Chapter 388

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Chapter 388: Music Festival

Nighttime.

Bai Wei arrived at the northernmost part of Honshu Island. The night was still bright, yet the lingering sea fog had not yet dissipated.

He rode on a roaring motorcycle, his gaze fixed into the distance. His eyes sparkled with a golden light, as if he were glimpsing the scenery of Hokkaido through the gray tide that blanketed the horizon.

The Tsugaru Strait connects the Sea of Japan to the west and the Pacific Ocean to the east. In the middle of the strait lies the vast Mutsu Bay.

The song Tsugaru Strait Winter Scenery, sung by Sayuri Ishikawa at the New Year’s red and white music festival, became famous. It was featured in a TV drama, describing the scenery seen by the female protagonist as she crossed the Tsugaru Strait on a ferry. Over the decades, the song has been covered by many artists, helping increase the fame of the Tsugaru Strait.

Bai Wei was at Oma-zaki, the northernmost point of Honshu Island, gazing towards Shirakami Cape, the southernmost point of Hokkaido. The straight-line distance between them was around nineteen kilometers, but to get there, he had to take a ferry.

However, the gray tide had blocked the sea area. Unless the weather was exceptionally clear, no ferries would operate when maritime traffic was obstructed. Though the distance was short, the risk of sinking was still present.

Bai Wei, however, didn’t take the ferry. His motorcycle, a gift from Hokusinn Xuanma, had been generously handed over, despite some reluctance. But a good horse needs a good rider, and though Bai Wei wasn’t particularly invested in the motorcycle, nor knew how to repair it, Hokusinn Xuanma still handed it over, adding that if it broke down, Bai Wei should bring it back for repairs.

He then opened the small bag he had with him.

Xue Hanlei had told him that opening this bag would allow him to cross the Tsugaru Strait at any time—even reenacting the Dunkirk evacuation if necessary.

To his surprise, the contents were even more powerful than he had expected. Inside were five magical talismans.

There was also a small note with instructions:

—— Stick it on your feet or any object, and it will turn into ice upon contact with water.

The thought of a certain game and animation crossed Bai Wei’s mind.

He took out two talismans and stuck them on the wheels of his motorcycle—one on the front and one on the back. He then rode towards a beach where the sea was gradually flooding. As soon as the water touched the talismans, it froze into solid ice. He cautiously drove forward, and in about five meters, the entire area within a ten-meter radius turned to ice. The ice was thick enough to support both the motorcycle and him.

Admirals could ride bicycles across the sea; so why couldn’t an emperor ride a motorcycle across it? If anyone could, it was him.

Bai Wei didn’t hesitate, revving the engine as the loud roar of the motorcycle echoed in the quiet night.

The train with its headlights shining vanished into the deep gray fog.

A local resident, walking their dog, widened their eyes in disbelief. They thought they had seen a speeding grandma—but this wasn’t a highway. It certainly wasn’t a grandma, but perhaps a duelist on a ride.

Though twenty kilometers wasn’t much, Bai Wei deliberately slowed down and still reached the other side in half an hour.

He peeled off the magical talismans and noticed that less than one-fifth of their celestial power had been used. He carefully stored them for future use. These talismans seemed high-ranked, worth tens of thousands on the market. In times of need, one talisman would be enough to save his life. Yun Wuxin never skimped on these matters, knowing that if she had made the talismans, she wouldn’t create half-hearted ones to leave him stranded in the middle of the sea.

The motorcycle continued down the highway. Now on Hokkaido, there was still some distance to Hokkaido University. He could easily reach it before dawn, taking his time to enjoy the ride and maybe some late-night snacks along the way.

Once at Hokkaido University, he had no concerns about finding Yagyū Simozi. He believed his little sister was well-behaved, and even if she challenged someone, she would have informed her teacher beforehand.

At this point, Bai Wei had no idea what awaited him in Hokkaido, but he was prepared for anything. If the situation became critical, he wasn’t opposed to carrying his sister and running, leaving everyone else behind.

Bai Wei considered himself a cold-hearted and ruthless tyrant, so he didn’t buy into Demon Cat Yumeko’s claim that once he arrived, he wouldn’t be able to leave.

In his life, he never risked everything for anyone.

You can, but you don’t have to.

Yagyū Simozi woke up in the morning feeling burdened. A deep sigh escaped her as she realized that sweet pain was a part of her life that she couldn’t escape in the short term.

She hadn’t exchanged anything back.

Having learned from yesterday’s experience, Simozi went downstairs first to prepare a simple breakfast. It was just enough to satisfy Guan Caizi, who then showed concern for her “daughter’s” studies. Simozi confirmed the progress, responding, “It’s pretty stable, basically.”

That’s when Guan Caizi hit her on the head with a stern expression, saying, “Don’t aim too high with your ambitions. Speaking too grandly only brings bad luck.”

Simozi’s mood grew complicated. If only she could grant poison milk, she thought, she would have wished for aliens to invade Earth sooner.

But the authority of her mother made her too afraid to say anything further.

After breakfast, with a reminder from Guan Ling, Simozi remembered that she had work to do today.

It was the weekend, and she had a chance to do some odd jobs to gain social experience.

With her million-dollar savings, Simozi had never worked a day in her life. She once tried working at a convenience store but was fired on the spot after beating up three thugs, catching two thieves, and lacking any facial expressions.

The store manager had tried to teach her how to serve customers with a smile, to ignore thieves when possible, and to avoid trouble with thugs. Customers usually paid willingly, and if anything went missing, she was responsible for paying for it to avoid police interference.

Simozi found his advice nonsensical. Is work really that suffocating? Right then, she decided to quit. The store manager, upset, said she either needed to work another half month or compensate for the losses.

Then, she pressed his face into the table and rubbed it three times. Though the store manager’s face was bruised and swollen, he still smiled and waved goodbye.

When she returned home, she vented to her older brother. Bai Wei simply smiled and reassured her that she hadn’t done anything wrong—after all, she was his sister.

Later, Simozi passed the convenience store and found it had shut down—not because of retaliation, but because it had been heavily targeted by thieves. The cowardly manager often turned a blind eye to open theft. Eventually, a rich girl from an elite school was arrested for stealing a pork cutlet rice dish, all while wearing a pretty silver bracelet.

This incident left a poor impression of work on Simozi. She decided it was better to start her own business—after all, eating under someone else’s roof often invited criticism. Even if the fault wasn’t hers, the social pressures remained.

Guan Ling, on the other hand, was skilled at dealing with people—perhaps because of her busy, difficult life. She knew how to handle challenges from all directions, even responding softly to difficult people.

They changed jobs several times, and when working together, Guan Ling negotiated extra pay for temporary work. Simozi couldn’t help but wonder how she managed to succeed.

After spending half a day with Guan Ling, Simozi’s impression of her began to change. She realized Guan Ling wasn’t a small squirrel, but a small hedgehog.

As we all know, small hedgehogs have the potential to evolve into dragon slayers. Perhaps there was something more to look forward to.

Around three in the afternoon, Guan Ling came over with a drink, saying, “Here, it’s an employee benefit.”

Simozi stretched, feeling sore all over. “You really should exercise your body.”

Guan Ling replied, “I feel like I have more energy than I know what to do with.”

Simozi rolled her eyes. “Who do you think is using this body right now?”

She had watched cartoons with Bai Wei and heard him say that if her body was a top-level Wing Gundam, Guan Ling’s would at most be a Zaku.

“What’s the next job?” Simozi asked, remembering that Diwu had asked this several times today. She was impressed by this little hedgehog. Her mother had said it was a one-day job, but when combined, it exceeded five jobs.

“Take a break, no hurry.” Guan Ling drank an energy drink, stretched comfortably, then noticed Simozi’s gaze and blushed. “Don’t look at me like that. Today, there are two of us, so the work gets done extra fast. Usually, I do a maximum of three jobs, but today I exceeded that.”

“So, you’re treating me as free labor?” Simozi hummed.

“It’s not free. You earned 20,000 yen today.” Guan Ling handed over the money.

Simozi accepted it without hesitation. It was her own earnings, but she understood the underlying truth. “You don’t work in one place, do you? You do temporary jobs everywhere, filling in for others.”

“Exactly. This way, I get the highest efficiency and income,” Guan Ling said.

“You really work hard,” Simozi admired, though she had no intention of copying her. This passionate lifestyle was foreign to her. Guan Ling never mentioned dreams—only short-term goals. For most people, dreams are heavy and can suffocate. But for Simozi, dreams were a slightly higher place—she could reach them easily with effort.

This difference defined their ways of life.

“Take a rest.” Guan Ling checked the time. “It’s about time. The last job is…”

“Music festival.”