Chapter 153: The Fraudulent Wizard (Part IV)

After offering a kindly reminder, the middle-aged woman chuckled, waddled away with a pigeon-toed gait, and swung her hips as she departed. The setting sun sank a fraction lower, casting long, stretched shadows of both Zhao Nan and Yeyue across the narrow street. Gradually, their shadows began to overlap.

Suddenly, Yeyue took Zhao Nan by the hand.

"We should head home, otherwise Anya really will throw a tantrum."

Yeyue smiled, looking radiantly and touchingly happy as she leaned her head against his shoulder and asked tenderly, "What would you like for dinner tonight?"

……

……

It felt surreal, yet a voice deep inside his mind kept telling him that this was the most real thing of all. And yet, he felt as though something was not quite right—or so Zhao Nan told himself.

Ever since that middle-aged woman had appeared, he had accepted with suspicious ease the fact that Yeyue was his wife. Moreover, she seemed to have slipped into the role with even greater ease. Following a dragonfly-light kiss beneath the setting sun, she had skipped happily back home, turning around at the doorway to wave—the very picture of a virtuous wife waiting for her husband to return.

This was a modest little house with just two rooms and a bathroom. The kitchen and living room were combined. Zhao Nan sat on a somewhat rigid bench, gently tapping the back of his head against the wall behind him as he watched Yeyue skillfully chopping vegetables.

Is she really my wife?

"Daddy! Daddy! Tell me what happened today!"

A sweet, delicate voice rang out.

A little loli with long, snow-white hair, an obedient demeanor, and an innocent face suddenly lunged onto Zhao Nan, clinging to him and refusing to stand back up.

His daughter.

Little Anya.

This was the little girl who had appeared before him when the door was opened. Zhao Nan was certain that he did not dislike this child; in fact, he felt a certain degree of fondness for her. If she truly was his daughter, it would make sense—the problem was, hadn't Yeyue said just moments ago that she had forgotten many things? Why had she suddenly remembered? A creeping sense of unease welled up inside Zhao Nan.

And it grew persistently stronger.

"Daddy, what's wrong? What are you thinking about?"

Little Anya reached out with both hands and cupped Zhao Nan's head, shaking it. "Wake up, wake up!"

Being shaken made his head throb slightly, and Zhao Nan couldn't help frowning. At that moment, Yeyue walked over and reached out to smooth away the frown between his brows. Squeezing in beside him, she asked curiously, "What are you worrying about? Dinner is almost ready!"

Zhao Nan shook his head, turned the little loli around, and scooped her up onto his lap. There was a mirror nearby. In the reflection, he looked so young, and Yeyue was just as youthful. The little loli was as exquisitely crafted as a porcelain doll. This was indeed the picture of a thoroughly happy and fulfilled family of three.

Yet, how could he possibly have a daughter who looked to be twelve or thirteen years old... while he himself, in the reflection, looked so young?

"Daddy, Daddy, what are you thinking about? Why won't you tell me?" The little loli puffed out her cheeks in displeasure, forcefully turning Zhao Nan's head back to face her.

Zhao Nan blinked and replied instinctively, "Nothing. I just think my little darling is speaking exceptionally fluently today. You're usually not one for many words."

"When have I ever not been one for many words?"

A violent headache struck him. The pain was so intense it was almost suffocating. Once again, Zhao Nan lost consciousness.

……

……

Lightly pressing a hand to his forehead, massaging his throbbing temples, Zhao Nan forced his eyes open. He pushed back the slightly heavy quilt, exposing his upper body, and instantly felt a chill in the air.

The moment he opened his eyes, a soft glow mingled with a cold breeze slipping through the window cracks, accompanied by the gentle, peaceful sound of breathing, filling the modest room.

"You're awake!"

A joyful voice came from beside his ear. Zhao Nan turned his head to see a pair of fluffy ears twitching in front of him, and Yeyue’s beautiful face immediately came into view. It seemed he had forgotten something again. He had been forgetting things all day long.

"How are you feeling?" Yeyue asked, her breath warm and sweet against his ear.

"What... happened to me?" Zhao Nan felt it necessary to get some straight answers.

"You suddenly passed out tonight, and you scared both me and the child half to death." Looking somewhat shaken, Yeyue pulled her hand out from under the covers and grabbed his other hand, which was also tucked beneath the blanket. "You frightened us to death. Afterwards, we called the village doctor, and he said you were simply exhausted and would be fine after some rest."

With that, she propped herself up slightly and re-tucked the corner of the quilt that had fallen away. "It's cold, be careful not to catch a cold."

Zhao Nan closed his eyes, his head resting on a soft feather pillow, and let out a sigh as he murmured, "Ah, yes... We were husband and wife to begin with."

"What are you talking about?" Yeyue propped herself up once more, bringing her face directly over his.

Opening his eyes to look at the person so close he could count her lashes, Zhao Nan instinctively said, "I was just thinking that perhaps having a home like this isn't so bad after all."

The corners of Yeyue's lips curved upward slightly, as if she were immensely gladdened by those words. She lowered her head, found the right angle, and gently pressed the tip of her tongue into his mouth.

Entangled and intertwined, the delicate sensation seemed to make one forget all worldly concerns, getting lost entirely within it.

Their breathing grew gradually heavier.

Suddenly, Yeyue lifted the hem of her thin, soft nightgown, gently took Zhao Nan's hand, and awkwardly guided it beneath the fabric. Feeling his cool palm press against her bare skin, she let out a soft, impassioned moan.

Cupping that soft and resilient curve, Zhao Nan realized his hand couldn't cover the entirety of it all at once. Instinctively, his fingers began to explore with gentle pressure, lightly dancing across the surface until they brushed against a tiny peak. His thumb and forefinger instinctively gave a slight pinch, causing the small bud to instantly harden.

Yeyue suddenly pressed her hand over her nightgown, halting his mischievous fingers, and drew back her lips. Her face was flushed, her gaze flickering with a hint of timid apprehension as she whispered, "Little Anya just fell asleep, and you haven't been feeling well today... Let's just sleep."

"Alright."

Zhao Nan withdrew his hand from beneath her clothes. Although his palm felt reluctant to part with that soft, alluring touch, a sense of relief washed over him inwardly.

Yeyue smoothed down her slightly disheveled nightgown, slid her head out from under Zhao Nan's arm, and rested it upon his chest.

The steady, peaceful sound of a heartbeat could be heard in the stillness, making his eyelids feel as heavy as lead, so burdensome he could barely keep them open.

In the dead of night, chaotic shouts suddenly rang out from outside the window.

Countless torches flickered and swayed past the windowpanes. Startled awake, Zhao Nan sprang up, yanked the curtains open, and saw that the street below was already packed with people, all of them wearing ferocious expressions. The glare of the torches instantly lit the entire street in a fiery crimson glow. (To be continued...)