Chapter 428: An Abacus to the Face

Chapter 428: Chapter 428: An Abacus to the Face

While Hector Donovan was reeling in shock at his sister’s non-stop chatter and smooth-talking routine, the audience in their split-screen livestream was cracking up.

[This just proves that women of any age love hearing sweet talk and compliments about how young they look. This woman is no exception.]

[Hahaha, I really didn’t expect it to be this funny when I tuned in. My god, the sister’s approach is so smooth and natural, while my boy Hector is just standing on the side holding a kid, looking like a deer in the headlights.]

[Oof~ Hector, don’t look! It’s a mean comment!]

Most of the viewers in Hector Donovan’s stream were his fans. He had never hidden his doting affection and partiality for his sister. While he never intentionally played it up for publicity, his long-time fans all knew he had a major soft spot for her. Many even joked about wanting to swap souls with his sister.

As a result, these fans readily accepted Arabella Donovan, their idol’s very own sister. Their affection for him even extended to her, viewing her through a natural "little sister" filter.

Having broken the ice, Arabella Donovan didn’t forget the matter at hand. "You looked panicked and frazzled just now," she said. "Did something happen?"

The reminder brought the woman back to her purpose. "My surname is Young; you can just call me Miss Young. I’m in such a rush because I lost the key to my main house and can’t get in. Normally, this wouldn’t be such a panic, but I left a pot of chicken soup stewing on the stove when I came out this morning. If I don’t find the key and get inside to turn off the heat, the soup is going to boil away to nothing."

"That’s a big deal. Miss Young, do you know how to write?"

"I do. Why?"

"How about this: you write a single character, and I’ll help you divine where the key is."

"Well..." Only then did Miss Young notice the Compass in the young woman’s hands. "Are you a fortune-telling master?"

"I wouldn’t call myself a master, it’s just a bit of family knowledge passed down. Our meeting is fated; running into you here is destiny. Don’t worry, whether my divination is accurate or not, I won’t ask you for any money." ’Of course,’ she thought, ’if you feel too bad to accept it for free, I wouldn’t say no to a meal as a thank-you present.’

Miss Young’s brow furrowed. For some reason, her words sounded eerily familiar—just like the lines used by pyramid scheme scammers in TV shows!

Miss Young’s heart leaped into her throat. She was about to refuse when she suddenly saw the crew member with a camera filming behind Arabella Donovan and her brother. A light bulb went off in her head, and it all clicked. "I remember now!" she exclaimed. "You’re the people from the television station, here to film a show in our village today, aren’t you? Does this mean I’m on TV right now?"

As soon as she said it, she seemed to remember something and hurriedly straightened her clothes and smoothed her hair, terrified that this rare appearance on television would capture her looking disheveled.

It wasn’t just Arabella who was amused; even the fans watching the livestream were tickled by the woman’s reflexive primping.

[Yep. For women from our mothers’ generation, the moment you mention TV, they have to stop whatever they’re doing and fix themselves up.]

"That’s right, that’s us! See? The camera’s rolling right here. Miss Young, you don’t have to worry about us trying to trick or scam you at all."

Called out, Miss Young looked embarrassed for a moment, but she quickly recovered with a smile. "It was my mistake for misunderstanding you."

"We’re strangers, after all. It’s only natural for you to have reservations about such a sudden proposal. But now that the misunderstanding is cleared up, would you be willing to let me help? Your chicken soup..."

"Right, right, my chicken soup! My chicken soup... Young lady, please, hurry and help me find my key. If you can really figure out where it is, I’ll be sure to thank you properly."

"You’re too kind, ma’am. I’m just a chivalrous soul who likes to help people. I am absolutely, definitely not after your chicken soup—ah, no, I mean your gratitude. Definitely not after your gratitude. Ahem. How about this: first, write a single character for me. I’ll divine the key’s exact location for you right now so you can get it back and get inside as soon as possible."

Hector Donovan was speechless. ’Sis, you just said the quiet part out loud!’

It wasn’t just Hector; the viewers in the livestream also caught Arabella Donovan’s slip of the tongue and nearly died laughing.

[Here she comes, here she comes with her ulterior motives! Her scheming is so obvious it’s practically hitting me in the face. So she’s really going to force a favor on someone just to mooch a meal, isn’t she? Hector, you never told us your sister was such a social powerhouse!]

[That’s a good thing, at least we don’t have to worry about Hector going hungry while he’s with his sister (wry_smile.jpg).]

Fortunately, Miss Young didn’t notice what Arabella had said. Hearing that she was going to help divine the key’s location, and with the attitude of having nothing to lose, she did as she was told and wrote a character in the young woman’s palm.

"’Kǎi?’"

"Yes, the character for ’armor.’ My son has it in his name."

"I see." Arabella Donovan studied the character for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Miss Young, where is your house? We can talk on the way. The key isn’t here—it’s still at your place."

"Still at my house? How is that possible? I locked the door with my own two hands this morning. I must have brought the key with me."

"Does your house have a yard or a surrounding wall? Any area outside the house proper that’s still on your property would count as your ’place.’"

Miss Young froze. "I do have a yard, yes. The door that locks is inside the house. There’s nothing valuable in the yard, so the outer gate is never locked. Are you saying the key fell somewhere in the yard? I need to get back there and look for it right now."

"We’ll go with you."

"Yes, yes, of course. Everyone, come along."

It was obvious Miss Young was genuinely worried about her chicken soup boiling dry.

Upon learning the key was in her own yard, she led Arabella Donovan and the others back at a light jog. She paid no mind to the group following her and immediately began rummaging through the yard with nimble hands.

Miss Young’s yard was quite large, enclosed by a brick wall. One side of the yard, near the main gate, was paved with red tiles and kept very tidy, with brooms, dustpans, and other daily tools neatly placed against the wall. The other side had been turned into a small private vegetable patch, where various greens were grown for their own consumption.

Arabella Donovan watched as Miss Young searched a corner of the paved area for a long time to no avail, a worried look returning to her face.

She glanced down at her palm, then turned her gaze to the vegetable patch. After estimating the distance from the patch to the main gate, she walked over to its edge and tentatively prodded the damp soil with the tip of her shoe.

A moment later, with a soft CLANG, a dark gold key was nudged out of the dirt and onto the adjacent paved ground, landing with a crisp, clear sound.

Miss Young: "???"

The livestream viewers: "???"