He opened his eyes after a sound, deeply refreshing sleep.
Glancing at the wall clock, he saw it was ten-thirty.
Three hours later than his usual waking time, but considering how eventful last night had been, three extra hours of sleep felt perfectly justified.
Getting out of bed, he saw Lunt's bed was already empty, the quilt neatly folded.
He stepped into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and washed his face. Without him even realizing it, looking at this face in the mirror no longer felt foreign. The handsome, youthful visage reflected back at him seemed as though it had always belonged to him.
It was as if, deep in his subconscious, he had already accepted this home and everyone in it as his true family.
Leaving the bathroom, he went down from the third floor to the second.
Aunt Mary was leaning over, wiping down the dining table. Today she wore a peach-pink dress that accentuated her graceful curves—a pleasing fullness without a hint of flabbiness, exuding the distinct mature charm of a woman her age.
Morning sunlight streamed in through the second-floor window, bathing her in a halo-like glow like a fine oil painting from a master's brush, exquisite and timeless.
Karen stood on the stairs, resting both hands on the banister. He watched, slightly entranced, a faint smile appearing on his lips.
Aunt Mary seemed to sense someone behind her. Turning her head, she saw her nephew standing on the stairs.
He wore a white shirt with the top buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of pale chest. The casually open collar looked as though it had been artfully arranged by a stylist, and damp locks of hair clung to the sides of his face.
Above all, the smile at the corner of his lips was pure and bright.
Not every gaze carries malice, nor does every smile carry lust. Appreciating beauty is simply human nature.
Just as when a man looks upon a beautiful young woman, the boundaries of morality and personal integrity prevent untoward thoughts; one merely delights in the beautiful person, the lovely scene, and the serene atmosphere, finding genuine pleasure in the moment.
Aunt Mary's perspective on Karen was much the same.
Her nephew had inherited the fine genetic traits of the Inmerlais family, and since growing more cheerful and composed over the recent days, he gave off the warmth of a gentle boy next door.
With looks and presence like that, who could fail to like him?
"I overslept, Aunt Mary."
"What would you like to eat?" she asked.
"I'll just throw something together myself."
The timing was awkward—a bit too late for breakfast, a bit too early for lunch.
Karen walked into the kitchen and put some water on the stove to boil. Then he took out two eggs, cracked them into a bowl, added a pinch of salt and sugar, and began whisking.
Once mixed, the water in the pot was boiling.
Karen scooped some pre-chopped scallions from the cutting board into a ladle, drew a ladleful of boiling water, and poured it smoothly in a circle along the rim of the bowl into the beaten eggs. Done.
"Where's Uncle?" Karen asked between sips.
"Wasn't there a welfare case today? Once it was finished this morning, Paul drove the hearse away to transport it. Your uncle rode along with him to check out his crematorium."
"Ah." Holding his bowl, Karen walked over to the dining table.
The headline of the Rojia Daily was still a recap of the recent protests, launching fierce attacks against the old mayor. The paper had been laid out and printed the previous evening, so nothing in this morning's issue could have been changed yet.
Yet everything was bound to shift today. Setting the others aside, Ford's disappearance alone would be a massive boulder dropped into the mayoral race. As for whether the fallout favored or harmed the old mayor, that remained to be seen.
For all anyone knew, the old mayor might be accused of resorting to extreme measures to persecute a political rival. But that was beyond Karen's control, and he had little interest in piecing together the whole puzzle. It was too exhausting.
"Karen, Mina's teacher called to say she's coming by for a home visit today," Aunt Mary said. "She'll be here around lunchtime."
"Oh?" Karen was surprised. Shouldn't home visits be scheduled after school or during holidays, when the student was actually home? Mina was still in class at school, yet her teacher was visiting on her own? And at lunchtime, no less. Typically, visitors avoided mealtimes to spare everyone the awkwardness.
"So that's why you're dressed so nicely today, Aunt Mary," Karen said with a smile.
"I have errands to run soon, so could you entertain Mina's teacher for lunch in my place?"
"Huh?" Mina had excellent grades and was the class monitor. For the parent of an honor student, a parent-teacher conference or home visit was practically an enjoyable treat. Besides, what could be more important than a child's education? Although Karen himself was a high school dropout, the Inmerlais family tradition placed great emphasis on education. So...
"A female teacher?"
"Yes. Miss Eunice, Mina's mathematics teacher."
"Aunt Mary."
"Yes?"
"I'm only sixteen. Strictly speaking, not even sixteen yet. And you're already setting me up on a blind date?"
"No, no... Well, actually, Miss Eunice is only nineteen."
Fortunately, Aunt Mary didn't know the old saying about marrying an older woman bringing bars of gold, or she surely would have added: A bride three years older brings gold bricks to hold.
Karen tapped his forehead lightly, pulling up the memories of the previous "Karen." The reason the customary age of adulthood in Ruilan was fifteen was that culturally, once you turned fifteen, if you weren't pursuing further education, you were essentially ready for marriage. Ruilan's tradition was early marriage and early childbirth. That was also why, despite Mina and Lunt being as old as they were, Aunt Mary still looked so youthful—she had had her children young.
"Can I refuse, Aunt Mary?"
"No, you can't. That would be rude."
"All right. Should I go change into different clothes later?"
"No need. You look wonderful just like this. When meeting for the first time, it's best to show your most natural side, isn't it?" Mary was exceedingly confident in her nephew's looks.
Karen asked, still perplexed, "Does Grandfather know about this?"
"It was Grandfather's idea. He told your aunt and me to arrange it for you."
Karen blinked, lowered his head, and took another sip of his egg brew. "Understood."
"Also, once the body from this morning was transported out for burial, the helpers were given the day off. Grandfather will be at the church at noon, and neither your aunt nor I will be home for lunch. So you'll have to prepare lunch for you and Miss Eunice yourself. Got it?"
"All right."
Aunt Mary leaned over the table, brushed back Karen's bangs, and gave him an encouraging fist pump. "Miss Eunice is very pretty. She's from Wien, and her family is supposedly aristocratic. Her poise is immaculate. Still, I know you can do it!"
Conquer her with your exquisite cooking and handsome face!
Karen sighed. "She's nineteen, and I'm half a month shy of sixteen. She's already a teacher, while I'm a high school dropout. She'll probably look at me like a little kid. I wouldn't be surprised if she greets me as 'little brother.'"
Aunt Mary laughed. "What woman could resist a cute little colt?"
In Ruilan slang, "little colt" held much the same meaning as "little puppy" did in Karen's past life.
"Besides, you don't feel young at all, especially after recovering from your illness," Aunt Mary added.
Your uncle practically feels like calling you his uncle.
"Anyway, do your best!"
"All right, I'll do what I can."
After all, this was an assignment from Grandfather.
Aunt Mary picked up her handbag and left.
After finishing his "breakfast," Karen headed downstairs and out into the yard.
It was a lovely day, bright and clear. Winter sunshine always brought a singular sense of comfort.
"Good morning, Young Master."
Alfred's voice drifted over from the east as he hopped the fence separating the Inmerlais property from Mr. Mark's.
"Young Master, Mrs. Mark invited me over for coffee and treated me to some freshly baked apple pie."
Karen looked at Alfred. "Lucky for you Mr. Mark wasn't home, or you'd be in trouble."
"Oh, Mr. Mark was home. In fact, he was even more enthusiastic toward me than Mrs. Mark."
"Then you're in even greater danger."
"Young Master, Ms. Molly couldn't stop praising last night's spring rolls. She asked me to convey her heartfelt gratitude to you."
"She actually ate them?"
"Yes. After all, she eats people without even spitting out their clothes."
"Fair point."
"By the way, Madam said all the helpers have the day off today."
"Then why are you still here?"
"I wanted to see if you needed anything arranged, Young Master—flowers, balloons, candles, or perhaps a pendant or ring."
Saying this, Alfred gestured toward the limited-edition Santland parked by the gate. "I have it all prepared, Young Master."
"Did you order a wedding dress?"
"Not yet, but if you need one, I can have it delivered by this afternoon."
"You really have too much free time."
"Indeed, for I spend every waking moment contemplating how best to serve you. To tell the truth, I am rather curious about what this mathematics teacher looks like. She likely has no idea what grand destiny awaits her today."
"Now you're getting completely ridiculous."
"Not just anyone gets the honor of ending up on a mural."
"There's nothing else for today, Alfred. You can go take a break—perhaps head to your radio station and review your script for tonight."
"I've already prepared it. Tonight's script for Rojia Story Hour is all about food. Young Master, your culinary prowess has opened the door to an entirely new world for me. I plan to produce a whole series on your cooking. Hmm, starting with something simple... like cold dishes."
"Then why aren't you getting to work?"
"Right away, Young Master." Alfred produced his car keys. "Young Master, would you like me to leave the car for you? Taking a beautiful lady on a drive is a deeply romantic gesture. And the intensity of that romance is directly proportional to the price of the car."
"I don't need it."
"Quite so. Your greatness requires no such trivial trappings. Forgive my vulgarity."
Alfred bowed, got into his Santland, and drove off.
Karen sighed. Turning to head back inside, he noticed Mrs. Mark standing in the neighboring garden, watching Alfred drive away. Behind her on the front steps stood Mr. Mark, gazing after Alfred's retreating vehicle with the exact same expression.
In truth, if one overlooked Alfred's sycophantic devotion toward him, there was no denying the man's charm. Especially the night before, when he mimed answering a telephone with that deep, velvety broadcast voice.
Karen mimicked Alfred: "Welcome to Rojia Story Hour. I am your host, Karen Inmerlais."
He chuckled to himself.
Walking into the living room, he brewed himself a cup of tea, sat down on the sofa, and picked up the casket catalog to browse through.
In his previous life, when he had first saved enough money to buy a house, he had loved poring over real estate listings in every spare moment, unable to stop. In this life, he had developed a habit of flipping through casket listings. After all, strictly in terms of cost-effectiveness, a casket seemed far superior to a house.
He picked up his teacup and was just about to take a sip when—
"Aren't you going to prepare?"
"You scared me."
He hadn't even noticed when Purr had perched there, directly above his head.
"A lovely young lady is about to arrive at your home for lunch, yet an accomplished cook like you is wasting time browsing a casket catalog. Have you already fast-forwarded that far—picking out the model for your joint burial?"
"Why do I detect a hint of jealousy in your tone?"
"Me? Jealous? What a joke! Do you have any idea how old I am? Do you?!"
"No man in his right mind would comment on the age of a cat."
"..." Purr bristled.
"In my eyes, you're just a brat. No, even Diss is just a kid to me."
"Right."
"I'm merely showing concern. I think you ought to prepare a lavish lunch to welcome your serendipitous match."
"By the way, Purr, was Miss Eunice arranged by Grandfather or Aunt Mary?"
"I don't know," Purr mused. "Though I'm sure Diss knows about it."
"Does she have no ties to the family? I mean the Inmerlais family. She's from Wien, supposedly of noble birth."
"Oh, so that's what you meant. In that case, there must be a connection."
"Must be?"
"You know I rarely leave the house. Diss never takes me along when he goes out. Even scenes like last night aren't something I experience often. So when it comes to the Inmerlais family's affairs, I don't know all that much. Maybe Diss knew them? Or maybe your parents did? Who can say?"
"Diss told me last night to consider studying abroad. I kept feeling like he was putting his affairs in order."
"No need to wonder—he was."
"Did something happen? Because of me? That... god descent ritual?"
"Assuming Diss chose not to kill you, I don't think he would make that kind of mistake. None of the people who know would betray that secret, including Mr. Hoffen, who's still clinging to his last breath. Do you know how many times the hospital called this month saying he was in critical condition? Yet every single time, they managed to revive him."
Saying this, Purr glanced at the golden retriever curled up in the corner. "Old Hoffen just won't die, so how much longer is this stupid dog going to stay in our house?"
"If Old Hoffen dies, the dog will probably live with us permanently."
Purr raised a paw to cover its eyes and groaned, "Ugh, this stupid dog lowers the average cultural standard of our household pets. You have no idea—sharing space with an actual dog makes me feel degraded."
"All right, all right. The pickled greens I fermented earlier should be ready. I'll make you fish with pickled greens for lunch as a consolation."
"Hmm? Are you having that for lunch with the young lady, too?"
Karen shook his head. "I'll just make something simple for lunch."
"So the fish with pickled greens is just for me?"
"Yes."
Purr had been remarkably well-behaved last night. While the cat was habitually mouthy at home, outside it was genuinely obedient and cooperative.
"Praise the evil god!"
"Heh."
Finishing his tea, Karen headed upstairs to the kitchen and began making the fish with pickled greens for Purr. Purr sprawled beside the stove, occasionally nudging jars of seasonings toward Karen with a paw.
"I'm really curious—where did you learn so many ways to cook fish? For that matter, your cooking spans so many different styles."
"Is there an evil god with the gluttonous nature of a Taotie?" Karen said evasively. "Maybe that's what I am."
"What's a Taotie?" Purr asked.
"Looks pretty similar to you."
"I feel like you're brushing me off."
"Honestly, as long as food is clean, there is no high or low in flavor profiles. Of course, on that foundation, variety is always better. Even the most delicious dish grows tiresome if you eat it too long."
"Like a partner?"
"That's a poor analogy. Growing old with a partner is more like the wonderful process of fermentation."
"Like me watching Diss turn from a kid into a grandfather with my own eyes?"
"Were you and Diss partners?" Karen chuckled.
"Hahaha! Only a lunatic would be his partner. He doesn't even know how to cook fish!"
"It's almost done, just needs to simmer a bit longer. By the way, do you want me to make you a cup of coffee?" Karen asked.
"No need. Today I'll drink the broth."
"All right, then help me peel this first."
Karen tossed two cloves of garlic in front of Purr. Purr reached out a paw in confusion, pawing at them. "You want me to use cat paws... to peel garlic?"
"Yes, if you ever want me to cook fish for you again."
"Fine. I'll peel it."
Purr began peeling the garlic with its claws, while Karen started preparing the flour.
"What do you plan to eat with her for lunch?"
"Hot-oil noodles. Last night was exhausting, so today I just want to indulge in some carbs."
Just then, the sound of an engine came from outside.
"She's here!"
At the second-floor windowsill, Purr poked its cat head out, holding a half-peeled clove of garlic in its mouth.
Karen also walked over, kneading a ball of dough.
A taxi had stopped outside the house. A girl in a black dress, her hair draping over her shoulders, stepped out.
"Wearing black to a blind date? Looks like she was forced into this too," Purr said, continuing to peel the garlic with its paw. "Get ready to eat raw garlic, miss!"
Having paid her fare, the young lady thanked the driver. As the cab drove off, she turned around to face the front gate of the Inmerlais residence.
Her exquisite features seemed personally crafted by the Creator, paired with a tall, slender figure. Accented by the long black dress, she carried an aura poised gracefully between delicate charm and regal maturity.
Some beauty can be praised in words; other beauty defies even the richest vocabulary.
Purr stopped peeling garlic.
Karen stopped kneading dough.
The young lady seemed hesitant about whether to push open the gate herself, peering inside to see if anyone was on the ground floor.
"Karen, I admit... she's only a tiny bit less pretty than I was when I was human."
"Purr."
"Hmm?"
"How about you have noodles for lunch instead?"
Chapter 45