Chaiwa slams the door and windows shut with force.

The moment the sprite tries to push through, a crackling network of lightning appears on the walls of the small cottage, barring her entry.

The purple umbrella sprite withdraws her hand, glancing at the slightly scorched skin.

It hurts.

Chapter 242.

The frostbitten eggplant, part three.

Unconsciously, she spoke.

Zusan gazed at the inaccessible house, lost in thought.

Until the lights extinguished, there was no further sound.

"Good night.

" "Yeah, yeah, I shall return home now.

See you tomorrow," she murmured softly.

Zusan fluttered her delicate wings.

"Turn away!" her vitality seemingly drained.

She resembled a frostbitten eggplant with a pitiful droop.

Despite her exhaustion, she clutched the coin in her hand, a piece comparable to her size, flitting about intermittently.

When fatigue set in, she would rest and once rejuvenated, continue her flight.

She soared back to the fields, al lighting on the ridges, returning to her true form.

a remarkably robust eggplant seedling.

She nestled a top the eggplant plant to sleep beneath a splendidly large eggplant blossom, its purple hue resembling a bifurcated trumpet.

Yeah, it was extraordinary.

She gazed at the round moon holding a thin coin aloft.

Imprinted upon it was the insignia of the temple, declaring it a spirit coin worth 50 yuan from the dark empire mint.

The coin gently descended, enveloping her like a blanket.

It seemed time to depart.

by Chawiwa observes as Susan safely returning to her true form, dispelling the spell of a lightning mirror and emerging from the cupboard, she rubbed her ears, feeling a significant sense of relief.

Turning on the desk lamp, this time she need not fear Zusan's sight of the light.

The noise kept her at bay by Chowi retrieved her notebook and began to write.

Dark Empire calendar.

Clear weather, no rain, full moon.

A diary fragment dedicated to the moon spirit.

Dear spirit ling, I wonder if you have awakened.

The divine being mentioned that you are undergoing evolution and may remain in slumber for an extended period.

Just how long that might be, I cannot ascertain.

Perhaps 10 years or even a century.

For a fairy, it seems an insufferably brief span.

I wish to share my experiences during this time and I hope to achieve legendary status soon.

Today marks my third day back home and Susan continues to follow me, incessantly noisy, leaving me at a loss for how to manage her.

I have uttered many unkind words today.

Yet I still cannot dissuade her.

At times she displays great wisdom, articulating the divine language remarkably well.

At other moments, she appears quite foolish, seemingly oblivious to my disdain.

She seems devoid of etiquette, honor, or shame, unaware of the concepts of dignity and disgrace, and lacking understanding of everyday matters.

I firmly believe she should be enrolled in school for her compulsory education.

However, when I inquired yesterday, the academyy's instructor informed me that butterfly spirits are considered divine creations exempt from compulsory education and that evolution alone would render them intelligent and formidable.

Teacher Dashu remarked that newly evolved butterfly spirits typically have a lifespan of around 10 years, while royal spirits can attain longevity akin to ours.

The teacher cautioned me not to invest too much emotional energy in her, for excessive concern may lead to sorrow.

Recently, numerous little spirits have wept inconsolably over the demise of their cherished plants and insects, which is an inappropriate response.

Indeed, I find her utterly exasperating.

How could I possibly care too much? The teacher s assertion is surely absurd.

Nevertheless, I confess I do not fully comprehend why her lifespan is so brief.

10 years perhaps is merely a fleeting moment in the realm of fairies.

Although I'm not particularly old myself, I chuckle at the thought.

However, if it were merely a matter of a few years, Zong would thrive wherever she may go, far better than wandering aimlessly with me.

She possesses a captivating beauty, and her voice is melodious.

She would undoubtedly be wellreceived anywhere, far more so than living with a peculiar fairy such as myself.

If she were indeed a true sprite, I am certain she would be adored.

Alas, I am not.

I am a cruel and profit-driven fairy.

By Chaiwat down her notebook and gazed out the window at the moonlight.

After the moon had settled into slumber, it seemed she had no companions left.

As a dimminionive fairy resembling a sprite, she had grown accustomed to solitude.

As for Zong, for some inexplicable reason, her image flashed in by Chayu's mind, prompting her to shake her head vigorously in an attempt to dispel the vision.

Suddenly, the sky rumbled and the ground trembled beneath her.

Baiwa leaned against the windowsill to peer outside.