Chapter 29: Labor rent under extra-economic coercion

Duoluosa snapped out of her daze, the flush from Liang Lai’s kiss fading as urgency took over.
She grabbed Liang Lai’s clothes.

“Liang Lai, I want to go with you!”

Her voice was firm—she meant to protect her.

Asteris and Delucia tugged at Liang Lai’s clothes too.

“We should go with Mom,” Asteris said.
“She’s not familiar with the place. What if she gets lost?”

Delucia nodded.
“Yeah, Mom might end up in the wrong shop!”

Liang Lai’s face twisted in embarrassment.
Taking the kids for a fun outing was one thing, but this—a forbidden errand to a shady tailor shop—was dangerous.

“No, you three stay home.”

She rubbed their heads gently.

Duoluosa frowned, gripping Liang Lai’s hand tightly.
“No way I’m letting you go alone!”

Surprisingly, Asteris and Delucia sided with her.

“Mom can be clumsy sometimes,” Asteris said.
“What if she picks the wrong place?”

Delucia echoed, “Exactly!”

Liang Lai sighed, pinching Asteris’s cheek.

“Am I just a fool to you? Shouldn’t I be a reliable adult?!”

She puffed up, hands on hips, trying to look authoritative.
But Duoluosa, Asteris, and Delucia exchanged glances, their eyes glinting with pity—as if they were looking at a lovable fool.

Liang Lai froze.
…Really?

“Six hundred and sixty-six, salt’s lost its flavor,” she muttered, deflated.

She poked their heads in mock frustration.

“I said no, and that’s final. You stay here. Duoluosa, Asteris—practice your crystallization abilities. Delucia, supervise them. I’ll be back soon. Taking you all would draw too much attention. Alone, I’m less noticeable.”

Her logic was sound, hard to argue with.
But Duoluosa clung to her clothes, unwilling to yield.

Liang Lai softened.
“Besides, your abilities are unstable. If danger comes, I’d have to protect you. Alone, I can run. With you there… I’d be distracted.”

That was the real reason.
Since rescuing Duoluosa from Darkborn, Liang Lai’s overuse of her crystallization ability had left her traumatized, terrified of facing them again.

Duoluosa lowered her head, slowly releasing Liang Lai’s clothes.

“Fine…”

She clenched her fists.

“Just… be careful, Liang Lai. I…”

Before she could finish, Liang Lai pulled her into a warm embrace.

“I know what you’re saying. You’ll get strong, and then you’ll protect me”
She smiled, ruffling Duoluosa’s hair.
“I’ll get old someday, and you’ll be stronger. Don’t abandon me then”

Duoluosa’s eyes sparkled, instantly won over.

“Of course I won’t! I’ll protect you!”

Kids were so easy to coax.

Asteris and Delucia exchanged a glance, abandoning their pleas.
They sidled up to Liang Lai, clinging to her sides.

The scene was a picture of maternal love—three daughters, one mother.
If only their faces didn’t hint at ulterior motives.

That night, Liang Lai stayed up late, sketching a portrait of Duoluosa.
It resembled her but lacked Alphonse VII’s distinct features.

“Perfect.”

A drastic change would raise suspicion, but subtle tweaks would go unnoticed.
She admired her work, giving her painting skills a mental thumbs-up.

“Awesome!”

Self-praise is the best praise.

Before dawn, she rolled up the portrait and tucked it into her pocket.
The children slept soundly; she slipped out without waking them, stepping into the morning mist of the Immaculate Courtyard.

Though early, workers were already toiling, collecting honey under the Church’s demands.
Liang Lai’s fingers tightened.

“This is just labor rent under extra-economic coercion.”

Her voice was low, bitter.

“Per Marxist economics, they’re forced into excessive labor. The honey they collect far exceeds survival needs, and the Church takes the surplus value without compensation, all in religion’s name—primitive capital accumulation.”

She eyed the glowing holy seals on the workers’ foreheads—marks of alienated labor.

“The Church uses sanctification to sever workers from their labor’s fruits, turning them into tools for papal rule. They lose not just their work, but their humanity.”

Her indignation flared, but she was powerless to change it.
Just another angry youth, venting frustrations.

“Sigh.”

Now wasn’t the time for sentiment.
She hurried through the crowd, counting alleys.
At the third, she turned right.

The alley was dim, sunlight filtering sparsely onto pitted stone pavement.
Her boots crunched over withered wisteria leaves.

At the end stood a narrow shop, its faded indigo curtain embroidered with crooked gold thread—a sunburst pattern now resembling rain-soaked mold.
Rusty brass scissors, notched and creaking, hung above the door, swaying in the breeze like gnashing teeth.

Liang Lai lifted the curtain, and a stench of rotten whale oil and mold hit her.