I Regret The Kindness I Gave You (20 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 7
“It’s because blood is spilled. You’ll get your hands dirty too.”
Only then did he notice the forget-me-not blue eyes gazing up at him so blankly.
Neither in those earnest eyes nor in Merche’s slender wrists pulled back behind her could he find a trace of disgust toward the lowly brute.
What was there was hesitation.
A foolishly kind heart, fretting over whether her blood might stain him too.
Lud chewed silently on his lips before muttering, barely audible, “Why worry about something like that… If anything’s filthy, it’s my blood that’s filthier.”
After all, her blood belonged to a woman born wrapped in wealth—unlike his own.
If hers was considered tainted, then his blood coursing through his veins ought to be rotting, crawling with maggots.
Instead of fumbling for awkward words, he chose to rewrap the irritating bandage.
Reaching out again, he untied the sloppily tied knot and wound it tautly, carefully avoiding creases.
He couldn’t tell how many times he’d glanced over, worried he might be pulling too tight and hurting her.
Fortunately, until the knot was tied with unusual care, there was no grimace or sign of pain, so Lud tugged at his lips and proudly looked down at the bandaged wrist.
Naturally—it had been tied by someone well-accustomed to being beaten and tossed about.
In all his life, he’d never taken such pains wrapping a bandage.
“Don’t you ever touch bandages anywhere else. They’ll just call you clumsy.”
“…Was I really that bad?”
“Yeah. Terrible.”
Merche blinked slowly, as if accepting his blunt assessment.
Her reaction even seemed a little downcast.
Had he judged her too harshly? Lud rolled his eyes slightly.
He felt he should say something comforting, yet had no idea how to speak in such moments.
How could he know? He’d never tried comforting anyone before.
“…But even if I’m good at wrapping bandages, so what? It doesn’t change anything. Even if you’re worse at it… no, even if you can’t do it at all.”
His head ached trying to strip away all the usual harsh words he kept at the ready.
Still, after much effort, he managed to pick out a few decent phrases and finally threw them out, watching Merche’s reaction.
Fortunately, Merche didn’t seem bothered by the crude language he habitually used.
Her eyes, still the clear blue of forget-me-nots, quietly held his gaze.
Her voice, as calm as her gaze, resonated softly.
“I’ll instruct the servants not to force you to bathe from now on.”
Her simple, blameless remark—utterly free of reproach or criticism—struck Lud more deeply than any accusation.
Had he really caused that much of a ruckus?
Now that he thought about it, he’d barely dipped into the water and hadn’t truly bathed at all.
Back in the arena, they’d scrub him raw once in a while as if laundering clothes, but since leaving and coming to this mansion, he hadn’t washed himself even once.
Suddenly, Lud lifted his arm and sniffed.
Surely he wouldn’t be branded a filthy brute… Yet Merche’s gaze now made him feel oddly uneasy.
“I can bathe myself. There’s no need to cling to me like I’m some helpless child.”
“I see. I hadn’t realized that would trouble you. I’ll also add instructions that your affairs are to be handled according to your wishes.”
Merche’s reply was profoundly considerate.
Seeing her expression—apologetic for failing to understand his feelings—Lud felt as though he’d become the world’s greatest fool.
He should’ve just kept his mouth shut. His clumsy attempt at excuses only made him seem like a petulant child in need of reassurance.
“Why don’t you ask why I hate bathing?”
The moment the words left his mouth, Lud instantly regretted it.
He’d been thinking of her as childish—and now he’d gone ahead and spoken like one himself.
Why had he asked such a question if he had no intention of answering it? Even if he asked himself, there was no reply.
As despairing self-loathing threatened to swallow him whole and his vision darkened, Merche asked,
“Do you wish to tell me the reason?”
“No.”
He replied sharply at once, and Merche blinked pointedly, as if to say, “Exactly.”
Her eyes followed his gaze with harmless gentleness, her expression relaxed.
“Then there’s no reason for me to hear it. If you’d wanted to tell me, you would have spoken long ago.”
“……”
Absurdly enough, she was right. Lud stared, dumbfounded, at the woman who’d silenced him with a single sentence.
After effortlessly subduing a man fiercer than thorn thickets—and showing no satisfaction in it—she rose from the bed without a single jarring sound.
As always, her hands adjusted her clothes with immaculate care.
The certainty that she would leave now—like lightning striking his mind—made Lud blurt out,
“You’re leaving?”
“I intend to. Quite some time has passed since I arrived here.”
“When will you come again?”
It was the kind of thing that would make him look like a loyal dog to his master, but he had no room to think of such things.
His nerves were frayed, and his usual restraint had long since faded until he could no longer filter his words.
His mouth, uncontrolled, snarled on its own.
“Don’t you think it’s selfish? You lock me up here without saying why, then just run off. You’re leaving me here like some broken item shoved into a corner. If that’s how it’s going to be, just throw me away for real—don’t just leave me feeling miserable.”
Merche stood silently for a long while after the sharp accusation, then apologized with those damp, sorrowful eyes.
But Lud, half-untethered, couldn’t hear her apology.
“Do I have to act like a damn fool every time I want you to come? Then I’d better think about what kind of damn fool thing I’ll need to do next, huh?”
As he rambled on, bitter laughter kept spilling out. What a ridiculous situation.
It was more painful now than when he’d languished behind iron bars, waiting only for death.
Of course, it was a different kind of pain—more like thirst. Thanks to Berk, whose remedies were miraculous despite his quack reputation, the drugs had long since been cleansed from his body. Yet something equally maddening had taken their place, leaving him parched.
“…I cannot give you a definite promise, but I will return soon. If I’ve caused you distress, I sincerely apologize.”
A tempting bait was cast.
He knew swallowing it would grind the roof of his mouth to pulp—but he couldn’t help but bite.
Lud opened his dry, thirst-cracked mouth and eagerly took the bait.
“Come before I act like a damn fool again. If you spent good money on me, at least give me a chance to be worth it.”
After all, wasn’t she the one who’d spent a fortune on him? Having spent it, she’d naturally expect her money’s worth.
She would return here and seek him out. That was the only thing Lud could cling to.
[This is the timeline separator]For a noble, finding a person was no difficult task.
Especially not for the eldest daughter of a family who’d inherited a respectable fortune from well-off parents.
Merche visited the dressmaker as scheduled, had her garments fitted, and easily shook off the knights tailing her.
The Lupinus knights owed their loyalty only to their master, Genovefa, and showed no allegiance yet to Merche, who wasn’t even an official heir.
Thanks to that, everything proceeded smoothly.
The woman Merche sought was found in a shabby tavern.
Accompanied by hired guards, she approached a middle-aged woman scrubbing a worn-out table until her arms ached.
Wrinkled eyes, heavy with the burdens of life, soon looked up at Merche.
“Excuse me. May I sit for a moment?”
“……? I’m sorry, but we’re not receiving guests right now. If you wish to come, please visit again tomorrow.”
“I’m not here as a customer. I’ve come because I need to speak with you.”
“……Who are you?”
“My name may not be familiar, but allow me to introduce myself: Merche Ashtad. Please spare me a moment of your time. I beg of you, Mrs. Martin.”
Greta Martin—former maid to Elizabeth Lupinus and Elizabeth’s long-trusted confidante.
She stiffened instantly, meeting Merche’s gaze directly.
–Mrs. Martin… If only you’d stayed by Lady Komeo’s side even after her stillbirth.
–Mrs. Martin must have been deeply shocked too. Seeing the mistress you’d served since childhood suffer such tragedy and nearly lose her mind—how could you bear it?
Over twenty years ago, when Elizabeth endured the tragedy of stillbirth, Greta Martin chose to retire.
Perhaps, as some palace maids gossiped, she’d been too shaken by her mistress’s horrific ordeal to remain.
But Merche sensed something suspicious about the timing of her departure.
Greta Martin had submitted her resignation just one month and ten days after Elizabeth’s delivery.
No matter how severe the shock, it was hard to believe she’d flee the estate like a runaway while her lifelong mistress collapsed in grief.
What troubled Merche most was the maids’ claim that Elizabeth had desperately tried to stop Greta from leaving.
Why had she been in such a frantic hurry to resign?
Even as Elizabeth sank into crippling depression after losing nearly half a lifetime’s companion, Greta had acted as though fleeing from someone.
To uncover the truth, Merche now stood before her.
At the mention of her name, Mrs. Martin, already wary, hesitated and asked,
“How do you know of me?”
“I’ve gathered what I know from those around you. In case you wonder, let me tell you upfront: I am a candidate for heir to the Lupinus Family.”
“…L-Lupinus? Oh!”
Mrs. Martin nearly dropped her rag and bolted, but the tavern door was already closed, and several armed guards blocked every exit.
After nervously biting her lip, she sighed in resignation and carefully took a seat.
“…I don’t know what business you could possibly have with me. Threatening me like this… all I feel is fear, as someone who retired from public life long ago.”
Her speech carried the refinement of one who’d served high nobility for decades.
Her sharp, defiant eyes locked onto Merche, as if declaring no pressure would easily shake her.
Yet that same gaze laid her fear bare.
To Merche, Mrs. Martin’s entire body already spoke the truth.
A woman frightened at the mere mention of Lupinus—if that wasn’t suspicious, what was?
There was no need to waste time with roundabout talk. Merche cut straight to the accusation.
“Mrs. Martin, did you steal the child Lady Komeo once bore?”
My Arch-enemy Sealed My Memory and Said That He is My Husband
This is an incredibly captivating story that you absolutely shouldn’t miss! I’ll give a brief introduction here, and below you’ll find a detailed synopsis of the plot.
The female lead is a fierce and powerful demon king. The male lead is a once-in-a-millennium celestial lord, admired by the entire cultivation world.
They are equally matched, legendary rivals who have battled for centuries.
In the final duel, the female lead is gravely injured. The male lead saves her, seals her memories, and hides her true identity. He tells her that he is her fiancé. His entire life has been flawless—except for the one thing he never expected, never controlled, and never wanted to control: falling for his greatest enemy. She is his inner demon, his obsession.
When the female lead regains her memories, she is furious at his deception.
She makes his life a living hell.
And somehow, the male lead—possibly a total masochist—doesn’t mind at all. In fact, he’s happy she’s paying attention to him.
Yep, we’re back to my favorite trope: male lead suffering. If you love this kind of story, jump into the pit with me now!!!
Intro
Dong Xia lost her memory.
Her handsome and extremely powerful fiancé Li Qing comforted her: “It’s okay if you can’t remember. I’ll always be with you.”
Everyone thought Dong Xia’s ancestors must have burned incense to get such a perfect fiancé. He was the number one person in the immortal realm, yet he remained chaste and only loved her.
…
The day before marrying her fiancé, Dong Xia finally remembered everything.
She wasn’t suffering from memory loss at all.
Her arch-enemy had made her fake her death, destroyed her cultivation, replaced her memories, and pretended to be her deeply in love fiancé.
No wonder he said, “It’s okay if you can’t remember”!
Dong Xia laughed coldly as she pulled out her long knife: Li Qing, prepare to die 🙂
*
Li Qing, as the supreme being of the immortal realm, was the people’s shining beacon.
The only unknown stain in his life was his affection for Dong Xia, the ruler of the demon realm.
In the final battle of the war between immortals and demons, the sky collapsed and the earth shattered. The ruler of the demon realm was finally slain under the sword of the supreme being of the immortal realm, and everyone in the immortal realm applauded.
The cultivation world lost a ruler of the demon realm.
And in the back mountain of Li Qing’s cave dwelling, he secretly hid away a fiancée.
Notes:
1. The female lead is white on the outside, black on the inside, and the queen of flattery; the male lead repeatedly tests the edge of darkness, a VIP guest at the crematorium.
2. Fantasy cultivation world setting.
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
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