“Take turns one by one.”
The clear face of the woman who firmly explained the rules of the game slowly turns towards me.
The woman pulls out something and places it down on the sandy beach.
“Only until this sand runs out.”
As the rather thorough woman’s hand flips it over, pink sand begins to flow down steadily.
About 5 minutes, perhaps.
A time that’s long if long, short if short.
Though my thoughts on it being a crude game haven’t changed, if this is what’s needed to draw out this woman’s true feelings, then that too is quite anticipated.
Will this woman deceive and toy with me again this time, or will she intrigue me with the truth hidden within?
No, actually I know.
That the possibility of this woman telling the truth converges to 0.
Either way, won’t 5 minutes be not short?
No, that’s not right. This is the woman who takes just 3 seconds to say “I love you”.
That’s about how long it takes her to shake up my insides.
So what has she prepared this time?
“Would you like to go first?”
“No.”
Ladies first.
The smiling woman begins, bouncing her clear voice that resembles water.
“There was a time when I felt flutters looking at you.”
Felt flutters, she asks.
That romantic word that best suits this season of spring, accompanied by numerous pulsations and tremors, is quite romantic.
Yet why is it that I’m not so fond of that word that peruses and compresses my emotions?
Is it because I’m still crossing that gateway that should be passed by briefly as a prelude to love?
You don’t know, do you?
How alluring those lips are that I want to devour every time I see them, how enticingly white that smooth skin is that I want to swallow, and how lewd your face was on those nights.
So you’re trying to get confirmation, aren’t you?
If it’s that kind of confirmation, gladly.
“There was.”
Perhaps because she heard the answer she wanted, a faint satisfaction settles in her eyes that are calm to the point of serenity.
Her eyes curve prettily as if it’s now my turn.
“There was a time when I loved you.”
The woman answers with an expression as nonchalant as mine.
Ah, of course, after pretending to ponder for a moment.
“There was.”
The face that now casually blurts out words of love is natural.
Perhaps because she keeps spewing lies, there’s not even the hesitation from before.
It’s just laughable that even that feigned naturalness appears as pure white as the woman’s white smile, rather than being detestable.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve gone mad.
Well, if I weren’t mad, I wouldn’t be sitting here on this beach playing an obviously fake truth-telling game.
A game of lies disguised as truth, that is.
After that, the questions circled around similar places quite a few times.
“I changed clothes several times before coming out here today.”
The woman’s gaze falls upon my body.
I wonder if that’s how it appeared, since I was wearing a light shirt at the hotel that was no different from wearing a robe.
It’s a question I can’t answer with either “No-” or a nod of “Yes-“.
Today I wore the outfit prepared by the staff according to my instructions.
But if we go back further, it was I who chose this outfit.
On that day when I did things I normally wouldn’t have done, and kept doing them.
On a certain day when the woman whispered false words of love to me, I picked out outfits that happened to catch my eye on the way back.
Why was it that day that all the clothes on my body were so unsatisfactory?
My hands that changed the fittings gradually trembled, didn’t they?
Tiobe said it. Asked if I was going to a debutante ball.
Yes, I admit it.
I was doing things only a pubescent brat would do.
Emotions I never experienced even during puberty. Looking back, you were the cause of it all.
I was quite curious what expression you’d make sitting there if I stood before you in those clothes.
It was somehow similar to the anticipation I felt when planning to go to Alphonse, putting you in that dress and thinking of looking at it.
So to be honest, the outfits I changed into at that clothing store were about several dozen?
To answer your question, I suppose that’s a yes.
The implied meaning in your question is how many times did I change clothes for you, how much effort did I put in, so how much can I be used by you.
So if I say yes, well.
You’d be reassured.
Though I decided to act as a gentle man wanting to see you smile, I don’t want to see you smile like that again.
“No.”
At this rate, my mood swings are on par with Count Ashura and I might need rehabilitation at some skilled medical facility.
The woman’s eyes quiver slowly.
“Not… even once? You didn’t change even once?”
The woman’s gaze soon dried up harshly, with even cracks appearing. That sight is quite interesting.
Knowing that the cracks etched in those eyes aren’t real.
Even while knowing it’s just her trembling in fear that she might not be able to use me.
Though my personality was foul, I don’t think it was this foul.
Yes, I admit it.
I changed from the moment I began to desire this woman.
No, perhaps it was long before that.
Was it from Alphonse, which I had tried to leave far behind in my memories?
I am in this state, still unable to shed my shell even after the season has passed its midpoint, not adapting to the changes stirring deep inside, like a Lithops that has already molted but doesn’t fit the center of the season.
It may take a lifetime and more to shed this dirty, arrogant, and crude shell.
In the lying game disguised as a truth game, the woman crumbled without uncovering the core within the shell.
I’m smiling childishly, having monopolized victory even in a game with no winners or losers.
The sinful woman who doesn’t know my different inside and outside is putting on quite a commendable act.
There’s no comedy quite as ridiculous.
Nevertheless, I quite like this fleeting moment, so I add:
“Not today, but I chose it long ago.”
“That means…”
“Tiobe asked. If I was going to a debutante ball.”
The woman laughs brightly.
The eyes that were moist as if about to cry just moments ago curve prettily.
Each time the wind blows, red hair strands hit her smooth face and disappear repeatedly.
Each time, the smile hidden behind those strands of hair blooms.
Yes, I’m acting like a madman to possess that smile.
I turn my head, averting my gaze from the woman’s smile that seems like it would enchant me if I kept looking.
The pink sand, which has little left like the fate between this woman and me, advances towards the final question.
The woman’s laughter stopped, as if sensing my gaze shift away from her.
Soon the woman hesitantly moved her lips.
The image of me reflected in the emerald gaze formed on them becomes tangled as the woman’s pupils shake.
At the end of it, the woman who finally caught her breath uttered words that were very much as expected yet unexpected.
“I’m willing to give everything to the person I love.”
Everything.
The woman’s thoughts, so transparent, reach me without even being hidden.
Has she been thinking about the medicine all day while looking at me?
Planning to fly away like a butterfly once she receives that medicine.
Like the fox in some legend that disappears after completely devouring the liver and heart.
“Well. Depends on the person. If I love desperately enough, I’d give anything.”
“…”
“I’m more of a romantic than I thought.”
Eyes full of bewilderment slowly rise up.
I drive in a malicious wedge against them.
You who dared to carelessly utter words about leaving my side, you should receive at least this much punishment.
“The fact that I haven’t given it yet means it’s not to that extent.”
The woman who met my eyes flinched after checking my expression.
Her face, which had turned pale like a rabbit’s, only lifted after a long while.
Only long after the sand had all run out.
Only then did the woman get up and quickly move away.
As if fleeing.
As I quietly watch her retreating figure, the woman picks up something from over there and brings it.
It was a thin, bony twig like me.
The woman wrote something with it and held it out towards me.
As I lower my gaze, the initials of a name the woman drew on the sand are clearly visible.
The gesture of extending such an unfunny trick is quite serious.
As if to enchant someone.
My hand drawing a heart in between was utterly ridiculous.
And Tiobe sitting over there watching me with a hideous gaze.
[This is the timeline separator]The woman who got off at the same position as during the day quickly disappeared from view.
After boarding the carriage, the woman who had been nodding off placed her head on my shoulder and stopped moving as if stiffened.
The woman, who was clearly awake, showed not the slightest movement in that state.
How laughable was the slight tension created by the refined breathing.
Did she think I wouldn’t notice even in the midst of that?
No. Even that was probably just part of that woman’s impatient seduction.
Just like asking me to draw a mark of love for her on the sandy beach, this too was likely along the same lines.
After all, she’s a woman who would do anything for that medicine, trembling and asking if she could give everything.
Nevertheless, a smile-like expression is held on the face reflected in the carriage window.
As I quietly gaze at the window, dumbfounded, the large shadow of a man gradually approaches and vividly covers it.
The person who boarded after giving a perfunctory bow towards the successor, wearing the clothes of the knight commander, was Tiobe.
Tiobe, who stood beside the carriage window, was shocked by his lord’s smile visible through the open window gap.
Someone who never seemed to know how to smile…
Honestly, that outrageous act on the sandy beach was truly something that would have shocked anyone else who saw it.
The successor of Blanchet was famous for being an iron-blooded human without blood or tears.
Who would have thought such a person was such a romantic?
No, in fact, Tiobe wondered if he should even be called a romantic.
Because there are too many differences between the two for that, and somehow the outcome doesn’t seem like it will be good.
Is he just thinking of keeping her as a plaything by his side?
Of course, there was another question that made it difficult to see it that way.
My lord always ordered reports on anything related to Yuriel, that person.
And I was in charge of that task. Tiobe hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should tell his lord about the report that had just come in.
Because this matter was quite serious.
He couldn’t even imagine how his lord, whose expression would uniquely change only for matters concerning that person, would react upon hearing this news.
However, the conclusion was always predetermined.
Tiobe had no choice but to bow his head and give the report.
“It seems there will be problems with the project Yuriel is working on.”
Male lead is a clingy little husband
One-line summary: The male lead is initially an arrogant, noble, love-deprived brat, later a cute, clingy, scheming little jealous one.
Introduction:
One day, Lu Yuner’s soul transmigrates into a female-dominant world. She enters the Imperial Academy and takes up the position of a doctoral instructor, teaching classes and grading schoolwork.
One day, she encounters the young prince Su Qingwan secretly skipping class from the male academy.
As a result, Su Qingwan is punished.
From then on, Su Qingwan sees Lu Yuner as a “thorn in his side”.
But before long, this “thorn” becomes the person he cherishes most, and he goes to great lengths to win Lu Yuner’s affection.
Mini scene 1:
One day, the sun is high in the sky but Su Qingwan still hasn’t gotten up for class.
Servant Xiaoyuan: “Young prince, it’s time for class. You’ll be late otherwise.”
Su Qingwan says arrogantly: “I’m not going. I am the esteemed prince, my status is so noble, why should I suffer this hardship? Besides, isn’t learning all this just to please women? Hmph, they’re not worthy!”
Mini scene 2:
After Su Qingwan falls for someone, he completely changes. He no longer skips class and diligently learns how to be a good husband and father. But he discovers that Sister Yuner is always surrounded by admirers.
Drunk and overcome with jealousy one day, he clings to Lu Yuner, crying beautifully like a pear blossom in the rain.
Su Qingwan: “Qingwan likes Sister Yuner.”
Lu Yuner: “Young prince, you’re drunk.”
Su Qingwan: “Qingwan isn’t drunk. Qingwan likes Sister Yuner, likes you so much, likes you to bits…” Before he can finish, Lu Yuner’s eyes flash with emotion and she leans in closer.
[Reading Guide]
1. The female lead is gentle, gracious, humble and polite but not weak. The male lead is initially an arrogant, noble, love-deprived brat, later a cute, clingy, scheming little jealous one.
2. 1v1, a bit torturous in the beginning but definitely sweet later on.
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