Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 1

This was the coldest winter in the history of Lemena.

Cotton-like, heavy snow enveloped the entire northern continent overnight, making it difficult to even find any traces of the cold-resistant long-tailed foxes. Thick snow covered the roofs and streetlamps, making all of Lemena look like a giant gingerbread house cake. People had piled up high stacks of firewood early and resolved to spend the entire long winter by the roaring fireplace and with warm mushroom soup.

Only one place was an exception.

Brandenburg and its surroundings didn’t have a speck of snow, as if a gentle hand had brushed away all the snowflakes above it. In the central courtyard of this castle, a huge greenhouse was steaming with warmth.

“Your Lordship, the elves’ magic can maintain a stable temperature inside the castle, but these roses are getting more haggard by the day.” Two gardeners had their heads bowed, not daring to look at their master.

The young master of the castle, Duke Dwight, stood in the greenhouse with his head lowered as he looked at the listless roses.

“These are Priscilla’s flowers,” he said softly. “I want them all to survive.”

But he had tried everything—he had hired the best craftsmen to maintain the greenhouse, the best gardeners to care for the seedlings, and had asked the elves to keep Brandenburg’s climate in perpetual spring before the harsh winter arrived, but no matter what he did, the flowers continued to wither.

“Think of something else,” he said to his butler standing by.

“If even the elves can’t do it…” the butler cautiously began.

“It’s not only elves who can do magic,” the Duke said nonchalantly. “Angels haven’t descended for almost three hundred years. What about demons?”

The butler shuddered inside.

“Demons only manipulate the undead. They’re not skilled in life magic,” he quickly countered.

“What other way is there?” The Duke looked at his butler.

The young Duke, not yet twenty, inherited his mother’s fair skin and exceptional facial features, which gave him a beauty that transcended gender, captivating to anyone who laid eyes on him. Although he seldom left Brandenburg, poets celebrated his “almost angelic” appearance, and it had become widely known.

Only the butler knew that his master’s personality was far from as clear and innocent as his appearance suggested.

He thought for a moment, then cautiously said, “Perhaps there are other ways.”

The Duke turned to look at him.

“Legend has it that on the other side of the Lake of Sighs, in the town of Maplewood, there’s a shop,” the butler said. “I’ve heard knights mention that the shop owner can fulfill all sorts of wishes to some extent.”

The Duke raised an eyebrow sarcastically. “‘Fulfill all wishes’?”

Except for the God of Creation, who else could boast such a thing?

The butler fell silent. Such joke-like rumors weren’t supposed to be brought up before the noble Duke, but a returned scribe had earnestly claimed in front of him that this magical shop had fulfilled some absurd wish of a king, earning a reward beyond ordinary people’s imaginations, more than enough to buy the entire town of Maplewood.

The greenhouse fell into a brief silence.

“Call the Knight Commander,” the Duke said nonchalantly. “I want him to make a trip before the snow stops.”

Lake of Sighs by name alone sounded like a good place for a spring picnic or an autumn stroll—and indeed it was. Only it was much larger than an ordinary lake, and its winter lakeside scenery wasn’t at all beautiful, especially this year with such cold weather. The wind, mixed with snow foam, blew incessantly, and the rigid black tree branches reached straight into the sky like countless witches’ fingers.

Around ten o’clock at night, the gatekeeper of Maplewood, Atto, rubbed his red eyes. He had drunk a lot that day and wanted to go to bed early, so he decided to close the gate a bit earlier. After all, with such cold weather, no one would come.

He shivered as he wrapped himself tightly in his dogskin coat and just stepped out of the hut when the cold wind sobered him up considerably.

It wasn’t yet deep winter, but the temperature was simply hellish. Atto had been outside for less than a minute when his hands froze, and he struggled to extend his arms, trying to remove the lantern hanging on the gate.

Just then, a horse’s neigh came from the nearby darkness. Atto paused for a moment, his alcohol-addled brain taking two minutes to kick into gear.

“This damn weather!” he grumbled loudly, and although reluctant, he still approached the wooden window to look outside.

Three tall white horses broke through the pitch-black night, galloping rapidly towards him, making Atto shiver, his clumsy fingers fumbling to unlock the large lock.

He saw a golden ducal crest on the carriage pulled by the horses.

A fully armored, tall knight looked down at him.

“Good evening, gatekeeper,” he said. “My Master needs a place to rest tonight.”

Maplewood welcomed a distinguished guest on a bitterly cold winter night.

Sheriff John stumbled out of the door to greet the sudden arrival of the noble Duke. His wife frantically directed the maids to change the sheets, spray perfume, and hastily clean the hallways. She unnecessarily woke up her two plump daughters, ordering them to respectfully wait by the door with jugs of water and bread.

On the other side, the sheriff nervously allowed the tall knight to scrutinize him up and down.

“I have prepared the best room for Your Lordship,” the sheriff said eagerly. “The stove is burning very warmly, and we have also prepared the finest Molida Island wine.”

Knight Commander Shivers nodded slightly, turned around, and the two knights accompanying him stepped forward to open the carriage door.

The sheriff, although he knew he shouldn’t, couldn’t help but sneak a peek—the young Duke, famous across the continent for his beauty, was someone everyone had only heard about in legends, and such a legendary figure had actually come to his town. Even the most old-fashioned monk in the monastery would surely be tempted to take a look.

Unfortunately, he only caught a glimpse of a white-gloved hand lightly knocking on the carriage door.

Understanding the cue, Shivers, with a stern face, said, “We encountered nightmarish monsters by the Lake of Sighs. Only with the blessing of the God of Light were we able to arrive safely. My Master wishes to first go to the church to pray, to ward off evil spirits, and to listen for guidance.”

After finishing, he didn’t wait for the sheriff’s dumbfounded expression and mounted his horse.

The sheriff’s enthusiasm was instantly doused, but he still remembered not to neglect the Duke, and hurriedly went forward to lead the way personally.

Shivers didn’t stop. A baby-faced young knight, smiling affably, intercepted him, whispered a few words, and quickly followed the carriage away.

The sheriff’s wife waited in the warm corridor for half a day, but the handsome young Duke didn’t arrive. Anxious, she fussed over her daughters’ skirts while stretching her neck to peek around.

“Dear.” She finally saw her husband come in and quickly lowered her voice. “The Duke…”

After dismissing all the servants, the sheriff said, “Let Lily and Sissy go to sleep. The Duke isn’t staying.”

The sheriff’s wife immediately widened her eyes. “He’s not staying? Then where is the Duke going?”

The sheriff hesitantly said, “The church.”

But honestly, anyone could tell that was just a pretext from the Knight Commander. The church in winter didn’t even have a stove, and not to brag, but if the Duke didn’t fancy even the best house in town, which was the sheriff’s residence, where else could he go?

However, the sheriff’s wife was pondering another question.

“Could the Duke be going to Mona’s place?” She raised her voice. “That vile, dirty—”

“Who’s Mona?”

Duke Dwight sat in the carriage. Despite the long and cold journey, his robe remained impeccably smooth, accentuating his usually pale skin, making him look like a beautifully dressed ice sculpture.

Shivers, seated on his horse, breathed out a puff of white air. “People call her the red agate on the silver goblet, a midsummer night’s dream—”

He caught a glimpse of his master’s cold expression through the carriage window and immediately clammed up. “The innkeeper of the town, rumored to be a passionate beauty.”

The young Duke lowered his eyes, casually stroking the emerald on the top of his silver-handled cane. His tone was so calm, it was almost mocking. “A beauty?”

Shivers felt quite wronged. The Dwight family had always been known for their power and beauty. Honestly, if he had the Duke’s looks, even just looking in the mirror every day would make it hard to be interested in any beauty, let alone a widow from the countryside—but what could he do? That poor sheriff certainly couldn’t guess that the Duke didn’t stay because he didn’t like his looks. Shivers himself had never been to Maplewood before, and it took some digging to remember an inn famous for its beautiful innkeeper, which was not only dismissed but also mocked by his master.

It was already deep into the night, and the streets were almost deserted. The black cast iron lampposts were covered with a thick layer of frost. The faint light from the streetlamps seemed about to be frozen solid, so dim it appeared it might go out the next second.

However, the luxuriously enchanted carriage emitted a faint warmth both inside and out, lending an absurd sense of humor to the silent streetscape.

Dwight was silent for a while before finally saying, “Go to Elmwood Street.”

In the dimly lit whispers of taverns, beside the campfires of weary rangers, even in the songs of minstrels, this address and the mysterious little shop it contained often came up.

22 Paulownia Street, Maplewood.

Glory, wealth, or youth that lasts,

My promises may not come to pass,

Before you ring, take heed, beware,

Make a wish, traveler with care,

Whatever your heart does yearn,

Whatever your deepest desires burn.

The midnight street was eerily quiet. Most of the cobblestone streets were covered with snow. The noble carriage could only go as far as the street corner—the stone houses on either side squeezed tightly upwards, the road so narrow that at most two people could walk side by side.

Expensive boots made a crunching sound on the snow. The severe cold had most households tightly shut their doors and windows, unwilling to let even a bit of light escape, making the faint light at the end of the street seem like a dream.

Dwight stopped in front of the steps, his beautiful pale irises staring at a uniformed tin soldier standing by the door. Before he could approach, the previously motionless tin soldier suddenly jerked as if glitching.

Dwight: “……”

What is this?

Tin Soldier: “Guests! Charlie! Charlie!”

The tin soldier’s shrill voice was unusually loud in the winter night. Before the Duke and his Knight Commander could react, the heavy wooden door creaked and slowly opened from the inside.

“Excuse me.” A gentle male voice came from inside. “Close the door behind you—it’s really too cold today, isn’t it?”

The half-open door let out warm yellow light. Right next to it was a long counter, cluttered with all sorts of odds and ends. A figure was half-crouched behind the counter, seemingly fixing something, making a delicate clattering noise.

Seemingly startled by the breeze that swept in through the door, the figure stood up and shouted at them, “Do me a favor, please don’t stand on my doorstep in a daze!”

Dwight’s eyebrows twitched, and Shivers instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword.

Standing behind the counter was a rabbit.

To be precise, it was a creature with the body of a normal man but the head of a Lloyd Country Rabbit above the neck—fluffy, long-eared, round, and big eyes staring at the two visitors, startled, with a disapproving look.

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Kinky Thoughts:

I’ve been a fan of western fantasy, especially ever since I read Stray. This was a recommendation from a friend, and I quite like it, so I decided to pick it up.

Enjoy.

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