High School of Demon Hunting

67: Chapter 67 The Little Boy Selling Old Books_1

67 -67 The Little Boy Selling Old Books_1

The sky gradually darkened.

This small street seemed like a giant dragon just awakened on Gold Mountain, lazily stretching its body.

Colorful gemstones slid off it, sparkling with mesmerizing luster.

Zheng Qing sipped milk tea from the paper cup, carefully avoiding each pearl.

He didn’t enjoy the sticky sensation of these things.

The other new students were listlessly sprawled on the bar, waiting for their orientation guide to return.

Nicholas was queueing for meal numbers at a restaurant nearby.

It was said that this restaurant offered the most cost-effective buffet in the whole of Beta Town, and the seating was always tight.

“Don’t worry!

I’m familiar with the restaurant manager, I’ll get it sorted out for you.”

The first-year veteran confidently left after buying each freshman a cup of milk tea.

Ding Ling, Dang Lang.

Da Da, Da Da.

The clear sound of copper bells mixed with the hoof strikes on the paving stones echoed on the street.

Zheng Qing lifted his head.

A black curled horned sheep, dragging a small four-wheeled wooden cart, was trotting leisurely along the street.

A young boy with a mushroom haircut sat in the cart.

Turning a corner, there was a small open space.

The boy clapped his hands.

The black horned sheep stopped steadily, turning its head to glance at the boy.

The boy jumped off the cart and gently patted the black sheep’s back.

“That little scamp, always sponging off our milk tea.” The uncle at the tea shop laughed while scolding, pulled out a large paper cup from behind the counter, and began to prepare the milk tea.

“Who is he?” Zheng Qing asked with interest.

“Lin Guo, the youngest student in the First College in nearly a century.” The uncle in the tea shop proudly raised his head: “He’s also the pride of Beta Town.”

Xiao Xiao, who had his head buried in his notebook, suddenly looked up and turned to look.

Zheng Qing worriedly glanced at his neck.

The deep red mark pressed out by the edge of the notebook on his cheek was very noticeable.

“He is Lin Guo?” Xiao Xiao opened his notebook and asked hurriedly.

“You don’t know him?” Zheng Qing was a little surprised.

He remembered that on the charter flight, Xiao Xiao had introduced him to the youngest student at First College.

“I just knew about him.” Xiao Xiao rubbed his face, and the deep red marks on his cheeks quickly faded.

The corner of the street.

The boy unloaded the saddle from the black sheep’s back, and propped up the cover of the small four-wheeled cart.

A five-tiered makeshift bookshelf appeared in the cold wind of Beta Town’s streets.

He took a brown leather stool from the cart and placed it in front of the bookshelf.

Then he sat down with his hands on his knees, his back straight as a rod.

“What is he doing?” Zheng Qing was somewhat curious.

“Setting up a stall—it’s obvious.” Xiao Xiao scorned him.

“Has he been setting up his stall for a long time?” Zheng Qing looked towards the owner of the tea shop, ignoring Xiao Xiao’s ridicule.

“For a few years, on and off.”

“That long!

How old is he?

“Ten?

Maybe eleven at most,” the owner nodded confidently.

Zheng Qing looked skeptically at Xiao Xiao.

He remembered this watermelon-headed student introducing two twelve-year-old students this morning, one was Li Meng, the other was Lin Guo.

“Different calendars measure ages differently.

He’s eleven years old, twelve by East-Asian reckoning.” Xiao Xiao analyzed seriously.

“Where’s his family?”

The owner of the tea shop paused his work and sighed deeply:

“His family used to have a Lin Family Shop in Beta Town, where they sold alchemical items.

The shop was an old establishment, well-known in the town.”

“Three years ago, a severe fire demon rampaged through Beta Town, burning more than ten shops along the way.

The Lin Family Shop was destroyed then.

Decades of steadfast business, reduced to rubble in a sweeping fire.”

“His family perished in the fire.

The next morning, the wizards who had been battling the blaze all night found Lin Guo singing amidst the mist-shrouded ruins.”

“Singing?” A freshman nearby couldn’t help but exclaim in a low voice.

“Yes, he was singing ‘The Joyous Little Frog,’ which was very popular at the time.” The tea shop owner leaned against the counter, his gaze filled with confusion as he looked at the distant boy:

“He was sitting pristinely on that child’s cart, ringing the cart’s bell and singing that song over and over again.

The exhausted wizards nearly mistook him for a malevolent spirit.”

Zheng Qing gazed in silence at the boy’s small figure, silently sitting at the roadside ringing his bell, a pang of sourness welling up in his heart at the memory of that sorrowful morning three years ago, the children’s song piercing through the morning mist.

“Where does he live now?”

“The school arranged a dormitory for him.

Don’t dismiss him outright; he’s the youngest student to enter the university in the last three hundred years.

He’s highly gifted in alchemy, a true prodigy.

It’s said that his name appeared in the school’s student register two years ago, but the headmaster felt Lin Guo was too young, so they postponed his enrollment for two years.

During these two years, the school has provided for his living expenses and helped him study various foundation subjects.

It seems he will officially enter school this year.”

“Two years ago…” Zheng Qing felt an even greater wave of sourness washing over him.

A freshman of barely ten years old, in the same year as him.

Indeed, a reality more desperate than despair itself.

“What does he usually sell?” Another freshman followed up.

“Old textbooks and exercise books discarded by senior students; defective potions and talismans made by students; some talisman papers, talisman pens, cinnabar, and herbs.

He also deals in campus gossip and rumours, private commissions from students, recruitment plans promised by school staff, and so on.

His little cart is very famous in the university, and the female students are happy to dispose of these things through him.” The tea shop owner looked at the freshmen with amusement.

“Girls really like him.”

“How fascinating!”

“He’s amazing!”

The newcomers laughed and looked at the distant boy, lavishing praise upon him.

“Excuse me, could you give the young lad this milk tea?” The tea shop’s uncle patted Zheng Qing on the shoulder, sliding a fragrant beverage across the counter from behind it, indicating the child with the stall at the side of the street.

The paper cup was a bit hot to the touch.

Zheng Qing cradled the cup and jogged to where the boy was with his cart.

The boy sat with perfect posture, with a heavy book laid across his knees.

Zheng Qing glanced at the tiny letters in the center of the page header.

“Principles of Alchemy·Third Year College.”

His hand trembled, almost dropping the paper cup.

The boy looked up at Zheng Qing, his eyebrows light and his eyes clear and pure.

“Hi, this is from the owner of the tea shop.” Holding out the paper cup, Zheng Qing presented it to the boy, reminding him, “Be careful, it’s hot.”

The boy closed the heavy book on his lap, placed it aside, and stood up.

He bowed slightly and received the milk tea, setting it on the shelf next to his bookcase.

“Would you mind watching my stall?” The boy lightly pursed his lips, explaining a bit shyly, “I want to go thank the owner of the tea shop.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Zheng Qing waved his hands in dismissal.

Lin Guo meticulously straightened his clothes, adjusted the straps on his shoulders, and headed towards the tea shop.

Zheng Qing noticed the blue backpack he was carrying.

The pattern on the bag featured Mickey Mouse stretching his neck towards the aroma of milk tea.

“This is not for you to drink.” Finding it interesting, Zheng Qing moved the milk tea further away.

The angry Mickey Mouse pattern hopped around on the backpack, baring its teeth.

Unable to resist, Zheng Qing burst into laughter.

The black sheep pulling the cart chewed its cud and turned its head to glance at him.

A look of utter disdain in its eyes.