My older sister is a villainous rich girl.

As a result, Wayne still relayed the matter to Duke Elliott.

"That's how it is. I don't know what His Highness was thinking, and why he was hesitant to say it to my face."

He tried his best to detach himself from the narrative so as not to interfere with Eliot's judgment.

To this, Elliott simply said "I know" and then offered no further comment.

"Dad—" Chris's voice came shortly after.

The moment he heard his beloved daughter call out, a smile spread across Elliott's face, and he got up and walked to the study door: "What is it, Chris?"

His tone was exceptionally gentle.

Chris held up a glass of mysterious orange beverage, presenting it to Elliot like a treasure. "Daddy, look! This is my newly developed special orange juice recipe!"

"Oh my, our Chris is absolutely amazing!" Duke Elliott exclaimed with delight, taking the drink and pretending to take a sip before insincerely praising, "It's delicious! Make some for Mother too!"

"Mommy's already had her drink," Chris blinked her big eyes and asked cutely, "What are Daddy and Wayne talking about?"

"It's nothing, just checking his homework." Elliot's act of lying to the child was very natural. "You guys go play."

So Chris jogged over, smiling, and pulled him outside. "Wayne, come see the new clothes I designed for Little White."

Wayne had initially thought she had actually made some bizarre clothes and wondered if he should advise her to let the dog go.

But to his surprise, as soon as Chris left the study, she asked him with a serious expression what he and Elliott were talking about.

"It's about the playwright Pokland..."

Originally, he had no intention of deliberately hiding it, and Wayne told Chris what Gavin had said to him.

Chris listened to every word, then muttered to herself, "Actually, I've heard that Pokran is a very handsome older man."

Wayne said, "Miss, isn't your focus a bit off?"

"In that case, why don't we go and meet him ourselves?" Chris suddenly said.

Wayne said in surprise, "But Father hasn't decided whether to provide him with shelter yet."

"Who cares about all that! Let's see them first and see what happens."

Hey, you're just after his looks, aren't you? You must be!

Without hesitation, Chris took Wayne and, under the guise of going out for fun, rushed to the market theater to meet Pokran.

Recently, this small theater has been completely booked by Pokran, with his plays being performed every day, and the atmosphere is getting more and more exciting each day.

The theater staff, who initially intended to turn them away, exchanged glances after learning that they were from the Winchester family, and then led them backstage to the studio.

The weather outside the theater was slightly cool, but once you entered the backstage area, it felt a bit stuffy and the lighting wasn't very good.

"Commander, the Wenche family has come to visit."

The young man who brought them in gently knocked on the wooden door of the innermost workroom.

No response.

"Commander?" The young man increased his pounding, banging hard on the door.

"Hmm... I'm here, please come in." A voice that sounded like someone who had just woken up rang out.

The wooden door was slowly pushed open, and Chris went straight into the room, with Wayne following closely behind.

A beam of light peeked in from outside the door, quietly illuminating a small area of ​​space.

Books and papers were scattered everywhere, leaving no room to even step.

With a soft "click," the candlelight in the room was lit. "Sorry... I accidentally fell asleep. Please stay put, I'll be right back to clean up."

"Is this Pokran?" Wayne sized him up.

His clothes, which he had worn for many years, were a bit faded from washing. His hair was messy and he looked haggard, but this did not detract from his handsome appearance at all.

He has a broad forehead, a high nose bridge, and deep-set eyes.

Even though he is no longer young, he certainly lives up to the rumors of being a handsome man.

"You're Pokran?" Chris asked.

Pokran paused slightly as he looked at the little girl dressed in aristocratic attire.

"Yes, it is I."

After lighting the candles, Pokran hurriedly picked up the manuscripts scattered on the floor.

Wayne was about to help him pick up some when Pokran's expression changed, and he shouted, "Wait!" before rushing over and snatching the manuscript from Wayne's hand.

"I'm sorry, but please don't touch these as they are original manuscripts, just to be on the safe side."

...Since it's so important, please get everything ready before inviting us in!

"It's alright." Wayne smiled understandingly.

It's called tidying up, but it's really just stacking them up and piling them in another corner.

But after he cleaned it up, he finally managed to free up a small space where he could stretch out and move around.

"Please sit down, please sit down..." Pokran patted the dusty long sofa.

Chris frowned but did not sit down.

"I am Chris Wincher," she said. "I am here on behalf of my father, Duke Elliot Wincher, to discuss a deal with you."

Both Pokran and Wayne showed surprise.

"What deal?" Pokran asked.

Chris glanced back at the young man still standing at the door.

"Bob, you can go ahead and get busy. Remember to close the door behind you."

Pokran dismissed the unrelated personnel.

"Now you can speak, miss?"

"Excuse me for being blunt, but you are in a very dangerous situation." Chris's small face showed no fear whatsoever.

Pokran wasn't angered by her alarmist words, but instead chuckled self-deprecatingly, saying, "The journey of life is a war that lasts until death; when is there a time without danger?"

"The danger I'm referring to is the danger that you could very well be killed in public tomorrow."

Pokran's pupils contracted.

"Mr. Pokran must understand that the people of the church now wish they could get rid of you as soon as possible, and even the king probably cannot protect your safety."

With her hands in her pockets, she said in a mocking tone, "Otherwise, you wouldn't be holed up in this ordinary, even somewhat shabby, theater; you would be a guest of honor of the King."

Pokran looked at Chris silently without saying a word.

"Miss Chris, what do you want from me?" he asked softly after a long pause. "All I have is a pen."

"What I need is your pen," Chris said earnestly.

She took a booklet from her handbag and handed it to Pokran.

Pokran took it, glanced at it, and looked surprised.

"This is not difficult for you at all, but it can bring you a safe creative environment. The choice is entirely up to you."

Pokran rubbed his head in anguish and said, "Can you give me some time? I need to think about it carefully."

"Sure, but if your delay causes other unforeseen circumstances, you'll have to bear the consequences yourself."

After saying that, Chris turned and left with a very nonchalant air.

Wayne glanced at Pokran, then at Chris's retreating figure, and quickly followed, looking completely bewildered.

Upon exiting the theater, the Duke's carriage was still waiting at the entrance.

"Chris, what was that pamphlet you just handed him?" Wayne asked curiously.

"You should call me 'older sister'." Chris always patiently reminded her about the proper way to address her.

But she quickly forgot about that and whispered excitedly, "That thing—it's a sponsorship advertisement!"

"Wayne, I'm going to be rich!" Chris grabbed Wayne and shook him from side to side, laughing out loud while sitting in the carriage.

A jewel-adorned carriage slowly drove along the smooth cobblestone road, leaving behind a series of strange, barbell-like sounds, "Oh ho ho ho~".