Survival Guide After Accidentally Kissing a Demon - Chapter 164

Chapter 164

The Constance Family carriage appeared in the town under a warm, golden sun.

The light spilled over the red-tiled roofs and the slightly yellowed walls of the small town. A few kittens curled up lazily on the mats in front of the post office, squinting their eyes at the young girl as she approached.

Beili stepped around them and entered the post office. Seeing the clerk come forward to greet her, she withdrew the letter addressed to Lance from her Spatial Bracelet.

Actually, she had been conflicted the entire way here-perhaps she should have prepared a new one. Compared to her previous standards, this letter wasn’t quite refined enough.

Just as she stood there holding the letter, hesitating, her hand suddenly felt light.

A cat.

That was right-a cat had approached without warning and snatched the letter away.

Perhaps it had leaped from a nearby wicker chair, or maybe from a table… Regardless, the cat bit down on the letter in her hand and bolted out of the post office.

Encountering such a situation for the first time, the post office staff stood frozen in place. Beili was also stunned for a moment, but once she reacted, she turned and sprinted out of the post office.

The town streets were bustling with people, as lively as ever. Her eyes narrowed as her deep red gaze swept quickly through the moving figures. Beili spotted the cat carrying her letter, heading toward the blacksmith shop where sparks were flying and hammers were clanging.

She was about to blow a fuse.

With a wave of her hand, she instantly summoned several Morpho Butterflies with blue-green wings. Receiving a faint trace of Mana, the Morpho Butterflies fluttered their wings, trailing wisps of black mist as they flew rapidly toward the fleeing cat.

Before long, they had retrieved the cat along with the letter. The cat didn’t struggle at all, nor did it make a sound.

As Beili approached, she noticed the kitten’s eyes were vacant, looking as if it were being controlled by someone. Just as she began connecting the events of the past few days in her mind and forming a suspicion, a sudden gust of wind whipped past.

Dust from the ground swirled into the air. Amidst the dust, the roadside stalls shook slightly, and the vendors scrambled to protect their goods. This gust of wind carried a hint of the color of ink.

Beili instinctively squinted. When the wind died down and she opened her eyes again, she found that the letter in the kitten’s mouth had been blown away as well.

She watched helplessly as the letter flew toward the nearby blacksmith shop. In a bizarre, guided flight path, it dived straight into the glowing red furnace.

Beili: “…”

This was beyond ridiculous.

Beili blinked. Then, she immediately reached a conclusion-the only fellow who would do something like this was that detestable sheep, Ashera.

That Stinky Goat hadn’t figured out how to reply to her, yet he was repeatedly messing with the letters she sent to Lance!

At that moment, the grey-haired, red-eyed girl stood in the middle of the road, her face as dark as the bottom of a pot, her teeth grinding audibly.

The bustling town street suddenly fell silent; almost no one was willing to speak loudly at this time. Even the birds perched neatly on the red tiles stopped chirping.

Most people on the street kept their heads down and their gazes lowered, pretending to be busy with their own business-though, of course, most of them had seen exactly which carriage this beautiful young lady had stepped out of.
Consequently, everyone could guess her identity.

After all, the land, shops, and stalls in the town of Butterfly Valley were all rent-free. The residents desperately wanted to continue living here in peace.

So-if that young lady wanted to pick a random passerby to vent her frustrations on, they would turn a blind eye and willingly serve as her punching bag.

After a moment of brooding, the grey-haired, red-eyed girl finally took a deep breath. She turned back toward the carriage and gave a cold command.

“Back to the castle.”

The Constance Family carriage did not head straight back to the castle after leaving the town.

Halfway there, the girl, having calmed down inside the carriage, suddenly changed her mind.

She instructed the coachman to head into the valley first; she wanted to pick some flowers.

Miss Bartholomew had been picking flowers for three days now.

The coachman only remembered this fact when the carriage came to a halt in the valley.

The girl stepped down from the carriage and walked across the ground covered in thick moss.

Nameless wildflowers dotted the inconspicuous corners like tiny stars.

Butterflies danced in the air.

Their wings fluttered silently, shimmering with magnificent colors under the sunlight.

It wasn’t called Butterfly Valley for nothing; these creatures were the one thing the place never lacked.

Lost in thought, the girl’s anger seemed to have mostly dissipated. She even began to hum a few cheerful melodies.

Meanwhile.

A thin wisp of black mist sat on a high branch alongside the small birds.

The birds didn’t know what this thing was.

They only knew that when the girl picking flowers below picked up a small pink blossom and suddenly muttered, “Oh, this one is pretty, he’ll definitely like it”-

The black mist would suddenly grow dense.

From a thin wisp, it thickened and expanded, turning into a dark mass.

Like a rain cloud, it even dripped thick, ink-like droplets onto the branch, scaring the birds into a frenzy of chirping.

Unable to drive it away, they were forced to spread their wings and fly off one by one.

The girl on the ground noticed nothing.

She picked many flowers and washed them by the spring before returning to the carriage.

As the coachman cracked his whip and the carriage drove back to Constance Castle, the mass of black mist clung to the roof.

When the girl returned to the castle and went to her room to begin the busy task of pressing the flowers into specimens, the black mist hid beneath her window, listening to the sounds of her tinkering inside.

Once this latest letter was finished, the girl neither ordered a servant to deliver it nor put it away.

She simply left it on the desk.

She placed it in the most conspicuous spot, completely unconcealed.

By now, the girl had bathed and was lying under her covers. Following her usual routine, she picked up a random storybook and flipped through it for a while. Once drowsiness washed over her, she closed the book, pulled up the quilt, and quickly fell asleep.

The night grew deep.

The night wind blew the window curtains open, and moonlight spilled through the gap onto the somewhat cluttered desk.

A mass of thick black mist drifted in through the window, appearing silently on the tabletop.

Then, as if lifted by an invisible hand, the letter was picked up. The envelope was torn open and dropped to the floor.