Miss Witch, even if we're poor, we can't sell ourselves!

On Sunday, I slept through the night until the afternoon.

The light filtering through the curtains slowly shifted from the cool white of the morning to the warm gold of the afternoon, creeping from the head of the bed to the foot, finally settling on her toes sticking out from under the covers, warming her five round toes.

She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a while, still half asleep.

Today seems to be Sunday.

Last night before going to bed, Teacher Biechenye assigned her an exercise to feel the vitality of life. She practiced with a small succulent in her room until midnight before finally falling asleep contentedly.

As a result, I slept until now.

She turned over, pulled her phone out from under her pillow, and saw the time on the screen was 14:37.

Miya blinked, then sat up abruptly, the blanket slipping off her shoulders and piling onto her knees.

"...2:30 PM?!"

She instinctively threw back the covers, preparing to rush out of bed, but froze when her feet touched the floor.

Wait, it seems like we're off today.

As Flores said yesterday, to cool things down and prevent old customers from being driven away, all employees should take a few days off.

She paused for a moment with one leg on the bed and the other on the ground, then collapsed back onto the bed as if her bones had been removed, letting out a long breath towards the ceiling.

She lingered in bed for a while before slowly getting up and slipping on her slippers to go downstairs.

The kitchen was very quiet. Korika and Zimilu were probably still asleep. They had been playing games until 3 a.m. last night. Before leaving, Korika was lying on the sofa, shouting for another game.

There was a note stuck on the refrigerator door.

"The chocolate cake is on the second tier, the milk is in the refrigerator. I'm going to run some errands and will be back tonight."

Miya placed the cake on the bar, poured a glass of milk, and sat alone on a high stool, swinging her legs which couldn't reach the ground, quietly enjoying this belated brunch.

After finishing her meal, she washed the dishes and went back to her room to change her clothes.

Today I'm wearing those pajamas with a frog pattern. The frog's eyes are drawn very big, making it look a bit silly.

She turned around in front of the mirror and then took out a light jacket from the closet.

After thinking for a moment, I put my coat back in and changed into a thinner sun-protective shirt.

Today she wants to buy a new, oversized windbreaker that can keep out the rain and the wind, and has enough pockets to hold all her odds and ends.

She wanted one after being followed in the alley before, because it would be convenient to run around in, unlike a hoodie whose hood always gets blown off by the wind.

She put the bank card in her pocket, pushed open the carved wooden door of the bar, and stepped into the afternoon sunlight.

The old town was more lively than usual on Sunday.

A street performer was playing a stringed instrument that I couldn't name, next to the fountain. The music flowed like water across the stone pavement.

Several little girls ran past her, holding up glowing cotton candy, their laughter echoing all the way.

Miya walked along the familiar alley towards the clothing store.

There was no wind today, and the warm sunlight fell on her fluffy short hair, baking each stray strand into a pale golden feather.

She walked past the bakery she frequented, past the old wall completely covered by glowing vines, and past the central fountain with a suspended crystal ball.

Then she paused slightly.

That feeling is back again.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and a sense of alertness spread from the base of her spine upwards, as if someone had placed a thin layer of ice on her back.

She continued walking forward at her original pace, casually taking out her phone from her pocket, pretending to check the navigation, but actually using the reflection of the screen to glance at the street scene behind her.

A figure appeared about ten meters behind her, with black hair and a slender build. The figure walked slowly, but turned the corner when she did.

Miya put her phone back in her pocket, her expression unchanged, but she quickened her pace slightly.

She turned into the narrow alley next to her, then pushed open the wooden door of the clothing store she knew best in the middle of the alley, and the doorbell rang crisply.

There were no other customers in the store.

The boss was a round-faced witch who was dozing off at the counter, but he immediately perked up when he saw her come in.

Before being kidnapped by Reminal, Miya once used her eloquence and cuteness to bargain down a coat priced at 800 to 350. That battle is still a topic of conversation that the boss enjoys talking about.

"Oh, the little bargain hunter is here again?"

"Boss, a windbreaker, the biggest one, the more pockets the better."

The shopkeeper quickly rummaged through the shelves, his fingers running over various fabrics, unzipping zippers to check the inner pockets, pinching the thickness of the waterproof layer, and finally pulling out a dark gray and light gray color-blocked windbreaker from the far corner shelf.

The material is crisp but not stiff, made of waterproof fabric, with a hidden large pocket on the inside, and an adjustable drawstring along the edge of the hood.

She took the clothes off the hanger and held them up to Mi Ye; the hem of the clothes covered her knees.

"...Isn't it too big?"

Mi Ye asked.

"What do you mean 'big'? Do you even know what oversized is? It fits you perfectly, you look cute."

The boss remained unfazed.

Miya squinted, opened her phone to check the price of the same product, and then held it up in front of the shopkeeper.

"It sells for 280 online, but you've marked it 360."

"That was a promotion! The promotion is over!"

"Your online store page is still up, isn't it? There are still three days left until the promotion ends."

The boss's imposing manner visibly weakened.

Ultimately, the jacket was sold for 260 yuan.

Miya also bought a long-sleeved undershirt, which made up a total of 100 yuan. The shopkeeper folded and bagged her clothes while muttering, "I won't let you in next time."

Mi Ye grinned as she took the windbreaker out of the bag and put it on.

The hat was huge; it only revealed half of my face when I put it on, and the hem covered my mid-thigh. It was indeed a bit too big, but it looked surprisingly cute on me.

Does anyone know why? A short person wearing a big trench coat looks both handsome and cute.

She looked in the mirror, turned around, and nodded in satisfaction.

When she walked out of the clothing store, she had completely forgotten about being followed.

The sun was shining brightly in the alley. Several children were drawing magic circles with chalk against the wall, while an orange cat lay on the windowsill, sunbathing with its belly up.

She squatted on the steps at the alley entrance, placed her phone on her knees, opened the map navigation, and wanted to see if there were any other stores nearby that sold portable fill lights for live streaming.

The mini fill light I had last time was sufficient, but the brightness was still a bit lacking, and the details would be blurry when drawing in the sketchbook.

The little loading circle on the map spun around and around. She kept her head down, and the large hood of her windbreaker shrouded her entire face in shadow.

Just then, a pair of white sneakers stopped in front of her, the toes pointing directly at the direction she was squatting.

Miya's gaze moved upwards from the white sneakers.

She wore light-colored jeans, a black hoodie, a black jacket, and shoulder-length black hair with a few strands of dark blue highlights that shimmered with a dark sheen in the sunlight.

The girl in front of me had very fair skin, delicate and refined features, and deep brown eyes with a misty, aloof quality, making her look like someone who had stepped out of a history book.

Miya's first reaction was that this person was kind of good-looking.

My second thought was, is this the same person who was following me earlier?

Before she could speak, the black-haired girl spoke first, her voice also soft.

"How much per night?"

"?"

Miya was stunned.

Her mind raced as she tried to understand the meaning of the sentence.

Then her face turned as red as a tomato in a flash, she ripped off her hat, and jumped up.

"What...what did you say?!"

The black-haired girl blinked as she watched her irritated appearance, her expression remaining unchanged.

"So it wasn't that kind of job after all. What I mean is, I want to hire you to pretend to be my girlfriend and come home with me for a meal. Ten thousand Loren, transfer now. My name is Luyue."

"……what?"

Miya, halfway through the explosion, was stuck in mid-air with her mouth agape.

Then the rational part of her brain finally came back online. She took a deep breath and looked at the black-haired girl in front of her with suspicion.

"Explain yourself first. What dinner party? What do you mean by pretending to be your girlfriend? Why did you contact me? There are so many people on the street, why did you choose someone squatting in an alleyway?"

"You look funny, and you stand out by squatting at the alley entrance."

Lu Yue's tone was as indifferent as if she were reading a textbook.

Miya didn't know whether this was a compliment or a criticism.

"Ten thousand Loren, I can pay in advance."

Lu Yue took out her phone from her pocket, opened the transfer interface, and hovered her finger above the screen.

Give me the account.

Miya hesitated for a moment, then gave out her account number.

The notification tones sounded almost simultaneously.

[Received 10,000 Loren]

She took out her phone and stared at the number on the screen several times to make sure the decimal point was correct and that the currency unit was Loren, not Zimbabwean currency.

Then she looked up, her expression serious.

"But I can't trust you completely. What if you're a wanted criminal?"

See for yourself.

Lu Yue turned her phone screen towards her. It showed the official website of Qianjing Group, the executive introduction page, and the last column read "Heir" with a photo of his ID next to it.

Black hair, a cold face, a pressed-down mouth, and a hint of impatience in his eyes.

Miya looked at the photo, then at the person in front of her, then at the photo again, and silently returned the phone.

She knew about Qianjing Group; it was the company that developed "Witch Showdown," Bellavita's largest gaming conglomerate, which also had several phenomenal titles.

When their new game launched, the servers crashed for two whole days due to overload. During those two days, MikuFans was filled with screenshots of the queue screen and fan-made content featuring people cursing.

"So you're the kind of girl who's from a super rich family, pressured by your family to get married, and you got impatient and just grabbed someone off the street to pretend to be your girlfriend to get by?"

"The summary is very accurate."

Lu Yue nodded slightly.

"And judging from your expression, you've already agreed."

(Tip: This is just a pretend girlfriend situation; the two will not have any intimate relationship.)