Mother-in-Law Refuses to Regress! (7 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 2
A storm raged.
As time rewound, Guinevere watched the afterimage of her son stabbing his own heart at the center of a magical tempest meant to protect her.
‘So this is how you turned back time.’
William was no mage, yet he could perform simple magic using his blood as a conduit.
But turning back time belonged to the domain of gods and dragons—something he would never have dared even consider.
Thus, the first two instances of time reversal magic were likely unintentional…
‘Did you truly wish to die like that?’
The thought of William stabbing his own heart three times made her feel as if the ground beneath her feet was crumbling away.
When the storm passed, Guinevere swayed and struggled to stand upright.
‘There’s no time for this.’
She knew exactly where William was. Most likely, he’d be at that same place where he first met Larisa.
Summoning her magic out of sheer duty, she teleported instantly. Standing in an alley a short distance from William, Guinevere exhaled the breath she’d been holding.
‘He’s safe.’
William was alive and well, having forgotten all despair and sorrow. Guinevere clenched her fists as she gazed at his back.
Her long nails dug into her palms, drawing blood, yet she felt nothing at all.
‘My son will remain safe from now on.’
Guinevere made a silent vow.
‘Nothing—absolutely nothing—will ever plunge him into despair again.’
To ensure he’d never again consider turning back time, Guinevere bit her lip and teleported once more.
In an instant, she arrived at a dilapidated shack nestled in a remote corner of the slums—the very house Larisa had lived in during her second regression.
“Who’s there?”
A pale-faced woman, startled by Guinevere’s sudden appearance, asked hesitantly.
‘You’ll be dead soon.’
This woman must be Larisa’s mother. She was fated to die before Larisa could even steal William’s wallet to call a doctor.
And just like other paupers, she’d been buried right in the front yard of this house, denied even a common grave. Guinevere spoke.
“Guinevere Rodante.”
That was all she offered by way of introduction.
Scanning her surroundings with an expressionless face, Guinevere turned toward the woman, who she was certain was Larisa’s mother.
“What is your name?”
There wasn’t a soul in the empire who didn’t know the name Guinevere Rodante. The woman, visibly shocked, stammered out a reply.
“M-M-Ma… Marina.”
“Marina.”
“What brings you to a place like this…?”
“You will die today.”
Marina’s face turned ashen, and she clamped her mouth shut. Despite her ominous words, Guinevere’s eyes were filled with profound sorrow.
She wasn’t threatening or intimidating her—she spoke with the calm certainty of someone merely stating a known truth.
“Sadly, I lack the power to bring the dead back to life. I’ve tried my best for the past fifty years, but to no avail. Instead, I’ll grant you one wish—anything except asking me to spare your life. If it’s within my power… in exchange, you must give me your daughter.”
Marina, unable to grasp the situation, backed away without uttering a word. Frustrated by her terrified silence, Guinevere pressed urgently.
“There’s no time. Larisa will return soon. Tell me your wish before she does.”
“My… my only wish is for Larisa to live happily and for a very long time.”
At that, Guinevere murmured softly, her eyes brimming with the deepest sadness,
“Our wishes are the same, then.”
*
Larisa awkwardly fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. Her black leather shoes were so thin and soft they barely felt like shoes at all, and the velvet dress wrapped around her body was warm and cozy.
It was the first time she’d ever worn such fine clothing—but she felt no joy at all.
“Now, Larisa. It’s your turn.”
Startled by the voice calling her name, Larisa clutched a white flower tightly in both hands.
Stepping onto the platform a few paces ahead, she saw her mother lying in the coffin.
Dressed in a beautiful white gown—the first Larisa had ever seen her wear—and nestled among flowers, her mother looked just like the sleeping princess from a fairy tale.
“Mama?”
Larisa was only seven years old. She vaguely understood what death meant, but it still didn’t feel real.
For the past few days, it had seemed as if Mama was merely sleeping. Larisa wanted nothing more than to greet her as usual, laugh together, and chatter away—but she couldn’t, and that made her unbearably sad.
“Now, you must let Mama go.”
Larisa nodded obediently like a good child. She placed the white flower gently on her mother’s chest and kissed her cheek, just as she always had.
“Sleep well.”
As she stepped down from the platform, a stern-looking woman locked eyes with her and opened her arms. Her posture seemed awkward, almost unnatural.
“Come here.”
Larisa hesitated for a long moment before finally stepping into those arms. Instantly, her view rose high into the air.
‘Could she really be Mama’s friend?’
Even a three-year-old knew who Guinevere Rodante was. At seven, Larisa clearly understood that the Archwitch Rodante would never be friends with some commoner from the slums.
But Mama had said so herself. Mama had always been kind and beloved by many.
‘Lara, Mama must sleep for a very long time now. Tomorrow morning, Mama’s friend will come to take you away. She’s promised to care for our Lara until you become an adult. So, my dear, cry only a little and be good.’
She hadn’t realized, of course, that the friend her mother mentioned was none other than Guinevere Rodante—the Archwitch who appeared in the newspapers.
Being held by someone felt so strange that Larisa forgot even to grieve. Uncomfortable and squirming, she only settled down once Guinevere adjusted her hold.
Meanwhile, the funeral came to an end.
The priest recited the final prayer, and the coffin was lowered.
As dirt covered the grave, the choir sang a dirge. When someone began to sob, others—who had only been holding back out of propriety—burst into tears one after another.
The priest, accustomed only to the quiet and solemn funerals of nobles, frowned, but there was no scolding such genuine sorrow.
Amid the weeping crowd, Guinevere thought,
‘At least she won’t walk her final path alone. So many people are weeping for her.’
Guinevere had no way of knowing whether they were truly Marina’s friends or merely drawn by the free bread distributed at funerals—but she still hoped they’d pray for Marina, even if just here and now.
After watching the mourners for a moment, Guinevere turned away.
“Let’s go, William.”
“Yes.”
Larisa instinctively glanced at the tall boy addressed as William—then quickly lowered her head the instant their eyes met.
She buried her face against the Archwitch Rodante’s shoulder, feigning sleep, but the boy’s gaze didn’t waver.
Larisa instantly regretted her actions. Of all the wallets she could steal, why did it have to be the son of Mama’s friend?
‘I’ll surely get scolded. Maybe even bullied.’
As long as he didn’t kick her—that would hurt too much. Lost in anxious thoughts about what lay ahead, Larisa drifted off to sleep before she knew it.
Guinevere carefully laid the sleeping Larisa down inside the carriage. She’d thought the child hadn’t cried—but dried tear tracks were visible at the corners of her eyes.
It was absurd—a mere seven-year-old secretly shedding tears.
“What will you do with her?”
William, seated across from her, watched her carefully.
Even though he’d reset time and forgotten everything about Larisa, his heart still pulled toward her out of habit. Guinevere gave a faint smile.
“Worried?”
William didn’t deny it.
“She’s not really your friend, is she?”
“No.”
“I’ve never seen her face before.”
“I met her for the first time yesterday too.”
‘You’re not the type to casually become friends with someone you just met, are you?’
William skillfully swallowed the words he wanted to say. His mother was unpredictable—but never to this extent.
Or perhaps, in a way, she was the simplest person in the world. All her inexplicable actions were linked by one thread: magic.
“Are you… taking her to teach her something?”
William suspected the little girl might possess extraordinary magical talent.
“No.”
But she didn’t. And her next words left William utterly speechless.
“I’m going to marry her off to you.”
“…”
After a brief silence, William barely managed to collect himself.
“Huh?”
“I said I’ll marry her to you.”
“…Huh?”
“Are you deaf?”
William clenched his teeth to hold back the urge to shout, “Have you lost your mind?!”
No—he couldn’t hold back anymore. He blurted out in a small voice,
“Are you insane!?”
“…”
“She’s far too young!”
“She’s young now—but ten years will pass in the blink of an eye.”
Guinevere closed her eyes as she gently stroked Larisa’s forehead. The exhaustion of fifty lost years crashed over her all at once.
Who was the mad one here? You lunatic—who else would stab their own heart right before their mother’s eyes? Guinevere exhaled like a sigh.
“You’ll fall in love with her. You won’t listen to me, no matter how hard I try to stop you. Not even death will separate you two—because if death tries to take her from you, you’ll turn back time, even if it means offering your own heart…”
William was rendered completely speechless.
His mother often spoke in ways more cringeworthy than any teenage boy—but most people praised even her boastful nonsense as profound wisdom from a great witch, thanks to her unmatched power.
But this… this was genuinely too much.
“Please, for the love of all that’s holy, never say that out loud anywhere. Seriously…”
Stop acting so ridiculously pretentious—it’s mortifying!
But Guinevere had already fallen asleep, oblivious to her son’s protests. William alone remained awake, pounding his chest in exasperation.
‘This damn household—I’m running away for good!’
Male lead is reincarnated to save his wife
I’ve also read this one twice already. The female lead is kinda soft and gets embarrassed easily—not really my type, but the plot is definitely worth reading. Hurry up and read it, y’all!
Intro
When Shen Yuan encountered Su Jin again in his previous life, she had already become the Prime Minister of the current dynasty. As for him, the former top young master of the capital, he had long since fallen into the abyss, becoming a singer on a pleasure boat.
After a song ended, he was redeemed and sent to the Su Residence.
Su Jin respected and cherished him, gave him a roof over his head, and bestowed him with warmth. Shen Yuan fell deeper and deeper, but before he could express his feelings, Su Jin passed away.
Shen Yuan died to follow her in death, but instead, he returned to when he was fifteen years old.
At that time, he was not yet engaged, and Su Jin was just a poor scholar.
Shen Yuan gritted his teeth, casting aside all his pride, and thought of ways to coax and entice her every day.
The colder and more indifferent Su Jin was towards him, the more proactive Shen Yuan became.
He was not afraid of being mocked by the world, only wanting to marry his Wife-master early, to hold her hand and never let go for a lifetime.
[Note: This story will not specifically point out the male lead’s reincarnation time point; it’s all in the details. Whenever you feel that the male lead is acting strangely, he has most likely been reincarnated.]
[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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