Chapter 446
446 Making Wynter’s Life Difficult at the Quinnells
There was a bakery near the building.
Wynter was dragging a large bag of bread. She looked down at the expressive vagabond, and said,
“Eat.”
“I.. I cant eat anymore, hic!”
The vagabond was leaning against the wall. The bread in his mouth caused him to hiccup continuously,
not knowing what tricks Wynter had played on him.
He laughed uncontrollably, “Ha ha ha, hic!”
“I don’t want to know anymore.” Wynter stuffed another piece of bread into his mouth. “It’s important to
eat, being hungry is bad.”
The vagabond felt like dying, “I, hic! I was wrong! Young, young lady, I…”
Only then did Wynter reach out and remove a needle from his body.
The vagabond collapsed in the corner and gasped for air, drenched in cold sweat.
Wynter’s voice was soft and detached. “I’m running out of patience. Don’t beat around the bush. Speak
directly.”
on who “The person
o gave me this, I really didn’t know who it was. I was lying down at the time and didn’t manage to look
up. The person told me to take it to the Quinnell building. Then, I was given a thousand dollars in cash.”
The vagabond said while pulling out all the money he received at dawn. “I’m really telling
the truth.”
“What’s inside the wooden box?” Wynter glanced at him.
The vagabond averted his gaze. “I don’t know.”
Wynter didn’t bother to argue. She just lifted the bread in her hand again.
The vagabond quickly said, “It’s just a few wooden sticks and a piece of yellow paper, like those used
for fortune–telling.”
“Divination sticks,” Wynter guessed immediately.
The vagabond nodded, “Seems like it.”
Wynter raised an eyebrow and asked, “Aren’t you worried about bringing such things here? You could
catch some bad luck from the Quinnell family or even get nabbed by the police.”
The vagabond looked around and whispered, “Well, I can read stuff like these. The divination was
ominous, specifically mentioning Ms. Sevie of the Quinnell family. They definitely wouldn’t want
something like that getting out. They won’t cause me any trouble. Actually, they might even pay me a
good sum to keep quiet.”
“You seem to know quite a bit,” Wynter said as she toyed with a silver needle. “Tell me more about
what’s
( 426 Maknu hynter V–Lite piñault ist the thi
written on those sticks.”
The vagabond was scared now. He cautiously said, “The stick says that Ms. Sevie of the Quinnell
family is a calamitous loner who brings misfortune to her relatives. Anyone connected to her will be
plagued by Illness, especially her parents and siblings, who will be disastrously affected. Their
businesses will fail miserably, and their academic pursuits will flounder.”
Wynter latened as if all this was unrelated to her.
She lowered her gaze and chewed a mint candy before casually saying, “Every divination has a
solution. What about this one?”
“It says there’s no solution,” the vagabond responded. “Imagine, the Quinnell family found such a
person. If they knew her fate, would they dare acknowledge her in front of other noble families?”
Wynter pondered his words, “So, the person who sent you with this doesn’t want the Quinnell family to
acknowledge Ms. Sevie?”
The vagabond was confused momentarily and wondered if that was what he implied.
“You’re quite clever,” Wynter smirked.
The vagabond was left speechless as he didn’t say anything.
At that moment, Wynter suddenly grabbed his collar. A chilling pressure enveloped him. Wynter
remarked, “You have surely seen the person who gave you this. They taught you to say what you just
said. Let me guess how they instructed you. They probably said, no matter who asks, you should stick
to this story.”
Wynter smirked. “The goal isn’t really to deliver a wooden box, but to spread the word, from one to ten,
from ten to a hundred, letting all Quinnell employees kn
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