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

The moment Miya pushed open that heavy wooden door, the word "luxury" flashed through her mind, but she realized that those two words were far from enough.

A huge crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the ceiling, each facet reflecting a warm yellow light overhead, with scattered golden spots of light filling the entire hall.

The dark hardwood floor was covered with an intricately patterned carpet, and her little leather shoes sank halfway into it, as if she were walking on clouds.

The booths against the wall are all made of dark leather sofas, and each table is so polished that it reflects the light of the crystal chandelier. On each table is a small vase with a single flower, and water droplets still cling to the stem.

As Miya was carried through the hall by Reminal, her eyes darted around uncontrollably, and then she discovered a startling fact.

Everyone here is a little witch, and they're all very beautiful.

Two witches sat at the table by the window. One wore a dark green off-shoulder dress, her long, dark green hair reaching her waist. She was holding a wine glass and chuckling softly, the wine clinging to the glass in a beautiful arc.

Another person with short hair, wearing a sharp white suit, leaned back on the sofa with his legs crossed, one hand resting on the back of the sofa, and the other twirling a magic quill pen.

Further away, more witches gathered in twos and threes. Some were talking in hushed tones, some were staring blankly at a glass of wine, and some were flipping through a moving magic magazine, where the illustrations were staging a miniature drama.

Is this heaven?

Then she realized another fact.

He was being carried by a beautiful young lady, a witch, as they walked through the center of the bar.

Miya buried her face in Reminal's shoulder.

She was so ashamed she was about to die; if she looked up again, her head would probably be steaming.

Reminal felt the warmth on her shoulder, looked down at the little one in her arms, and saw two red ears peeking out from her light golden short hair.

"...What are you being shy about?"

"no."

"His ears turned red."

"I'm so nervous."

"You seem to be lying down quite comfortably."

"It's all because you insisted on holding me!"

Reminal clicked her tongue, too lazy to say anything more.

The little thing in my arms was ridiculously light, almost effortless to hold, but it was incredibly annoying when it struggled. Now it was quiet and well-behaved, except its ears were a bit too red.

She walked across the hall expressionlessly toward the bar.

Behind the bar stood a witch wiping wine glasses. Her hair was a light purple color, just reaching her shoulders, with the ends slightly curled inwards.

She wore a white shirt with a black vest, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing her slender wrists.

Her features are delicate but not ostentatious, and her deep purple eyes droop slightly at the corners, giving her a naturally approachable and friendly appearance.

The other person was intently wiping a wine glass, drawing circles on the glass with a white cloth.

Then he looked up and saw Reminal, and the sailor-uniformed girl Reminal was holding in her arms. He almost dropped the wine glass in his hand.

The purple-haired witch caught the cup in mid-air with remarkable skill, placed it steadily on the bar counter, then laid down the white cloth and emerged from behind the bar counter.

She looked Reminal up and down and Miya in her arms, her expression undergoing a series of complex changes.

"Reminal, when did you have a daughter?"

"?"

The air fell silent instantly.

Reminal's expression also cracked.

Miya peeked through the gap in her shoulder and noticed that on the young lady's face, which always seemed cold and calm, there were patterns resembling ice that had been smashed by a hammer.

"...What did you say?"

Reminal's voice was squeezed out through clenched teeth.

Zimi crossed her arms, tilted her head to one side, and her malicious smile grew wider and wider.

She took a step closer, her gaze sweeping back and forth between Miya and Reminal twice, before nodding firmly.

"She looks to be in her early twenties—no, it's hard to guess a witch's age, she could be in her thirties, anyway—"

She stretched out a finger and poked Miya's exposed calf.

"This face shape, this height proportion, it's like your childhood photos—hmm."

Reminal covered Zimilu's mouth with a slap.

"I don't!"

Reminal's voice trembled.

Zimi Lu's mouth was covered, but her deep purple eyes curved into two crescent moons, clearly showing that she was not intimidated at all.

She gently pulled her hand away from Reminal's, took a step back, and spread her hands out, making a "okay, okay, I won't say anything" gesture, but the curve of her lips clearly said, "I've seen through everything."

"And who is this?"

Zi Mi Lu's gaze fell on Mi Ye, her tone as gentle as if she were coaxing a child.

Reminal opened her mouth.

I can't continue.

What should she say?

I was told this little scammer was a Vtuber, and I spent tens of thousands of yuan on her online, thinking the person behind the avatar was a handsome silver-haired guy. But when I went to check her out, I found out she was just a little girl. I originally wanted to beat her up, but she cried so pitifully that I decided to take her back to the bar and have her work pay off my debt.

She looked around and realized that all the witches in the bar were watching them.

At the table by the window, the green-skirted witch holding a wine glass froze in mid-air, the liquid in the glass swaying slightly.

The short-haired, suit-clad witch lowered her crossed legs, leaned forward, and looked this way.

The witch who was playing the piano also stopped playing, turned around on the piano bench, and still had her hands hovering above the keys.

Everyone's ears perked up.

Zimi Lu's question, "When did you have a daughter?" was like a bomb thrown into a calm lake, and ripples are spreading in all directions from the bar.

Reminal's lips twitched slightly. She took a deep breath, preparing to explain things in the most concise way possible.

Then the little one in her arms started to struggle and then lifted its head off her shoulder.

Her light-colored eyes were brimming with tears, the tip of her nose was tinged with a thin layer of red, her lower lip was trembling slightly, and teardrops that had not yet dried clung to her eyelashes, refracting fragments of light under the crystal chandelier.

Reminal looked down and saw that face, and her heart skipped a beat.

Wait!

wrong!

"Mother!!"

Mi Ye spoke, her voice trembling with tears.

"I'm sorry! Please don't sell me, okay? qwq—!"

A tear slid down her cheek from the corner of her eye.

Reminal's mind went blank.

The white cloth in Zimi Lu's hand fell to the ground. She seemed to be petrified, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide open. Her previous calm and wicked smile shattered.

The entire room was silent for a full seven or eight seconds, and then it completely erupted.

"What did she say?!"

"Sell it? What do you mean by selling it?!"

"Isn't the Reminal family noble? Why would nobles sell their children?!"

"Only nobles sell their children! Arranged marriages and all that—look at those big families, they do it all the time—"

"My God, what an earth-shattering revelation!"

At the table by the window, the green-skirted witch finally lost her grip on the wine glass, and it clattered onto the table.

"Everyone, please be quiet! Please be quiet, I'm recording!!"

A witch with twin ponytails sprang up from a corner booth and swiftly pulled out a screen, aiming it at the bar.

Her voice sounded extremely excited, and her face was full of the expression that said, "It'll be worth dying for this time."

"Who wants peace and quiet? How can something like this be quiet?!"

"My goodness, Reminal's family is actually—"

"Hey, has anyone contacted the Bellavita Daily?"

Amidst the chaos, the short-haired witch in the white suit stood up.

She strode up to Reminal and put her hands on her hips.

Her gaze lingered on Reminal's face for a moment before shifting to Miya, where she saw her light-colored eyes filled with tears and her pitiful expression.

"Reminal".

Her voice wasn't loud, but it drowned out the noise of the entire room.

"Explain your relationship with this child."

He paused for a moment.

"Are you involved in human trafficking?"

Reminal's character was beautifully shattered just like that.

She opened her mouth.

The witches in the bar had completely surrounded her, their chattering questions surging in from all directions like waves crashing against her.

Some people forgot to put down their wine glasses halfway up, some people's magic notebooks were frantically recording data, some people were standing on the sofa to see more clearly, and the light from the crystal chandelier shimmered on everyone's faces.

She had attended countless aristocratic banquets and faced countless tricky social questions since childhood, but never before had she felt like she wanted to disappear into a crack in the ground as much as she did now.

And the one who started it all is now nestled peacefully in her arms.

Miya buried her face in Reminal's shoulder again, unable to suppress the smile on her lips.