Chapter 443 - 443: Substitute Bride of the Demon King (47)

As Ellie listened to Silas's reluctant agreement to her proposal, a wave of relief washed over her, thinking that she had successfully soothed the man's emotions. She lowered her gaze. It seemed that his feelings for her had not entirely faded. The thought brought comfort, yet it also ignited a flicker of distress in her heart.

If Silas's possessiveness were not so strong, which often felt like an oppressive stone weighing her down, she would not be unwilling to be with him. If only he could ease his grip and allow her room for freedom, perhaps she could embrace the idea of being with him more willingly.

…

In a remote corner of the woods, two people made their home in a dilapidated cabin, its weathered walls and creaking floors a testament to the struggles that had taken place before. The way they interacted with one another was no longer as difficult and stiff as it was at the beginning.

Yue Ran often couldn't resist injecting a wry, sarcastic comment into their conversations from time to time. To Andre, however, these jabs were no longer just words; they became the motivation to support him to live, a reminder that even in their worn-down surroundings, there was a spark of life and connection that kept him going. Her sharp remarks sliced through his life like a breath of fresh air.

Yue Ran: As if. You know what? Keep on dreaming.

And after hearing it for a long time, Andre became immune to it. He had grown accustomed to it. The primary reason was that Yue Ran's attitude towards him was too ordinary, as if, even though he had disability, he was no different from an ordinary person. There was no trace of pity for him in her eyes, which offered him a rare sense of comfort.

Sometimes people have this kind of mentality, especially for someone of high status. Once, he had stood as a great and noble magician, radiating power and prestige. The fall from grace, marked by the shattering of his magic core, left him grappling with the reality of others' perceptions. It was even more difficult to accept the sympathetic and pitiful eyes of others that felt more like chains than support. He wanted others to treat him with a normal attitude.

Andre probably had that mentality at the moment.

…

The night enveloped the cabin in a thick shroud of darkness, the only sounds being the soft rustling of leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. Inside, the atmosphere was tense as Yue Ran, her features illuminated by a flickering candle, handed the last bowl of medicine to Andre.

Without beating around the bush, Yue Ran explained their situation to him.

"We can't afford any more herbs," Yue Ran declared, the words spilling forth without hesitation. There was no sugarcoating the grim reality of their situation.

When Andre absorbed the news, he was stunned for a moment; then he reacted. His storage ring, a repository of his magical items and funds, remained sealed to him without his magic, and the woman in front of him was just an ordinary person abandoned by her family. It was understandable for her to lack the money to buy medicine.

So, what should they do?

No, the real question was: what should he do?

Noting the confusion etched on his face, Yue Ran showed the man her bare wrist, the skin smooth and unadorned.

"Look at my hand," Yue Ran said. "All my original jewelry and hair accessories are gone; I had to pawn them the day I sought treatment for you from the doctor." She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in, then continued with a hint of frustration," As a man, surely you don't expect me to be the one to support you, do you?"

Her gaze was unwavering, making him understand the heavy weight of her sacrifice.

In any case, Yue Ran did not want to expend her energy on a heartless and useless man like Andre, as the original soul of the body had done. After all, the original body was still cast away like a worthless, dirty shoe, despite her relentless efforts to work hard day and night for him.

Sure enough, the men paired with the female protagonists were often far from noble. When men don't like you, you're nothing but trash. But when they like you, you become the center of their universe, adored and cherished.

The former was disheartening and demoralizing, but the latter was all right.

Andre was speechless. He should say something, right? But he did not know what to say.

His gaze drifted to the woman before him, taking in the stark absence of jewelry that usually adorned her wrists— her skin bare and unadorned. Stray tendrils of hair framed her face, yet there were no decorative pins or ribbons to catch the sunlight. Her clothing was simple and unremarkable, a stark contrast to the vibrant tapestries of nobility to which they were accustomed.

Andre fell silent for a while. He truly did not expect that one must spend money on treatment when one is sick.

In that moment of silence, a realization struck him with the force of a tempest. Things were different now. He was no longer the high and mighty Lord Magician.

He had never truly grasped before that those in need, the ill and the struggling, often bore their burdens alone, forced to find ways to pay for the care they so desperately required. The shadow of his former self, the exalted Lord Magician, loomed behind him, a memory of power and privilege that felt worlds away. Things had changed.

Andre glanced at the gleaming magic sword placed in the shadowy corner of the room— its blade shimmered with an otherworldly glow, catching the light in a way that seemed almost alive— paused, and said, "You can take that sword and sell it. It should be able to fetch a handsome price in a pinch."