True Tycoon Her Empire, Her Rules

Winnie’s words struck a chord with the chief, who promptly spoke on behalf of the villagers, accepting her proposition without a second thought.

“I didn’t realize the guardían spirit has been watching over us from the shadows all this time. We’re truly indebted and ashamed. Whatever the guardian needs, we’re prepared to follow through.”

It was a debt they owed to the mysterious entity.

Noticing the villagers nodding in agreement, Winnie knew they meant every word. She glanced once more at the werewolf standing in the distance, thought for a moment, and addressed the villagers again.

“Just because the werewolf got some blessings from nature, doesn’t mean it’s divine and needs its own shrine. The stone chapel up on the hill can be a place to leave offerings, no need to engrave any name on it. Moreover, if you truly wish to make amends, you can dedicate a plaque to the village’s ancestral hall in its honor. Daily offerings there will convey your sincerity.”

After this ordeal, it was clear the werewolf wouldn’t continue its protection over the village. From now on, they would have to rely on themselves and the mandrakes they cultivated.

Dedicating a plaque in the hall served two purposes: it fulfilled a bond between the spirit and the villagers, harnessing the power of their faith to aid its recovery. It also left a thread of connection between them.

So long as the village hall held the spirit’s plaque, the werewolf would sense their genuine devotion over time. Even if it didn’t protect the village as before, it wouldn’t ignore them should disaster strike.

The chief saw no issue with honoring the werewolf. The deep–rooted connection between the werewolf and their ancestors justified it. He eagerly agreed and even decided to have the hall’s carvings and murals updated to include the werewolf’s likeness.

Winnie asked Cox to find a piece of jade, intended for the chapel to aid the werewolf’s cultivation. She planned to create a simple Spirit Gathering Array with it.

During her ascent, she noticed that the mandrakes fields of Cloverfield Cottage had depleted the spiritual essence of the mountain. It was remarkable that the werewolf managed to cultivate under such conditions, sharing what little energy there was with the villagers‘ crops.

The Spirit Gathering Array would help to re–concentrate the mountain’s spiritual essence. With the nourishment of this essence, combined with the villagers‘ daily offerings, the werewolf’s recovery would be significantly expedited.

This was the full extent of the agreement between Winnie and the werewolf. With a consensus reached, the werewolf and its kin departed.

Back in the live–streaming chatroom, the audience was left bewildered.

“I knew I missed the scoop of a lifetime.”

“That’s it? What about the details? The showdown? Did the crew cut that out?”

“Was Winnie negotiating with the werewolf?”

“It seems like the villagers owe the werewolf big time. Can someone fill me in?”

“The key moment and the stream goes down. I woke up early for this?”

“So why were the wolves causing trouble in the village?”

“Is that a real werewolf? Can it speak?”

11:56

Qult your yapping, Can’t you tell the crew did this on purpose? And those aren’t real wolves, probably people in costume. They cut the stream to cover up the flaws.

The chatroom’s viewers were frustrated, having missed the climax due to the stream’s interruption. Some even stirred up trouble.

Bagot thought it best to have the guests recount the missed events to appease the audience’s curiosity, caring little whether they believed it was scripted or not.

As they descended the mountain, the guests narrated and reenacted the unseen parts of the story, satisfying the restive curiosity of the audience.

“Werewolves are said to be the most difficult to deal with, so why is this one so gentle?”

“He saved it once, and in return, it not only led him out of the mountains but also found him a century– old wild mandrakes. And for a mere joke, it protected the village for seventy years.”

“This has got to be love, right?.”

“I’m crying here. I’ll never hate wolves again.”

“All creatures have spirits, mosquitoes excluded.”

“Come on, this is clearly made up by the crew. And people believe it?”

“I don’t care if it’s made up, I believe it.”

“The villager who insulted it is terrible. It just wanted recognition, not the stars from the sky.”

“Will the werewolf seek recognition after regaining its power? If needed, the guardian can come to me. I’ll make sure you succeed.”

“The people of Cloverfield Cottage are so lucky to have a silent guardian spirit in the mountains.”

“I’m not from this village, but can I go to the mountains and ask for the werewolf’s help?”

The chatroom was bustling with diverse comments. Sean, unnoticed until now, approached the staff monitoring the chat and peered at the screen, reading the discussions about recognition.

His eyes lit up, and he grabbed a tablet from a staff member and strode over to Winnie, thrusting the screen in front of her.

“Look at this, they’re all so generous, and you’re being stingy.”

He just wanted a person for the werewolf to protect so it could seek recognition, but she insisted on hiding

1. it.

“See, everyone in the chat is willing.”

His sudden move caught the staff off guard. Winnie’s expression darkened slightly. She didn’t even glance at the tablet and simply said, “Give the tablet back.”

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After a pause, she added, “If you interfere with the staff’s work again, you can go back home.”

It was rare for Winnie to be stern. The audience watched in surprise, feeling as if they were being lifted

toward her when Sean raised the tablet.

“Winnie, don’t be so hard on him. He traveled far to find you, and it’s not easy,” Gentry suddenly said, surprising the other guests.

While the others might have been indifferent to Sean, Gentry felt compelled to defend him, having been saved by him the night before.

As soon as Gentry opened his mouth, Candace and Kane, who were close by, chimed in with their own

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words of persuasion.

Winnie didn’t fancy airing their dirty laundry in front of the live–stream audience, so she toned her voice down a notch, suggesting that they could discuss their issues once they were back home.

Seeing Sean looking like a lost puppy, Gentry leaned in closer to him.

“Your name’s Sean, right? I’m Gentry. Things have been so rushed since last night and this morning, I didn’t get the chance to properly thank you. For last night, you know, saving our hides,” Gentry said with heartfelt gratitude.

Sean gave him an odd look as if sizing him up before he replied, “No need for thanks, and besides, it wasn’t even me who saved you.”

Gentry was taken aback, not sure if Sean was being modest or what.

Last night, when those wolves had charged at them, the cameraman and Joseph had quickly passed out cold from fear. It had only been Gentry, and for some reason, the wolf had veered off course as it lunged for Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

him.

There was no one else around. If it wasn’t Sean who had intervened, then who could it have been?