She still didn’t say much, but in those azure eyes, the warmth of a “human” was clearly more present.
Sometimes Arthur even had the illusion that he was meant to live here, on Tai Xu Mountain, planting vegetables, cooking, practicing, and occasionally saying nonsense to this cold but sometimes helpless Master.
The main world, the Honkai, the three future Herrschers, the mission of Deliverance…
all of it had become distant and blurry, like things from a past life.
If not for that system interface in his mind still stubbornly displaying:
[worldline Repair Progress: 24.7%]
[Identity Compatibility: 82%]
[Special Status: Mortal Life (Fusion) — Your life has become deeply intertwined with the target character’s, and you have become accustomed to each other’s presence.
This status continuously and steadily increases the worldline repair progress.]
Arthur might truly forget what he was here for.
“Repair progress…
it’s been two years, and it’s only over twenty percent,” he muttered to himself while chewing on the cucumber, looking at the small text in the corner of his vision.
“At this rate, I’ll have to stay here for nearly ten years to finish.”
Then he froze.
Nearly ten years?
If it were when he first arrived, the thought of staying in these ancient mountains for ten years without the internet, delivery food, or entertainment would have made his skin crawl.
But now…
Arthur looked around.
The Vegetable Garden in the morning light was full of life, the Bamboo House was faintly visible in the mist, and in the distance, the mountains were lush and the sea of clouds was churning.
The air was fresh, the water was sweet, and the time was his own.
No mortgage, no overtime, no complex social relationships, and no need to maintain a fake smile at all times.
There was only a “roommate” who, though quiet, was very comfortable to be around, a piece of land he could mess with as he pleased, and plenty of time entirely at his own disposal.
“Ten years it is then.” Arthur swallowed the last bite of cucumber and grinned.
“This kind of retirement life—I wouldn’t mind another hundred years of it.”
He truly thought so.
In his past life, he worked himself to death at his desk.
In this life, he had been trembling with fear in the Honkai world, constantly worried about being killed by the Honkai, and having to deal with endless confessions.
And now?
Working at sunrise, resting at sunset.
A single basket of food, a single ladle of water, living in the deep mountains.
“This is what life should be like.” He stretched, his bones letting out soft pops.
Carrying the picked vegetables and humming an out-of-tune song, he walked toward the Bamboo House.
Today it’s time to harvest the potatoes.
He tried planting some last year and they grew well; they stayed buried in the soil through the winter, and now that he was digging them up, they’d be perfect for a stew with Red Kite—he caught one in a trap yesterday, and it was quite plump.
As for cultivation?
We’ll talk about that in the afternoon.
It wasn’t urgent anyway.
“Master—” he called out habitually as he pushed open the door of the Bamboo House.
The door to the Quiet Chamber was open, but Fu Hua was not inside.
Arthur blinked, set down the vegetable basket, and walked outside.
Fu Hua was standing there, beneath the old pine tree.
She wasn’t wearing her Taoist robes or her green gown today, but a simple cotton dress.
Her grayish-blue hair was loosely pinned up with a wooden hairpin, with a few stray strands falling by her cheeks.
She had her back to him, looking up at the tips of the pine branches.
The morning light filtered through the gaps in the pine needles, casting mottled shadows upon her.
That figure was still upright, but it lacked the ethereal quality of an immortal and gained more…
of the breath of the mortal world.
“Master?” Arthur walked over.
Fu Hua turned around.
Two years of time had left no trace on her face.
It was still that clear and beautiful face, with eyes as azure as an ancient well.
But Arthur just felt that she was somewhat different.
Exactly how she was different, he couldn’t say.
Perhaps her gaze was a bit softer, or perhaps the sense of loneliness surrounding her had faded slightly.
“Zhaoer.” She spoke, her voice calm.
“It’s time to harvest the potatoes today,” Arthur said with a smile.
“We’re having stewed chicken for lunch.
Do you think it’s better to add dried mushrooms or dried bamboo shoots?” Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Fu Hua was silent for a moment, appearing to truly consider the question.
“Mushrooms,” she finally said.
“Got it.” Arthur clapped his hands.
“Then I’ll go dig up the potatoes first.
Do you want to come along?
The potatoes grew really well this year, every single one is huge.”
He had just asked casually and didn’t expect Fu Hua to agree—she usually didn’t participate in such “mundane affairs.”
But Fu Hua nodded.
“Alright.”
Arthur was stunned.
Fu Hua had already started walking toward the Vegetable Garden.
After a couple of steps, seeing that Arthur hadn’t followed, she looked back at him.
“Aren’t we harvesting potatoes?”
“…Ah, yes, yes!” Arthur hurried to catch up, his surprise quickly replaced by another emotion.
It was a bit novel, and a bit…
happy.
The two arrived at the ridge specifically for planting potatoes.
Arthur handed her a small trowel and took a hoe for himself.
“Need to dig carefully so we don’t damage the potatoes,” he demonstrated, gently breaking the soil with the hoe.
The brown soil was turned over, revealing a cluster of golden-yellow potatoes underneath, each the size of a fist and covered in fresh dirt.
“Look, not bad, right?” Arthur said proudly, picking one up and weighing it in his hand.
Following his lead, Fu Hua squatted down and carefully dug into the earth in another spot with a shovel.
Her movements were a bit unfamiliar, but very earnest.
The shovel turned over the soil, revealing another cluster of potatoes.
She reached out and picked one up.
The potato was heavy and covered in wet mud, carrying the distinct, slightly earthy scent of the soil.
Fu Hua looked at the potato in her hand for a long time.
Arthur continued digging nearby.
Catching a glimpse of her focused profile, an inexplicable emotion suddenly welled up in his heart.