The Invincible Young Master

Zhao Shi stood in front of one of the city's most renowned wineries, its elegant façade hinting at the quality of its products.

"How many barrels of wine do you have stored?" Zhao Shi asked the owner, his voice steady and direct.

The owner, a stout man with a well-groomed beard, looked up from his ledger, surprised by the question.

"We have around thirty barrels that are properly aged and ready for sale," he replied, curiosity piqued.

"I'll take everything," Zhao Shi declared without hesitation.

"Everything?" The owner's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Yes,"

The owner knew Zhao Shi as his regular buyer. Hearing him buying such a large quantity, he couldn't help but ask. "What's the occasion?"

"Young master said it'll be necessary for the journey back," Zhao Shi explained, maintaining his calm demeanor.

"And where is the young lord traveling to?"

"We're leaving the city," Zhao Shi answered bluntly, not offering any more details.

"The young lord is leaving…" the shopkeeper echoed, his voice trailing off as he processed the information. The owner, of course, knew the young master Zhao Shi was talking about.

Seeing the owner in a daze, Zhao Shi pressed on. "Where is the storage?"

"We'll deliver to the house," the owner suggested, still grappling with the scale of the purchase.

"No need," Zhao Shi insisted. "I'll take them myself. Take me to the storage."

"You alone?" The owner's doubt was evident, but seeing Zhao Shi, he nodded. "Sure, follow me."

The owner led Zhao Shi to a large, dimly lit room at the back of the winery. The space was lined with rows of wooden barrels, the rich scent of fermented grapes hanging heavy in the air. Just a whiff was enough to make one feel slightly intoxicated.

"These are the thirty sets of aged barrels," the owner said, pointing to a section of the room. Each barrel was marked with the winery's crest, signifying its quality and heritage.

Zhao Shi stepped forward and extended his left arm. A small bracelet on his wrist gleamed slightly. As he made a subtle motion, the barrels began to disappear one by one, vanishing into thin air as if they had never existed.

The owner rubbed his eyes in astonishment. He had heard tales of people with magical abilities, those who could make objects vanish before one's eyes, but he had never witnessed it firsthand. This display of power left him speechless.

With the barrels now stored away, Zhao Shi retrieved a large pouch from within his robes. The pouch, heavy with gold coins, jingled softly as he handed it to the still-dazed owner.

"Here," Zhao Shi said simply, placing the pouch in the owner's trembling hands.

The owner stared at the pouch, its weight a tangible proof of the unbelievable transaction that had just taken place. He nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, and watched as Zhao Shi turned and left the winery, disappearing into the bustling streets outside.

…

Spark stood in the courtyard of their residence, a wistful expression on his face. The sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone yard, creating an atmosphere tinged with nostalgia.

"Time has passed so quickly; it's already been three months," Spark muttered, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

"The carriage is ready, young master," Zhao Shi's voice broke through his reverie, drawing his attention back to the present.

Inside the now sparsely furnished house, Spark took one last look around. The once vibrant home was stripped of its decorations and personal touches, everything neatly packed away into Zhao Shi's storage bracelet. It felt like closing a chapter in a book.

Spark's three-month-long exile was ending today. He was finally returning to his home, but a strange emptiness settled in his heart as he prepared to depart from a place that had become unexpectedly significant to him.

Spark had initially come here as part of his punishment, a banishment that had seemed endless. However, over time, this city had grown on him. The people, the streets, and the small moments of drama had woven themselves into the fabric of his life.

"Let's go," Yuna's gentle voice sounded, taking Spark's arm and guiding him towards the door. She could see he was reluctant to leave, still dazed by the emptiness of their home.

As they settled into the carriage, Spark leaned back in his seat, his eyes half-closed.

"Each moment lived without a thrill is not living," he said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else.

Zhao Shi, sitting outside, looked puzzled. "I do not understand, young master."

"One day you will, Butler Zhao. No need to overthink it," Spark replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

The carriage began to move, rolling through the familiar streets. Spark stared out the window, the passing scenes evoking a sense of melancholy. These were the streets he had walked daily, the faces of people he had come to recognize.

"Young master can always visit this place whenever you want. Why do you look so dejected?" Yuna asked, concerned.

"This will probably be the last time the three of us come here together," he said softly.

Sensing the need to lighten the mood, Yuna quickly changed the subject. "Did young master say farewell to those drunk bunch?"

Spark chuckled, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"I did go to my usual drinking place to say farewell, but why did those folks seem so happy to hear I was leaving?" he mused, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

Yuna couldn't help but laugh, stifling the sound with her hand. "They must be happy that young master is returning home."

As the carriage was moving, Zhao Shi, who was controlling the reins of the carriage, noticed a familiar figure on the street. For a brief moment, a slight smile broke his usually stoic expression.

It was the shabby man they had encountered a few weeks ago, now transformed. He was no longer begging on the streets. Instead, he had set up a small stall at a corner, selling fresh vegetables. His wife, who had once appeared frail and sickly, was now standing beside him, her cheeks flushed with health as she helped manage the stall.

Zhao Shi watched them for a moment, feeling a quiet sense of satisfaction, and continued forward.

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