White Night Hall represents the ultimate luxury and the highest echelon of social circles in Golden City.
Countless searchlights from every corner of the city converge on it, making it bright as day at all times, never dimming.
It does not belong to any single family; rather, it is a venue jointly operated by the City-State Council and the Alchemists’ Guild.
It is specifically used to host the highest-spec banquets, art auctions, and resolve the most troublesome marriage issues of the nobility.
The Cromwell family’s carriage stopped on the dedicated track in front of White Night Hall.
Liya got off first.
She circled to the other side, opened the door, and prepared to help Weiluoya out.
“We’ve arrived, Miss.”
Weiluoya put down the detective novel she had only read a few pages of, lifted her hem, and stepped down from the carriage with Liya’s assistance.
She looked up.
The main building of White Night Hall was a huge domed palace.
The outer walls were made of white marble polished to mirror finish.
Complex copper pipelines converged at the dome, connecting into a spherical core composed of countless rotating gears and swinging pointers.
Steam seeped from the gaps in the core, refracting rainbow-like halos in the sunlight.
The attendants at the entrance wore tailcoats and white gloves.
They were familiar with the Cromwell family crest and Weiluoya’s face, which often appeared in the newspapers.
They respectfully pulled open the revolving door inlaid with huge crystals for her.
“Miss Cromwell, Madam Red Thread is already waiting for you in the reception room on the top floor.”
An attendant bowed slightly and reminded Weiluoya.
“Mm.”
Weiluoya acknowledged, withdrawing her gaze from the intricate and dizzying mechanical structure.
They entered the hall.
Beneath the dome hung a huge crystal chandelier comparable to a small airship.
Countless crystal prisms refracted light, illuminating the entire hall as bright as day.
The floor was a black-and-white marble checkerboard, so polished it could reflect figures.
Elegantly dressed guests gathered in twos and threes, holding glasses and chatting in low voices.
Meanwhile, mechanical attendants carrying trays weaved through the crowd with stiff steps.
Weiluoya ignored all of this and followed the attendant’s lead directly to an elegantly styled elevator deep in the hall.
The interior of the elevator was small.
The brass lattice door slowly closed, and with a slight steam pressure release sound, it began to rise steadily.
“Miss, after you meet Madam Red Thread, please be cautious in your words and actions.”
Liya looked at the floors rapidly passing outside the lattice door and couldn’t help reminding her.
“Madam Red Thread’s connections and influence in the city are extraordinary.
The marriages of many important figures are handled by her.
We…”
“I know.”
Weiluoya interrupted her.
“In what way have I failed to act like a proper lady?”
Liya looked at her young lady’s innocent and naive face and silently sighed in her heart.
The elevator stopped at the top floor.
The brass lattice door slid open silently.
Before them was an open semicircular terrace.
The floor was covered with soft white long-pile carpet.
Several exquisite white carved tables and chairs were arranged at intervals.
Beyond the railing was an endless view of the city sky.
A figure was sitting at the edge of the terrace, back to them.
She appeared to be around forty years old, wearing a well-tailored black tailored suit.
Her hair was neatly tied back, and she wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses.
Her expression was serious, like a rigorous scholar.
She was the most famous marriage arranger in Golden City, known as “Madam Red Thread,” Margaret.
“Miss Cromwell, good day.”
Madam Red Thread stood up, nodded slightly, and looked Weiluoya up and down.
“Please, have a seat.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam.”
Weiluoya lifted her hem and performed an impeccable curtsey.
“First, sit down.”
Madam Red Thread pointed at a small round table beside them.
Weiluoya obeyed and sat down, while Liya stood quietly behind her.
“Has my father already explained to you?”
Madam Red Thread sat across from her, took out a stack of profile cards from a delicate leather briefcase she carried with her.
“Yes, Mr. Arthur is very anxious.”
Madam Red Thread sat back in her seat and picked up a file from the table.
“He provided several candidates for you—outstanding young talents with status in the city, top-notch in family background, conduct, and appearance.
Most importantly, they can marry you quickly and tolerate your hobbies.”
When she said the word “hobbies,” her gaze paused meaningfully on Weiluoya.
Weiluoya knew that her glorious days as a detective must have reached this lady’s ears.
“Based on these conditions, I’ve selected the most suitable candidates.”
Madam Red Thread pushed the top few cards over to Weiluoya.
“Madam.”
Weiluoya didn’t look at them.
She looked up, her green eyes clear as she faced the woman across from her.
“Before we start the selection, I have a prerequisite that I need to explain to you first.”
“Please go ahead.”
Madam Red Thread interlaced her fingers, leaned forward slightly, and assumed a professional posture of attentive listening.
“I don’t like men.”
Weiluoya stated this in a flat, matter-of-fact tone.
Liya, standing behind Weiluoya, quietly poked her head out to take a look, then silently straightened up again.
She felt that if the master saw this, he would probably faint on the spot.
Madam Red Thread’s expression didn’t change.
She pushed up her gold-rimmed glasses, nodded, then neatly took back the cards of the male nobles on the table, without the slightest surprise or further questioning.
She turned around, took out another stack of cards tied with a pink ribbon from a different compartment of her briefcase.
“In fact, this kind of situation is not uncommon in my business.”
Madam Red Thread muttered to herself in a casual tone while untying the ribbon.
“Golden City is a very open and progressive city.
It supports the existence of all tastes.
Isn’t that great?”
She skillfully flipped through the cards in her hand, her monocle’s lens quickly scanning the beautiful female faces.
“So, Miss Cromwell, do you have any specific requirements for a partner?
For example, appearance, personality, or occupation?”
Weiluoya thought for a moment.
“Quiet, doesn’t meddle in my affairs, preferably has her own residence, and won’t disturb my life too much.”
“Very good requirements.
Very pragmatic.”
Madam Red Thread nodded, pulled out one of the cards, and handed it to Weiluoya.
“Then, how about this one?”
Weiluoya took the card.
The photo showed a woman with black hair and black eyes, wearing a well-fitted black suit, holding a cane, her head slightly tilted, with a faint, nonchalant smile on her lips.
“Charlotte van Dorn.”
Madam Red Thread introduced.
“A descendant of a declining noble.
Currently a well-known jewelry appraiser in the city.
She also needs to complete a marriage registration within two months.
Like you, she is not interested in men.”
“Can I get to know her first?”
Weiluoya was actually somewhat resistant to marriage.
But the laws of this world dictated it, and she hoped to find someone who wouldn’t interfere with each other.
“Of course.”
Madam Red Thread stood up and walked to an oddly shaped brass pillar in the center of the terrace.
She pressed a button, and the top of the pillar popped open, lifting a complex microphone device connected to countless fine copper wires, with a padded earpiece extending from the other end.
Madam Red Thread skillfully put the earpiece on one ear, then picked up the horn-shaped microphone.
She made a “wait a moment” gesture to Weiluoya at the table.
“Don’t rush, Miss Cromwell.”
She blew into the microphone, adjusted a few knobs on it, and a faint electrical hum came from the earpiece.
“To improve efficiency and avoid unnecessary awkwardness on a first meeting, we will communicate through this far-talker first.”
She looked at Weiluoya, her tone flat.
“Whatever you want to ask or request, you can convey through me.
Miss Charlotte will do the same.
Now, I’ll call her.
Please wait a moment.”