Duke, You're a Bit Stiff (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 10
Meanwhile, Artia returned to her room with a satisfied smile on her face.
It had been a delightful time, getting to closely examine Heidegger’s body.
Of course, she hadn’t seen everything—he’d been dressed, after all. But she’d committed every exposed patch of skin to memory.
Heidegger’s physique was truly perfect.
She couldn’t feel completely satisfied since she hadn’t seen him entirely, but for a first day, it was an impressive haul.
If she’d given him too strong a stimulus right from the start, his suspicious nature might have led him to accuse her of using dark magic.
So instead of overwhelming him immediately, she’d only offered a subtle, teasing taste of her technique.
But one he’d never forget.
‘He won’t be able to stay away without coming back.’
There might be those who’d never tried it once, but anyone who had would never forget it.
That was precisely Kang Ji Ha’s hand technique from her past life.
Back then, people had even signed up for exercise classes at her wellness center just for a chance to receive her acupressure massage.
‘I didn’t expect him to fall asleep so quickly, though…’
The seemingly impenetrable Heidegger had dozed off after just a brief acupressure session—perhaps he’d been far more exhausted than she realized.
Artia was surprised by how quickly things had progressed.
‘He’s not usually this kind of character.’
Distrustful and never easily placing faith in others—this trait was shared not only by Heidegger and Cassus but by all the Wellington men.
Either way, it had turned out well.
Artia once again marveled at her own manual skill.
After gently circling and lightly pinching the areas behind Cerberus’s ears, along its lower back, and just beneath its tail—the upper-tier magical beast had relaxed its guard. Not only had she tamed the creature instantly, but she’d even made Heidegger, famously alert and sharp-eared, drift soundly off to sleep.
Admittedly, he hadn’t snored.
Each time the sleeping Heidegger breathed, his muscles rose and fell—Artia thought it the most beautiful sight in the world,
so much so she almost wished to swap bodies with him, leaving behind her own frail, slender frame.
“Madam! Where have you been?”
Kesha had been waiting outside the room.
Judging by how she was massaging her right arm with her left, she’d clearly overexerted herself in training yesterday.
“Oh, I just had a quick errand.”
“The whole mansion’s in an uproar talking about you right now.”
“Oh? What about you?”
“…….”
“Are you feeling any better?”
“Huh? Oh… no….”
Kesha let out a deep sigh, looking utterly drained.
“I feel like I’m going to die, Madam.”
“Right? Especially this spot—it must be killing you.”
Artia gently closed her eyes and firmly pressed a spot on Kesha’s body.
“Aaah! Aaaah! Madaaaam!”
Kesha thrashed about like a fish leaping out of water, her cheeks flushed crimson.
“Ugh… grrr! Gah!”
“It’s the stage where your body becomes more beautiful.”
Artia walked into her room and stretched out fully.
Massaging Heidegger’s firm, tough skin had drained a significant amount of her stamina.
However much she’d kneaded him—even with oil applied repeatedly—it had felt as unyielding as stone, testament to his relentless training.
‘Why is this happening? It wasn’t like this earlier…’
She’d thought she hadn’t exerted herself much, considering it just a “taste” of her technique—but now that exhaustion was catching up to her, it seemed she’d genuinely overdone it. Her vision even swam slightly.
“Madam, are you alright?”
Kesha limped over to support Artia.
Thud. Artia sank onto the bed, resting her head in her hands.
“I’d like to rest alone for a bit. Shouldn’t you take some rest too, Kesha?”
“Is that really alright?”
Kesha’s face brightened instantly at the suggestion.
“Yes. But still stick to your routine today. I’ll know tomorrow just by looking whether you did it or not.”
“Madam…”
“Follow the schedule, understood?”
“…Yes.”
“And if you keep breaking the toilet, just don’t bother.”
“I-I will! I’ll definitely do it!”
“Good. That’s the spirit.”
“Then please rest well, Madam.”
After sending Kesha out, Artia collapsed face-down onto the bed.
Her silvery hair spilled softly across the cozy bedding, making her pale skin appear even whiter.
In her past life, her complexion had leaned more toward a healthy tan—years of training under the blazing sun had darkened her skin considerably.
But with this skin tone, it seemed she wouldn’t tan even if she spent her entire life outdoors.
‘I thought I’d gotten used to it…’
Yet her new body still hadn’t fully settled in.
It felt like wearing ill-fitting clothes—still awkward and stiff. But what could she do?
She simply had to adapt.
“Cough.”
Thanks to recent overexertion, she’d started coughing.
And once it began, it wouldn’t stop.
“Cough! Cough-cough!”
She grabbed a handkerchief nearby and pressed it to her mouth.
Her throat stung. There was a faint trace of blood on the cloth.
‘Ah, right. I’m terminally ill.’
For a moment, Artia had forgotten she was on borrowed time.
Now, she was sharply reminded that her remaining days were steadily ticking away.
No matter how hard she struggled, that fact would never change.
‘But… maybe there’s still some way.’
She shook her head and reconsidered.
If she spent all her remaining time desperately searching for a cure, that time itself would simply slip through her fingers—creating an even bigger problem.
After all, the character “Artia” had only ever existed as flavoring—a side ingredient to spice up the story’s melodrama, doomed from beginning to end by an unrelenting streak of misery.
The author had wanted Artia to thrash helplessly in a swamp of misfortune.
That’s why they never even explained why she had to die—only that she suffered from some unnamed illness, incurable by anyone.
‘If I want to use my remaining time wisely, I must minimize wasting it on pointless things.’
Still, Artia refused to give up hope.
‘A healthy mind resides in a healthy body!’
Rather than passively waiting for death, it was far better to do something—anything.
Staying cooped up in her room would achieve nothing; moving her body would boost her basal metabolic rate and build muscle.
She’d accomplish the things she’d left unfinished in her past life before this one ended, and she’d learn Heidegger’s secret techniques.
Only then might she gain the body she’d always longed for in her next life.
After all, one can’t cook without knowing the recipe.
‘In my next life, I’ll be just like Heidegger.’
Artia tossed the blood-stained handkerchief into the corner.
She gazed briefly out the window at the pristine snow falling silently outside—then drifted off to sleep right where she lay.
Cassus was walking down the corridor after leaving his office
when he happened to encounter his father, Heidegger, heading out for dinner.
“I found it.”
Cassus bowed his head in greeting.
He never addressed Heidegger as “Father.”
When Heidegger wasn’t present, he might refer to him as such—but face-to-face, it always felt awkward. He hadn’t called his father “Father” since he was very young.
To be precise, ever since his mother had died.
“Where were you?”
“I was with that girl.”
“…….”
“When I asked how she tamed Cerberus, she insisted on showing me herself.”
“A method?”
“After seeing it firsthand, I understand why Cerberus was tamed.”
A warm glow lit up Heidegger’s face.
Cassus couldn’t believe his eyes.
He’d never once seen such a bright expression on his father before.
“You shouldn’t trust that woman.”
“Are you suggesting she used dark magic?”
“It’s possible.”
“It wasn’t dark magic. It was…”
Heidegger raised his eyebrows, recalling the earlier moment.
“A technique steeped in experience—one that could only be mastered after long, specialized training.”
“…What?”
“It didn’t seem like medical skill, yet it felt like it somehow. Honestly, it’s hard to define.”
“She’s only twenty-one. What could she possibly do?”
“At that age, I conquered the empire. Anything’s possible.”
“…….”
Cassus closed his eyes tightly, as if realizing words wouldn’t get through.
“Will you join me for dinner?”
“I have prior obligations—I must leave first.”
He’d returned to the ducal manor for the first time in ages during this campaign.
Cassus had assumed they’d at least share a meal, no matter how busy he was.
But seeing his son—utterly devoid of any endearing qualities—Heidegger simply shook his head.
Cassus went straight to Artia after that.
Artia, who’d been sleeping soundly in her room, jolted awake at the loud, forceful knocking.
‘Ugh, who’s making all that racket? I was sleeping so well.’
Rubbing her eyes and yawning, Artia opened the door—only to find an unexpected figure waiting.
Black hair, towering frame, sharp eyes—
the man staring down at her was Cassus.
Wait—why are you here?!
Nowhere in the original novel did it mention Cassus ever visiting Artia’s room.
Yet here he stood, right outside her door…?
“What exactly did you do to my father?”
“Excuse me?”
“I asked what you did to my father.”
“What do you mean, ‘what did I do’? Please explain more clearly, Your Grace.”
Artia blinked, pushing back her tousled silver hair.
“You were alone with him in that room.”
“Yes, and?”
Cassus snorted at her shameless reply.
“What did you do in that room?”
“What do you think? I simply resolved what Father was curious about.”
The word “Father” slipping from Artia’s lips seemed to grate on Cassus—he kept running his hand through his black hair, frowning deeply.
This woman, who addressed her own husband as “Your Grace,” had the nerve to call his father “Father” after knowing him for such a short time.
Artia felt an oddly chilling aura radiating from Cassus’s impatiently tousling fingers.
He gave the impression he might pull a dagger from his robes at any moment.
“If you’ve pulled any tricks—even slightly—you and House Harad will not walk away unscathed.”
“Then maybe you should’ve shown him some filial piety earlier. Father was completely stiff all over.”
“What?”
Cassus was bewildered.
What on earth was this woman talking about?
“Did you… lay hands on Father’s body?”
“Yes. And Father wanted it too.”
“…What?”
What did “wanted it” even mean?
“Don’t you feel sorry for Father?”
For a moment, Artia’s expression darkened before she shook her head and continued.
“He only has two sons—after returning home for the first time in ages, one won’t even come out of his room, and the other…”
Cassus clenched his jaw hard. It was clearly a provocation.
“So you really are a spy from House Harad. I knew something felt off from the start.”
“I merely demonstrated my skill to Father, as he was curious about how I tamed Cerberus, Your Grace.”
“I’m not like my father.”
“Yes, I imagine you’re quite different.”
“Father might not realize it, but I won’t fall for such cheap seduction. Whatever trick you played, you’ll pay for it.”
‘Wow, look at that arrogance. Just like his younger brother!’
Artia narrowed her eyes, silently listening to him.
If Leo grew up, he’d probably be exactly like this—big body, but acting almost identically to his brother.
“Your Grace, aren’t you curious about that technique? If you are, would you like to try it yourself?”
Bang!
Cassus violently slammed the door shut with a threatening gesture and stormed off.
“Honestly, what a temper.”
Artia yawned and stretched once more.
Cassus wasn’t necessary anyway.
Heidegger was clearly a cut above him.
The fact that Heidegger, at fifty, maintained such an exceptional physique proved incredible discipline—plus, his natural talent couldn’t be ignored.
After all,
butterflies are always drawn to fragrant flowers.
Ex-husband Wants Reconciliation
One-line summary: Chasing the wife to the crematorium (making an effort to attract someone who has become indifferent), the female lead doesn’t look back, the second male lead takes the position.
Intro:
To repay the kindness of the older generation, Su Mu crossed into a female-dominated world and became a live-in daughter-in-law of the Yan family, single-handedly saving the Yan family from fire and water.
But her husband, Yan Jiyue, the eldest son of the Yan family, treated her with sarcasm and never showed her a good face.
It wasn’t until after Su Mu’s death that this pampered and arrogant young master shed a few fake tears and pretended to want to die for love.
This life’s kindness was enough. If there was a next life, she would definitely kick Yan Jiyue away.
Who knew that the heavens would be so kind as to allow her to be reborn, returning to the time when she had just married into the Yan family.
Su Mu glanced at the Yan eldest son, who still spoke coldly to her, and threw a divorce letter in front of him.
“Let’s divorce!”
***
Yan Jiyue never imagined that he would be reborn. He happily went to find Su Mu, wanting to make up for the mistakes he had made in his ignorant youth.
Wasn’t the reason the heavens allowed him to be reborn to let him reconcile with Su Mu?
But when he pushed open the door to Su Mu’s room, the person lying on the bed was another man.
Su Mu’s personal attendant, Xie Yi.
Yan Jiyue hated him so much that his teeth itched. In front of Su Mu, Xie Yi was a gentle and considerate whisperer of sweet nothings, but in reality, he was vicious-hearted and deliberately sabotaged their husband and wife relationship.
In the previous life, it was he who secretly hid in Su Mu’s coffin and committed suicide, stealing a step ahead of him to be buried with Su Mu.
Yan Jiyue’s eyes were filled with hatred as he cursed, “What kind of thing are you? Your background is lowly, what right do you have to occupy Su Mu?”
Xie Yi looked at the sleeping Su Mu and no longer pretended to be a whisperer of sweet nothings.
He proudly stuck out his belly, “I have the right because my belly is capable of giving the Wife-master a daughter.”
***
Yan Jiyue was consumed with jealousy. He spread rumors that Xie Yi had once been branded with the mark of a “harlot” on his chest.
But on the night Xie Yi cut off the flesh bearing that mark, Su Mu suddenly realized something was amiss.
“How did you know the exact moment I was poisoned? And why did you show up a month early?”
Xie Yi remained silent, blood from his wound soaking through his robes. His sapphire eyes brimmed with anguish – or was it just a flawless act?
Between a once-arrogant husband now seeking redemption, and a gentle soul willing to die for her – who truly held the darkest secrets? And could it be that Su Mu and Yan Jiyue weren’t the only ones given a second chance at life…?
[Reading Guide]
1. True divorce, chasing the wife to the crematorium, the female lead doesn’t look back, the male lead is Xie Yi.
2. The ex-husband did not cheat, he just realized too late and didn’t realize that he liked the female lead.
_____
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