Survival Guide After Accidentally Kissing a Demon - Chapter 157

Chapter 157

The youth’s shoulders stiffened for a moment before he gave a slight nod.

Beili lifted the bottom of the mask on the youth’s face just a fraction and placed the candy into his parted, thin lips.

Just as she finished adjusting the mask back into place, she heard the sound of teeth lightly crunching the hard candy.

Perhaps the sweet flavor was already spreading through his mouth.

“How is it?” she asked, looking into those hollow golden eyes.

“It’s… an acceptable flavor,” the youth replied from beneath the cold lines of the Silver Mask.

“It’s good that you can accept it. I have a whole jar here, so you can take your time eating them.”

Beili patted the candy jar in his hands, then lowered her head to focus on eating her bread.

With one bite, the aroma of the bread and salty cream instantly boosted her mood.

Countless figures walked past as the two of them sat on the bench, listening as the violinist in Fountain Square switched to a new piece of music.

Eventually, a street painter carrying a painting slowly approached them through the crowd.

Seemingly wanting to sell his work, the painter tipped his hat to the two people sitting quietly on the bench and gave a slight bow. Then, with a face full of smiles, he displayed a painting with a pre-painted background before the young girl.

“The background is already finished. Now I just need to add the two of you to it; it won’t take much of your time,” the painter said in a lighthearted tone.

She glanced at the painting the artist was holding.

It was a small, palm-sized piece of light-colored wood. The artist had already used pigments to paint the bench they were sitting on, as well as the rose vines crawling across the entire wall behind the bench, where deep red and black roses bloomed in overlapping clusters.

The oil painting on the wood was quite beautiful.

However, Beili wasn’t particularly interested in having a portrait done.

On one hand, she wanted to finish her bread in peace; on the other hand, the youth sitting next to her was wearing a mask and couldn’t see the painting anyway, so he likely wouldn’t be interested either.

And most importantly-

She had left the house in a hurry and hadn’t dressed up at all, not even combing her hair.

“No thank you, we don’t need one for now,” she declined softly.

A smile remained on the painter’s face, but a hint of disappointment flickered in his eyes. This was the first time he had been rejected; after all, this sales tactic usually worked perfectly on couples in love. He glanced at the bench the two were sitting on.

Chewing her bread, Beili blinked her red eyes. Seeing the painter’s gaze repeatedly sweeping toward the bench, she realized that this specific spot might be his exclusive territory for selling paintings.

Thus, she waved her hand and stood up, saying to Ashera, “Let’s go, we’ll look around elsewhere.”

Just as she stood up, the youth pulled her back.

While the painter had been pitching to Beili, he had been sitting to the side with his head tilted, listening quietly. His dark, feather-like lashes fluttered as he quickly caught her hand and pulled her back down onto the bench.

Then, he turned to the painter and said, “Fine… you, paint it.”

“Kind sir! Beautiful miss!”

The painter’s eyes lit up, and the smile on his face immediately became genuine.

“Please sit still. I’ll paint the two of you right now; it won’t take much time at all.”

As the painter spoke, he quickly backed away toward his easel, set the wooden piece in place, took a brush from the holder, dipped it in black pigment, and prepared to start.

Then he paused.

The painter looked at the two on the bench with a hesitant expression.

His gaze was mostly fixed on the youth, who was draped in a Black Robe and wearing a mask, with not a single inch of skin showing.

Just as Beili thought the painter was going to ask if Ashera could remove the mask-and she was already prepared to answer for him-the painter asked politely:

“Would you two… like to sit a little closer together?”

The girl let out a bewildered “Ah?” but before she could react, the person beside her had already leaned in naturally. His cold shoulder pressed intimately against hers through their clothing.

“Good, good! Just like that! That’s the only way to truly show the relationship between you two!”
The painter gripped his brush, the paint landing on the wooden slab. Stroke by stroke, using varying shades of color, he brought the likenesses of the two figures to life.

To keep the process from becoming tedious, the painter chatted with them idly as he worked.

“Beautiful lady, you look famished. Oh, please feel free to eat the bread in your hand; it won’t affect my painting at all.”

The girl gave a small hum of affirmation and began to eat.

“If you don’t mind me asking, are you two here on your honeymoon? Rose Town has always been a popular destination for honeymooners.”

The girl chewed her bread and shook her head. After swallowing, she was just about to deny it.

“Yes…”

The youth beside her suddenly answered for her, his voice faint and laced with a hint of a smile.

She nearly choked on the bread in her throat.

Hearing her struggle, the cold lines of the Silver Mask tilted toward her. The youth placed a hand on her back and patted it gently.

By the time she caught her breath, the topic had passed.

However, she had every reason to believe that this guy didn’t even know what a honeymoon was.

…

Nightfall gradually descended.

The nearby pinkish-white streetlamps grew brighter, casting a soft glow over the pair.

By the time the girl finished her bread, the painter had completed the oil painting on the wooden slab. Just as he had promised at the start, it hadn’t taken much time.

On the palm-sized piece of light-colored wood, the background consisted of red and black roses that had darkened in the night. The Black-robed Youth wearing the mask leaned in slightly, taking the initiative to draw closer to the Gray-haired Girl sitting upright beside him in her black dress.

The painter had been patient, not only painting her long, silver-gray curls stroke by stroke but also using an extremely fine brush to outline the silver butterfly patterns on her skirt.

“It’s finished.”

The painter nodded with satisfaction and set down his brush.

He removed the wooden slab and poked his head out from behind the easel, intending to offer a few words of praise to his customers according to the traditions of Rose Town.

Suddenly, he realized that the youth beside the girl had, at some unknown point, transformed into a man with a pair of curved black ram horns on his head.

“Are you sure it’s finished?”

The man raised a sickly pale, gloomy face. His hollow golden eyes ‘looked’ at him with a faint, inscrutable smile.

As soon as he spoke, it was as if a black vortex began spinning before the painter’s eyes. His gaze became dazed and blurred.

“No… it’s not finished…” He shook his head slowly, placed the wooden slab back on the easel, and dipped his brush into black paint once more.

He began to paint the man’s likeness onto the wood, covering the previously painted youth bit by bit.

Seeing this, the Gray-haired Girl beside the man wore a slightly helpless expression.

She grumbled inwardly-

As expected, he’s a troublesome fellow. It’s bad enough I have to coax him twice when he’s unhappy.

Now he has to trouble someone to paint him twice?

…

“This is the liveliest part of Rose Town.”

She glanced at him and asked tactfully, “Is it really okay for you to show your face like this right now?”

Hearing her words, the corners of his lips curled into a graceful arc.

His fingers were pale as they loosely held the glass jar of Butterfly Hard Candy.

His other hand reached behind the girl, his broad palm resting naturally on her shoulder.

“Unless I wish it, no one in this town can see me.”

A deep, heavy voice vibrated from his throat.

“So, there is no need to worry, my dear Little Butterfly.”

The man’s words piqued the girl’s curiosity.

“Then what do other people see right now? Are you transparent? A cloud of black mist? Or the youth wearing the mask?” she asked.

Unfortunately, her curiosity went unsatisfied.

Ashera tilted his head slightly. His long, straight silver hair, tinted by the pink lamplight, brushed gently against his brow and cheek.

Parting his thin lips, he said, “Little Butterfly, I suddenly find myself wanting to know something.”

He lifted the jar filled with Butterfly Hard Candy.

“Would you buy this for anyone else?” he asked in a lazy tone.”