Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

Chapter 218

In the evening, still lingering with the last traces of summer, the inland city, surrounded by mountains, had no wind at all. The air was humid, sticky, and suffocatingly oppressive.

For outsiders from the highlands or coastal areas, this climate was so unbearable that it made them lose the motivation to do anything.

A tall, red-haired girl unbuttoned another button on her chest.

Her striking appearance and figure, different from the petite local girls, were enough to make her stand out. This action made it even harder for the men on the street to take their eyes off her: her fair skin and the prominent half of her chest were boldly exposed to the air. Even the bold streetwalkers wouldn’t dare to open their collars so low.

But no one dared to treat her like a streetwalker and approach her because her expression was too calm and composed, even with a hint of indifferent arrogance. Coupled with her deep eye sockets and high nose, she exuded a sharp aura of “men are all trash”. Although attracted by her appearance and bold demeanor, it was still early, and most men weren’t yet drunk enough to think they could flirt with this beauty—truth be told, even without considering her heels, she was taller than most men on the street. Admiring was one thing, but no one wanted to stand in front of her and become a laughingstock.

“Vasilia!” someone called out to her.

Vasilia looked up and saw her friend Alibeth standing in front of a tavern, so she changed her original plan and walked towards the tavern.

Alibeth was also tall, but not as tall as Vasilia. Her hair was closer to brown, and she had a faint dimple on her left cheek when she smiled.

Vasilia glanced at the half-open door and could tell that the tavern wasn’t of high quality. The people inside were those with limited pocket money or travel expenses. Even though it was still daylight, it was already lively and noisy, with people drinking.

Seeing Vasilia’s raised eyebrows, Alibeth didn’t need to speak to know what her friend was thinking. “Alibeth, how did you end up in such a place looking for men?”

“It’s not me,” Alibeth quickly said. “It’s Shana who met a singing guy a few days ago, and I’m here to find her.”

Vasilia said, “Remember to remind her not to get pregnant by accident.”

Alibeth was momentarily choked by her bluntness.

They were the new generation of the Lion Family. Every year, some girls between the ages of 16 and 20 were allowed to leave their hometown to travel around the continent, broaden their horizons, hone their skills, and also—fall in love.

If they met outstanding men during their journey and had excellent offspring with them, it would be a good thing. This was the tradition of the Lion Family.

“She’s just playing around,” Alibeth said helplessly. “Although Shana is a bit wild, she’s very careful about such things.”

Bards, as a group, were indeed mostly charming and humorous, with a talent that particularly appealed to girls. But for the Lion Family, men who sang and wrote poetry every day were too weak and wouldn’t be considered as potential fathers for someone like Vasilia, who was in the cadre reserve.

Vasilia always preferred to be alone, while Alibeth was good friends with Shana. The three of them happened to meet in this city and naturally gathered together, but Vasilia couldn’t agree with Shana’s overly broad choice of partners.

“Want to go upstairs and drag Shana out with me?” Alibeth invited her. “That girl gets too carried away with men. If she’s still naked in bed, I’ll need help wrapping her in a sheet and throwing her out the second-floor window to sober up.”

Vasilia was amused by Alibeth’s harsh words, which put her in a slightly better mood. She really didn’t want to step into this roadside tavern, but since Alibeth said so, Vasilia also thought Shana needed some restraint.

“Alright,” she said.

The two pretty girls received a chorus of whistles and lewd or covetous looks as they walked into the tavern, along with a small portion of disdain.

For example:

“What is that? A woman?”

“Where do such tall women come from, fuck…”

“Freak. Maybe she’s a witch…”

Alibeth coldly glanced at the corner, where a few men were commenting on Vasilia’s figure. The men, who thought they were quiet enough, immediately shut up under her imposing gaze.

“Don’t mind them,” Alibeth said as she made her way through the tables and crowd with Vasilia. “They’re just a bunch of wimps.” If it came to a fight, even together, they wouldn’t be enough for them to warm up.

Vasilia didn’t mind at all. Like everyone else, hunting the opposite sex was one of her purposes in traveling the continent, but she always liked men who were strong enough. Appearance was secondary. The main thing was to be tall, robust, and have a beast-like quality…

Vasilia suddenly stopped.

“Vasilia?” Alibeth, standing on the stairs, looked back in confusion.

Vasilia withdrew her gaze.

“Nothing,” Vasilia said.

As they walked up the third-floor corridor, they heard Shana’s naturally slightly hoarse and uninhibited laughter. There was no need to search—the wide-open door and the noisy room were undoubtedly their target.

“Shana!” Alibeth stood at the door with her hands on her hips, frowning at the overwhelming smell of alcohol inside.

Shana, with freckles on her nose, was sitting cross-legged on the bed, playing dice with a long-haired man. There were three or four other people in the room, both men and women, clapping, cheering, and laughing heartily.

“Alibeth, why are you here? Feeling lonely without me?” Shana was wearing only a thin robe, which seemed to be wrapped haphazardly around her body, almost fitting Alibeth’s prediction of “wrapping her naked in a sheet”.

“You’ve been playing for too long. Remember, we have to leave for Lakan City tomorrow?” Alibeth said helplessly. “Have you been fooling around in this room for the past few days?”

The long-haired man touched Shana’s thigh. “Shana, baby, are you leaving me?”

Shana threw the dice aside and leaned against him. “No, leaving you would be worse than death.”

Alibeth was used to Shana’s behavior, but the noisy crowd in the room made her a bit impatient. She glanced at the men and women on the carpet who ignored her, seriously considering whether to throw them all out first.

Vasilia approached Alibeth, who was half a head shorter. Even without entering the room, she could see inside.

“There’s been a change, Shana,” Vasilia said expressionlessly. “‘Over there’ sent a message.”

Both Alibeth and Shana’s expressions changed almost immediately. Shana straightened up, tied her messy curls into a ponytail, and effortlessly jumped off the bed.

“Shana?” The handsome, dark-skinned man was a bit taken aback.

“I love you, Ronan, but I have to go.” Shana blew him a kiss. “It’s okay if you forget me.”

Alibeth had no interest in irrelevant people. She and Shana followed Vasilia into the hallway, eagerly asking, “What message? Is there a mission?”

Vasilia’s performance and rank in the family were higher than theirs, so the two girls fully trusted that Vasilia had received orders from their superiors.

“Oh, two days ago, Lord Yelia said, ‘Return by the first snowfall this year,'” Vasilia said.

Alibeth and Shana: “…Is that it?”

This kind of notification was clearly a mass message, only differing in the time of receipt!

Alibeth realized that Vasilia was making an excuse to get Shana out. She slapped Shana alertly. “Alright, do you still want to go back? We need to leave as planned tomorrow.”

Shana shrugged. “But Ronan has great skills, and he’s gentle and patient.”

She said this, but she had no intention of turning back.

Vasilia led the way down the stairs. “Gentle… you like such weak men?”

“I’m not like you,” Shana said. “Or rather, you’re not like most women. I know you like those gladiators who can match you in a fight—oh.”

She let out a teasing whistle.

Alibeth, walking last, didn’t understand why Shana suddenly stopped on the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, puzzled.

Shana stepped aside to make room for her.

Alibeth saw that Vasilia had already walked down the stairs, but instead of leaving, she went to a corner. In that dimly lit corner, a man sat at a table against the wall. He was very tall, with broad shoulders and long legs. Most importantly, his seemingly ordinary posture and clothing couldn’t hide his superior physique—Alibeth was sure that beneath those clothes were well-trained muscles.

The warriors of the Lion Family were like that, shaping their bodies through years of rigorous training. The man exuded a similar aura, and Alibeth was surprised she hadn’t noticed him when they entered.

But clearly, Vasilia had.

She walked to the table and sat down directly.

“Want a drink?” she asked.

The tall man, even while sitting, was a head taller than others. He glanced at Vasilia, but his gaze lingered on her face rather than her boldly exposed chest.

His scrutiny was almost presumptuous, but Vasilia didn’t feel offended.

“No,” he said.

Vasilia wasn’t angry at the refusal. Instead, she showed her first smile of the night with great interest.

“Is it because I’m not attractive enough?” she bluntly asked. “Do you prefer pure, pitiful girls?”

The tables along the tavern walls were designed for one or two people. Both of them were taller than average, so even sitting normally, their long legs were already touching under the table.

Vasilia leaned forward, bringing her face closer to his. “Am I not your type?”

The men around them stared, but her target leaned forward, easily blocking most of their view.

His move seemed intimate, as if he were about to kiss Vasilia’s earlobe, but only she heard his low, steady voice.

“I don’t sleep with a Lioness.” His naturally deep voice deliberately lowered and vibrated the air, giving Vasilia goosebumps.

As he finished, he started to pull back, but Vasilia grabbed his collar, preventing him from retreating.

“How about a fight?” Vasilia’s eyes sparkled with flames. “If you lose, you listen to me.”

The man was silent for a moment, then pried her hand off.

“What if you lose?” he asked.

“I won’t lose.” Vasilia was always confident.

“Oh,” the man said softly. “Then you’d better remember the name of the first person to defeat you.”

“My name is McMullen.”

The author has something to say:

Just writing whatever comes to mind.

Their reunion is in Chapter 180.

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

Chapter 217

“Charlie! Charlie!”

“Charlie—ah!”

Lorraine crossed the neatly trimmed boxwood bushes and found himself nearly stepping on his friend, which startled him.

Charlie was lying so close to the boxwood that it was hard to notice someone was hiding there, sleeping.

Charlie was already awake, but the winter sun warming his body made him feel too lazy to move.

Lorraine lifted the textbook covering Charlie’s face. “I’ve been looking for you for ages. How did you end up here?”

Charlie opened his eyes and yawned long and hard. “What time is it now?”

“It’s at least four o’clock. You missed lunch. John and Leflar said they haven’t seen you all day,” Lorraine looked at Charlie and couldn’t help but laugh. “Is it because graduation is approaching, and the many clingy admirers are annoying you?”

“No, that’s not it.” Charlie sat up, pulled two apples out of his robe pocket, and handed one to Lorraine. “I stayed up late last night. Calvin insisted I revise—”

Lorraine looked at him disapprovingly.

“Revise the graduation speech,” Charlie insisted on finishing. “This is the third time. If he’s still not satisfied, I won’t give it. Honestly, I didn’t want to give the speech in the first place.”

“You should address him as Professor Calvin,” Lorraine said. “And giving the speech on behalf of all graduates is an honor. It proves the school and teachers recognize your excellence.”

Charlie shrugged. “Their requirements are too many.”

“Like what?”

“Like no mentions of poop or farts, no jokes about cats, no encouraging other students to ignore their grades and only study what interests them—”

“That’s reasonable! Are you planning to say those things in front of the whole school?” Lorraine said incredulously. “Joking in that setting is inappropriate… Wait, the cat joke—is it about the dean you nicknamed ‘Big White Cat’?”

Charlie brushed the grass off his backpack, pretending not to hear his friend’s question.

“I need to see the professor before dinner.” Charlie dodged Lorraine’s hammer of justice, laughing as he ran. “Don’t wait for me to eat. You know how long-winded he can be.”

Lorraine watched Charlie’s retreating figure with exasperation, still wanting to remind him to be polite to the teachers, but he saw someone approaching and stopped.

“Senior Lorraine!” Two lower-year girls passing by brightened up when they saw Lorraine.

Lorraine turned around and adjusted his glasses.

“Senior, congratulations on being accepted by Golden Fountain Pharmaceuticals ahead of graduation—this is their first time hiring a student who hasn’t graduated yet. You’re amazing!”

Lorraine smiled at them. “Thank you.”

One of the girls, with short hair, hesitated before asking expectantly, “Will Senior Charlie stay at the school? We heard the dean wants him to be Professor Calvin’s assistant.”

“That’s also a first for the academy, right?” her lively friend chimed in.

Lorraine shook his head. “Where do you hear these rumors? I can’t answer for Charlie.”

“Do you know where he is? We haven’t seen him in the cafeteria these days.” The short-haired girl, persistent about Charlie, pressed on.

Lorraine glanced in the direction Charlie had run, but the target was long gone.

“You’ll see him at the graduation ceremony,” he said.

“The graduation ceremony is a serious occasion.” Calvin frowned immediately upon seeing Charlie’s appearance. “Don’t let me see you looking like this then—look at you!”

He raised his hand, and a standing mirror, taller than a person, walked over on its gilded legs, positioning itself in front of Charlie.

Charlie’s robe and hair were both a mess from sleeping, his eyes still red from yawning, and his shirt collar and tie were nowhere to be seen.

“Because I was focused on revising the speech, Professor,” Charlie said politely. “I couldn’t pay attention to my appearance.”

Calvin took the stack of papers Charlie handed over but didn’t look through them immediately. He set them aside.

“The suggestion I gave you last time, have you considered it?” Calvin asked.

Charlie thought for a moment. “Thank you, Professor, but I still don’t think staying at the school for too long suits me.”

“The outside world is complicated and can’t support you like the academy. You have magical talent, Charlie. It would be best if you could continue to hone it.”

Charlie looked at Calvin. The temperamental old man before him was a renowned grand magus across the continent, and almost every magic academy of any size used textbooks he had written. However…

Charlie lowered his eyes to look at his toes.

“But I have to go home first, Professor,” he said solemnly. “I’ve been away too long. My parents miss me. If I stayed at the school right after graduation, they might travel a long way to protest to the dean.”

Calvin understood his star pupil well, so he couldn’t help but sigh.

“I’ll keep a position for you,” Calvin finally said. “If you regret it within five years, come back anytime.”

Charlie blinked. “Professor, do you only have love and patience for me for five years?”

“Because I’m already very old!” Calvin eventually couldn’t help but roar, like an angry groundhog.

“Alright, alright, don’t get so worked up.” Charlie backed out of Calvin’s office, still laughing. “I’ll seriously consider it. I promise.”

Calvin took a deep breath, and after Charlie had completely exited the room, he reluctantly added, “If you encounter any problems, write back and discuss them with me.”

“Okay—” Charlie’s voice echoed back from the corridor.

Monterey Academy was the most famous and oldest magic school on the continent, excelling in every aspect except for its peculiar timing for admissions and graduation: entrance exams were held during the hottest part of summer, and graduation was in winter—after the graduation ceremony, dormitories would be reclaimed and organized, and graduates who had traveled from afar would have to embark on their journey home in the cold of winter.

Some students with poor health or affluent families would stay in the city until spring, as they could get a good discount with their academy badge and spend a cozy winter by a burning fireplace.

Charlie’s roommates planned to do just that, so even as the departure time approached, they hadn’t packed much because the booked hotels offered packing services.

Only Charlie’s belongings were gradually being packed up.

When he walked into the dormitory, he saw the tall John examining his suitcase.

“Are you really not spending the winter with us, Charlie?” John asked again when he saw him. “Leflar and I rented suites, and there’s definitely room for one more. If you’re worried about the rent—”

“That’s not the reason.” Charlie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Leflar, we’re about to graduate, and you still think I’m a poor kid driven out by my stepmother, barely managing to study with my mother’s small inheritance? I may not be rich, but I—”

“Don’t mind him, Charlie,” John, who was sitting on a single sofa, interrupted. “Because his father is so rich, everyone else seems poor to him.”

“Except Lorraine,” John added. “He’s also a young master.”

At that moment, Lorraine pushed the door open and looked relieved to see Charlie.

“So, you’re back,” Lorraine said. “I was about to send a scout to notify you: that girl is waiting for you downstairs again. Did you come up through the west tower?”

“Elena?” Charlie was a bit surprised. “I did come up through the tower because it’s closer to Professor Calvin’s office.”

“Why does she keep coming to you?” Leflar frowned. “This is too persistent. Other girls aren’t like this. What’s she after this time? Afraid she won’t see you again and wants to propose?”

“Don’t say that.” Charlie put his robe back on. “I’ll go persuade her.”

“No,” John said a bit forcefully. “Elena’s been pestering you for a while. You promised not to give her any hope, which is best for everyone.”

“I don’t intend to give her hope, but it might snow tonight. If I ignore her, she’ll wait downstairs all night again.” Charlie glanced at the weather jar by his bed.

“I’ll go convince her to leave.” John stood up from the sofa. “You sit tight.”

“I’ll go too.” Lorraine hadn’t taken off his coat and turned to open the door.

“I’ll go!” Leflar stood up, but John and Lorraine said in unison, “You sit down!”

He was startled and sat back on the bed, looking like a bullied big dog.

Charlie squatted on the carpet, continuing to pack his suitcase.

Leflar asked him, “Are you going home? Why are you in such a hurry?”

Charlie didn’t stop packing, stuffing several towels into his suitcase. “Probably. Most people go home, right?”

Leflar watched his movements and suddenly said, “So, you’re not going home.”

Charlie looked up at him in surprise. The big dog rarely showed such insight.

“You never tell us where your home is. Now we’re about to graduate. Where should we send letters to you in the future?” Leflar pressed on. “You never say anything. It’s not right, Charlie.”

Charlie said, “Alright, I’m actually not going home, Leflar. I plan to wander around the continent, not sure where I’ll go, so I can’t give you an address. But I’ll write to you and tell you where I am, what kind of scenery I see, and who—”

“What kind of beauties you’ll meet.” Leflar immediately shifted his focus.

Charlie laughed. “Yes!”

“That sounds romantic. I’d like to try it too.” Leflar said longingly. “Adventuring across the continent, pursuing the most beautiful girls, defeating the most evil forces of darkness, saving the world!”

“But your father won’t allow it,” Charlie reminded him.

“You’re right.” Leflar immediately deflated. “He doesn’t trust me, thinks I’m useless. If only I have your talent. The professors all say you’ll become a great mage.”

“You have talent. No one in the academy has more athletic talent than you, just like Lorraine’s talent in potions and John’s talent in applied mechanics. You all taught me a lot. Otherwise, my exam scores wouldn’t be so good.”

“My father says I’m a big fool compared to you all,” Leflar said.

“Does he say that to Monterey’s star captain? Do the girls who cheer for you agree?”

The two boys stared at each other across the four-poster bed for a moment, then burst into laughter, making Lorraine and John, who came in afterward, puzzled.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“Charlie said he’ll write to us during his adventures.”

“Adventures? What adventures?”

“Saving the world adventures.”

“What the hell… Hahaha!”

Teenage boys always had a low threshold for laughter. Soon, the four were laughing together. The tightly closed windows kept the warmth and noise inside. No one noticed the tiny snowflakes starting to fall outside.

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

Chapter 216

Charlie forcefully jabbed the ceiling with a broomstick, causing several spiders to fall down with the dust, quickly scurrying into the gaps in the corners.

Dwight stepped back abruptly, but through the sunlight streaming into the room, he could still see countless tiny particles swirling in the air, making his skin crawl.

“That’s why I suggested you tie up your hair.” Seeing his reaction, Charlie turned around with a smile, resting his chin on the broom handle. “Proper protective measures are essential for a deep clean.”

“Can’t we just—”

“No,” Charlie interrupted, looking displeased. “This house is full of my treasures. I can’t just let anyone come in and touch everything.”

A few minutes ago, the Duke of Brandenburg, who didn’t even know what a broom was specifically used for, felt a bit angry. He thought anything on him could fetch enough money to buy this old house, making it entirely unnecessary to spend time and effort cleaning it himself. However, he then realized that Charlie’s words classified him as “one of his own”, which soothed his anger quite a bit.

Even though it was hard for him to accept standing in a large pile of dust.

Charlie could clearly see that Dwight was very uncomfortable now, so he gently pushed him outside the door. “Take a walk anywhere you like and buy some food. Tonight, there’s no way we can clean the oven in time.”

Dwight was pushed onto the porch, and then Charlie shut the door with a bang and continued his battle.

With nothing to do, the Duke of Brandenburg could only wander aimlessly along the street. Occasionally, residents of Maplewood would cast curious glances at him. But Charlie had prepared a potion that temporarily changed his skin and hair color. Combined with Charlie’s skillful makeup techniques, the Duke’s imposing appearance was significantly toned down, so the passersby were more curious than intimidated.

“Good afternoon, sir!” A passerby greeted him.

Dwight nodded at him.

“Where are you from?” The other person, an elderly man, seemed very talkative.

“Lemena,” the Duke replied.

“Ah, that’s a good place, but our Maplewood syrup cakes are also good.” The old man tipped his hat to him as they passed each other on the narrow stone bridge.

Dwight didn’t know where the syrup cakes were sold, but the smell of baking wafting along the street was an obvious guide. He walked with his hands in his pockets, his mind wandering.

Previously, Charlie had lived in Maplewood for quite a while when he was still Rabbit Head, selling some mystical trinkets to the residents who came to his door.

On idle afternoons without business, Rabbit Head might also wander around like he was now, and upon smelling the aroma, would surely head in that direction.

At the end of the street, the cobblestone path turned into a wide stone road. Occasionally, carriages passed by, with lanterns hanging from the front, swaying violently but never falling off.

Among the residences, there were some shops, all family-run. Some sold dried herbs, some handmade leather boots, and others fruits. None of this was surprising. There was also a very small house with a foldable door panel displaying several large glass jars filled with various brightly colored liquids, shining in the sunlight.

A delightful drink shop, the kind Rabbit Head loved.

Dwight stopped. The middle-aged woman inside, knitting, noticed a customer and enthusiastically promoted her beet juice and orange juice.

They were quite cheap.

Thinking about the dust swirling at 22 Paulownia Street, he asked the shopkeeper to add an extra handful of crushed mint leaves to the orange juice and bought the entire large glass jar.

The prices in this small town were fair. The Duke of Brandenburg, rarely shopping, was misled by this appearance. By the time he finally bought the freshly baked sweet bread, he found his arms were already full. Adding the bread bag would completely block his view.

The shopkeeper, holding the bread bag, made a gesture, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Dwight didn’t want to carry such a large pile of things back. He looked around and nodded towards a boy carrying a large tray of baked goods from the back.

“Your son?” he asked the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper nodded.

“I’ll pay a silver coin if he delivers these things back for me.”

Such a matter-of-fact tone sounded a bit rude, but neither the shopkeeper nor his son minded.

“That’s too much,” the shopkeeper said. “You bought my bread, so you could—”

Dwight ignored him, transferring all the items in his hands to the muscular boy. “22 Paulownia Street. Leave it on the porch. No need to ring the bell.”

The boy glanced at his father, eagerly accepting the task.

The shopkeeper’s attention was indeed diverted.

“22 Paulownia Street?” He raised his voice. “Isn’t that Charlie’s house? Is Charlie back?”

“Are you Charlie’s friend? That rascal! Coming back without a word…” The shopkeeper returned the silver coin and the money for the bread to Dwight. “Here. You don’t need to pay.”

Dwight didn’t quite understand the shopkeeper’s sudden excitement and didn’t take the money back. “This is what you deserve.”

“Is Charlie really back?” The shopkeeper confirmed again.

Dwight said, “Yes. He came back to check on the house.”

The other person seemed to have many more questions for him, but Dwight wasn’t very good at handling such direct emotional interactions. Taking advantage of the moment when another customer arrived, he quickly walked away.

Hiring the bakery boy as a temporary porter was a good idea because Dwight bought many more items on his way back—a variety of things so miscellaneous and mysterious that he couldn’t even explain why he suddenly felt the need for them.

“Celery, carrots, and lettuce.” Charlie squatted on the porch, taking inventory of the items scattered around. “Tell me honestly, do you prefer my head as a rabbit? There’s no need to be so subtle. If you want, I can cooperate.”

“There are also roasted meat and sweet bread.” Dwight used his heel to nudge a bag of onions inside.

“Alright, help me move all these to the kitchen.” Charlie sighed, picking up several bags first. “You bought enough to throw a party. I told you we should have brought George and Shiloh along. I don’t know why you insisted on not bringing even Shivers this time.”

If Shivers were here, at least there would be an extra hand for cleaning. However, Charlie was used to doing things himself and managed to make the house livable just as the sun set.

“George has a sensitive nose. He would keep sneezing if he stayed in an old house for too long.” Dwight casually placed a basket of apples on the kitchen floor. “Unless you want to spend the whole night staying up helping him blow his nose.”

Charlie turned to face him, arms crossed.

“I haven’t asked you yet. How did you raise my nephew like this? He’s sick more often than Louis was as a child.” Charlie looked like he was accusing him of a crime.

“Priscilla was like that when she was little.” Dwight didn’t even look at him, striding into the kitchen with his long legs.

Charlie sulkily dropped his hands.

“We left him behind and came to Maplewood. He must be crying again.” Charlie and Dwight moved the dining table into place and lit several candles (because the gas lamps weren’t working due to unpaid bills).

Dwight, without looking up, placed bread, roast meat, and juice on the table. “Even if we were all in Brandenburg, he would cry every day.”

It was fine before, but since Charlie arrived, George had become the world’s biggest crybaby. He cried when he woke up at night, cried when he saw bugs, and cried even more when he lost a fight with the cat—because Charlie always went to hold him.

Facing the Duke’s reproachful look, Charlie quickly changed the subject. “Elly’s drinks, Old Fred’s bread, Red-Nosed Joe’s best roast pork—you bought all my favorite things from before. Does this mean our love has sublimated into tacit understanding?”

Dwight’s response was a light kick to him under the table.

Although they had left in a hurry, Charlie had made thorough preparations: the furniture was covered with dust cloths, fragile items were put away in drawers, doors and windows were tightly shut, and even the plants in the front garden were entrusted to a neighbor for care. They were still thriving.

Charlie’s room was on the second floor, facing the street, with a large wooden window but no balcony. Charlie liked the feeling of fresh air, so he placed his bed by the window. If he opened the curtains, he could see the moon while lying in bed.

Tonight, the moon was large and round. He sat on the windowsill, gazing at the quiet, empty Paulownia Street. The streetlights were still on, with many moths flying around the light clusters. Charlie watched, lost in thought.

Until an arm encircled his waist from behind.

Charlie turned around to see Dwight, who had woken up without him noticing.

“Sorry, is the wind too strong?” Charlie wanted to close the window a bit, but Dwight stopped him.

The Duke of Brandenburg had grown up and was much stronger—though he was never weak to begin with.

“What are you thinking about?” Dwight asked.

Charlie slid down from the windowsill and lay back on the bed, facing Dwight.

“I was thinking about the past,” he said. “About our old life.”

Dwight had washed off his disguise from earlier; his long, pale golden hair spread out on the bed sheet, looking like he had stolen half a moon from the sky.

“More happy memories or sad ones?” he asked again.

Charlie: “……”

Despite everything, this guy’s bluntness never changed for love.

“More sad memories,” Charlie admitted. “I was thinking about Columbus. This house has never been so quiet.”

Dwight pulled Charlie into his arms like George hugging a toy, then wrapped them both in a blanket.

“I knew it.” His voice was muffled under the blanket. “Hiding his base on the porch wouldn’t help.”

Charlie: “…Wait, you hid it? I thought some mischievous kid took it today!”

The little tin soldier used to have a base on the porch, not for any practical purpose but just to look more like a purely decorative toy. When new visitors knocked on the door, it was Rabbit Head and the tin soldier’s shared hobby to scare them by suddenly speaking.

Dwight said, “I knew you would miss him when you came back. I knew you would be sad, so I didn’t let anyone else come along.”

Charlie fumbled under the blanket to pinch his face. “I don’t get the logic.”

“You always don’t want to show your sadness.” Dwight ignored his actions and continued, “You don’t want to be seen—but I’m not ‘anyone’. If anyone can make you less sad, I hope it’s only me.”

Charlie began to understand what Dwight meant. He pulled back the blanket covering them, revealing Dwight’s face, whose eyes, light as a handicraft, were staring at him unblinkingly.

“In return,” Dwight pulled Charlie closer, resting his chin on his shoulder, “As long as you feel better, I’ll fulfill any wish you have. Just say it.”

Charlie chuckled softly. “Any wish? That sounds familiar. Did you wait to say this until we were at 22 Paulownia Street on purpose?”

“Romantic, isn’t it?” Dwight asked seriously.

“Romantic to death,” Charlie replied just as seriously, kissing the tip of his ear. “My wish has long been fulfilled. Love, you are a remarkable shopkeeper.”

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Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

Chapter 215

“Arnie!” Priscilla quickly ran down the steps, tightly hugging her little brother, who had just gotten off the carriage.

She hugged him so tightly that Arnie could barely breathe.

“Priscilla.” Arnie comfortingly patted her back.

“Are you—are you okay?” Priscilla asked excitedly.

“Alright, do we have to stand here to talk?” Duke Dwight laughed. “Priscilla, let your mother and I catch our breath—this trip wasn’t easy.”

Priscilla gripped Arnie’s hand tightly, afraid that if she let go, her brother would disappear again. “Tell me, where have you been?”

There was no one in Brandenburg who wasn’t worried about Arnie.

He was placed on the large sofa in the living room, surrounded by a circle of people, staring at his face, checking if he had been mistreated.

Arnie, of course, hadn’t been mistreated.

Although the conditions in the forest were a bit rough, the Nawen tribe didn’t mistreat this young nobleman. When he returned, Arnie’s cheeks were still round and full, and his skin as tender as it was before he left home.

The young master of the Dwight family was still the cutest child in Lemena.

Knowing his sister was frightened, Arnie, unusually, sat close to Priscilla, slowly recounting the story of how the big, dumb guy from the Nawen tribe privately ran off to become a bandit and how the seer allowed him into the elf ruins.

Although she shared the same blood as her brother, Priscilla wasn’t very interested in elves. She repeatedly checked if Arnie was hurt, and although he assured her he had a decent time, Priscilla couldn’t believe he hadn’t been wronged, being taken alone to an unfamiliar environment.

“You’re the heir of Brandenburg.” Priscilla was still displeased with the troublesome relative. “You haven’t been without attendants since you were little—did the Nawen tribe know what you like to eat? Did they know that coarse fabrics would chafe your skin?”

In Priscilla’s eyes, five-year-old Arnie was still a baby (though she believed that at nine, she was mature enough), and how could he be without constant care?

Arnie was a bit confused. The long journey made his mind sluggish, and recalling specific details was suddenly very tiring.

Priscilla immediately noticed his fatigue and asked Elaby to arrange for him to wash up and sleep.

“When you wake up, there will be a surprise,” Priscilla said. “Have a good dream, Arnie.”

But Arnie didn’t sleep well. Perhaps it was because he had been away, lying in his big bed, tossing and turning, feeling something was off.

He wanted someone to sleep with him tonight—but Arnie was too embarrassed to ask.

So he got out of bed, pulled the largest long pillow from the closet, dragged it back to bed, and only then barely managed to fall asleep holding it.

Duke Dwight asked Elaby to wake Arnie around three in the afternoon. Rest was important, but overindulgence could disrupt Arnie’s otherwise excellent habits.

Arnie was quite grumpy when woken up today, unwilling to get out of bed, and was eventually carried out of the bedroom by Elaby.

“He might have a slight fever.” Elaby worriedly told the Duke, feeling that the child’s neck and hands were a bit warm.

“Check again in half an hour. He just got out of the covers.” The Duke had a hat put on Arnie, then took the grumpy little boy into his arms.

“Arnie, the capital has a gift for you.” The Duke coaxed as they left the castle. “Don’t you want to see what it is?”

Arnie, resting his head on his father’s shoulder, wasn’t very enthusiastic. “What is it?”

The Duke felt his son had become clingier after the incident, as Arnie wasn’t usually this affectionate. He softened his voice. “Two ponies—the Emperor sent them for you.”

There wasn’t a boy who disliked horses. Arnie indeed perked up, finally lifting his head. “Where are they?”

“Albert is bringing them over.” The Duke put him down. They were in a beautiful grassy area outside the castle, with the sun shining warmly but not too strongly.

Arnie’s eyes widened as he saw Albert riding over, followed by two small ponies, one black and one white, very cute.

“They’re still very young.” Albert dismounted and smiled at Arnie. “Do you want to pet them?”

Of course, he did.

The ponies were about the same height as Arnie, very friendly. Arnie petted them all over, finally smiling.

“These are a gift from the Emperor.” The Duke squatted beside Arnie, petting the ponies with him. “Your mother and I also have a gift for you. Although it’s a bit early, we think it’s time to consider your knight candidate.”

The Dwight family had a long history, and their inherited wealth was astonishing, but the responsibilities each heir had to bear were equally significant, making the head’s safety paramount. The Brandenburg Knights were established for this purpose.

Arnie knew he would have a knight eventually, but he didn’t like playing with other kids. Brandenburg had only two children, but the capital had many princes, princesses, and other noble kids. Boys his age were always too excited and sweaty, and while girls liked him, he didn’t like being touched.

Arnie asked, “Can’t I have Alfred?”

Though Alfred was his father’s knight, Arnie thought that when he inherited the title, Alfred would still be strong enough—he didn’t mind men being older.

The Duke laughed heartily. “You don’t want Alfred to retire? He would cry if he heard that. Apparently, he found a promising young candidate among the Nawen tribe to bring back as an apprentice.”

Arnie didn’t like hearing this and moved behind the pony, staying silent.

Both Arnie and the potential knight candidates were still very young. The Duke didn’t want to force Arnie to accept immediately, so he gently suggested, “For now, it’s just a trial. We haven’t decided who will be your knight. You have many years before you come of age, so think of it as having a few more friends to grow up with. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Arnie said, “But I want Alfred.”

The Duke pulled him close and stood up, holding him with one arm.

“Duke Dwight will have only one Knight Commander. Alfred and I met when we were very young.” The Duke said, “He will protect you, Priscilla, and your mother with his life, but that’s because his oath of loyalty is to me, before you were born.”

“When you inherit the title, Alfred will still love you like your mother, sister, and I do, but it will be a different kind of responsibility—you’ll understand that in time.” The Duke patted his head, in the same way, he had just petted the pony.

……

“So, they’re all future Brandenburg Knights?” Erica leaned on the windowsill and looked down. Brandenburg often held banquets, but it was rare for the main characters to be children, like today. She was a bit curious.

“Erica, can’t you act a bit more ladylike?” Albert, with a headache, pulled his sister down. “Why are you still wearing that? Where’s the dress mother prepared for you?”

Erica rolled her eyes at her brother and ran off as soon as she landed.

Albert didn’t have time to catch her. He was very busy today. Just dealing with the grumpy Young Master Arnie was enough for everyone.

“Still haven’t found him?” he asked the person hurriedly passing by the terrace.

The person gave a wry smile. Brandenburg was so large that a small child could hide anywhere, making it hard to find him.

“Albert!” Elaby leaned over. “Can you see what Miss Priscilla is doing down there?”

Albert was stunned for a second.

The castle garden’s lawn was decorated with many things children liked. The long table covered with a white tablecloth was filled with candies, puddings, small cookies, and drinks, stretching as far as the eye could see. But among the guests, the slightly older children looked a bit puzzled, just like their parents.

Everyone knew that this banquet was held by the Duke to select playmates—or rather, knights—for his son. Although all the invited children came from good families, titles and wealth couldn’t withstand the increasing division among more and more descendants.

Parents with some foresight were consciously seeking future prospects for their children, and this was undoubtedly a great opportunity. Regardless of whether their children could understand the significance, they emphasized before departure that it was crucial to leave a deep impression on the future Duke Dwight. Making friends would be even better.

But who could have thought that the main target wasn’t present?

“I was going to bring the rocking horse in advance, but Miss Priscilla said she had other plans.” Elaby had a headache. “Please, see what she’s up to?”

“No.” Albert looked at Priscilla on the lawn below. With Arnie not around, she was naturally the focus of the banquet, currently talking to everyone. From this distance, Elaby couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it was clear everyone was listening attentively.

“She said to let the children find Master Arnie.” Albert, skilled in lip-reading, easily relayed what was happening on the lawn.

“The first one to find him gets a mysterious prize… Miss Priscilla is really clever.” Albert raised an eyebrow.

A hide-and-seek game was naturally more interesting than being led by parents to perform talents. The children didn’t need much prompting and soon left the lawn.

“But where did Master Arnie go?” Elaby wondered. “We’ve searched all his usual places.”

Arnie was in a tree.

No one knew he could climb trees—not even himself. It was a sudden whim. Walking in the garden, he saw the tree with the densest crown and suddenly wanted to climb it.

So he did. He didn’t think he missed the Nawen tribe’s high-hanging wooden house, but he was willing to admit that the smell of the trees improved his mood.

Arnie sat on the trunk with his legs dangling, occasionally seeing people looking for him through the branches and leaves, feeling a mischievous glee. The sunlight filtering through the gaps warmed him, making him drowsy.

‘No one knows I’m here,’ he thought. ‘No one can find this place.’

So Arnie comfortably hugged the trunk and fell asleep. When he woke up again, the air had turned a bit cool.

“You’re awake?” someone asked.

Arnie leaned forward to look. On another branch, a child sat, looking older than him, very handsome, especially with that pure golden hair—it looked like the sun had fallen onto the tree.

Arnie hugged the trunk and said nothing.

He wanted to go down but suddenly realized he didn’t quite know how to climb down.

Without a response, the boy wasn’t annoyed. He skillfully stood up on the trunk and started climbing down using the protruding branches and knots. Arnie watched him without blinking, then slowly extended a foot, imitating him.

He was a bit scared, but the boy didn’t climb down all at once. Instead, he waited on the lower branch for Arnie.

Arnie slid down a bit, and the boy would lead the way down a bit further until both of them were on the ground. Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief and smile at Arnie.

“You climbed really high,” he said.

Not far away, someone shouted and ran toward the two suddenly appearing children. Arnie tilted his head to look at him and finally spoke. “Can you climb to the top of the tree? The highest point.”

The boy looked up. “I probably can, but it’s best not to. It’s the season for White Arc Birds and Snow Finches to raise their chicks. Their nests are high up, and humans climbing up would scare the adult birds.”

“Oh.” Arnie also looked up at the top of the tree but couldn’t see if there were nests. He wanted to say something else but was scooped up by the rushing Elaby.

“Master!” Elaby could hardly control himself. “You’ve been missing for hours. The Lady was about to cry.”

The people who followed Elaby surrounded them, checking if the two children were hurt.

“By the way, you—” Elaby, holding Arnie, turned to the boy standing there, looking much more relaxed. “Thank you for finding him. What’s your name?”

“Just a coincidence, sir,” the boy replied. “My name is Shivers.”

The author has something to say:

Arnie’s memories are a bit disordered after just returning home. He still has some traces of living with Rabbit Head, but he can’t find the source.

The two ponies are Araceae and Midnight, who appeared at the beginning.

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