The Invincible Young Master

The days after the grim event at the Duke's mansion passed quietly.

Spark, still shaken by the bloody incident, soon returned to his usual carefree self, seemingly unaffected by the lingering memories.

Zhao Shi, ever watchful, continued their daily routines with quiet diligence.

Rumor had it that Princess Ling remained in the state, but Zhao Shi had no reason to worry about her. Their connection was distant, merely a shared background.

Life went on as usual.

As the sun rose, casting its warm glow over the city, Zhao Shi finished his morning meditation and opened the door to their residence.

As always, a pile of presents awaited him on the doorstep.

"Another batch," Zhao Shi muttered, moving the gifts inside with practiced ease. These daily deliveries had become routine, yet their source remained a mystery.

He set the presents aside and began preparing breakfast, choosing a special dish from his hometown—a comforting taste of familiarity in a foreign place.

After breakfast, Zhao Shi approached Spark.

"Young master, there's a pile of presents today as well," he said, his tone tinged with mild frustration.

"What can I say? I'm too famous," Spark replied, his voice full of his usual bravado.

Zhao Shi's expression turned serious. "Young master, I think there's a small problem with these gifts."

"What problem?" Spark asked, suddenly intrigued.

"I think, young master, you have a stalker," Zhao Shi said, his voice steady but concerned.

"..."

Spark's eyes widened in surprise. "A stalker? Why do you think that?"

"Maybe because you're famous," Zhao Shi echoed Spark's own words. "I've never seen anyone delivering these presents. It's like they're hiding their identity like a stalker."

Every day, without fail, the presents appeared at their gate, yet Zhao Shi had never seen who left them. The stealthy deliveries unsettled him.

Spark shrugged off the concern.

"Couldn't they just be my fans?" he suggested, dismissing the idea of a threat.

"Don't get me wrong, young master," Zhao Shi said. "But it's odd for fans to hide like this. And they're very quick—almost too quick."

"It's just your imagination," Spark said with a casual wave of his hand.

"Maybe," Zhao Shi agreed, but the worry in his eyes remained.

…

That day, while walking through the busy city with Spark and Yuna, Zhao Shi stayed alert. His eyes scanned every corner, looking for any sign of unusual activity. But nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was just another typical day.

"Relax, Butler Zhao," Spark said, "Why have you been so tense all day?"

Zhao Shi shook his head, declining the drink. "I can't drink while serving the young master. Also, I'm on the lookout for a stalker."

"A stalker?" Yuna asked, her face showing a mix of confusion and amusement.

"They're my fans, not stalkers," Spark insisted with a dismissive wave.

"Young master has fans?" Yuna's expression was a mix of surprise and teasing, her tone light.

"Are you making fun of me?" Spark shot back playfully.

"No. I didn't know young master had fans," Yuna said, still playful.

"Of course I do. I have fans all around the world. They're just too shy to show themselves," Spark added with a grin.

"Alright, I believe you, young master," Yuna sighed, accepting Spark's boastful claims.

"See, Butler Zhao? Even she believes I have fans," Spark boasted and took another bite.

As night fell, Zhao Shi's vigilance grew even sharper.

After the two had gone to bed, he stayed up, choosing to meditate near the entrance.

His senses were keen, and he paid close attention to every sound and shadow, waiting for the mysterious gift-giver to show up.

Despite his efforts, there were no signs of the stalker.

Midnight passed quietly, and the first light of dawn began to break.

Just when Zhao Shi was starting to doubt his efforts, he noticed a subtle movement at the entrance.

He rushed to the gate, hoping to catch the elusive visitor.

But when he arrived, there was no one to be seen.

He looked around and saw the familiar pile of presents, neatly arranged as if placed by an invisible hand.

"There's no one?" Zhao Shi murmured, slight frustration evident in his voice. Despite his best efforts, he hadn't even caught a glimpse of the mysterious stalker.

…

The next morning, Spark asked casually as he sipped his tea, "So, did you find anything?"

"No," Zhao Shi replied, shaking his head. "I couldn't even catch a glimpse."

"What kind of fan hides and is so quick?" Zhao Shi wondered aloud, unable to shake the mystery. Whoever was delivering the presents remained a complete enigma, slipping past his keen senses as if teleporting.

Seeing that Spark wasn't worried about the daily gifts, Zhao Shi decided to let it go. If his young master wasn't concerned, he didn't need to worry too much.

Yet, a lingering unease stayed with him. In a world where power and influence were paramount, the unknown could be as dangerous as any visible threat.

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