My wife is a witch princess.

He hesitated when it came to "teaching Xia Li how to like someone".

Perhaps, I shouldn't let her understand?

There's nothing wrong with living like this, without really understanding what's going on.

Is it fair to let Xia Li live her whole life in a daze, never able to grasp the essence of emotions?

She shouldn't have been kept in the dark, living in a deliberately constructed, warm but false bubble.

Song Che closed his eyes, his breathing becoming somewhat erratic.

My mind is in turmoil, like a tangled mess with no end in sight.

He didn't know how to face Xia Li, or the girl he had been attracted to because of his momentary lust and his selfish desire to possess her.

Princess Xia Li is naive, but the other side of this naivety is an almost obsessive adherence to her promises.

She will definitely abide by the contract, whether it is explicit or implicit.

When he died of old age last time, his soul returned to Earth, and there was still a traceable path to follow.

What about next time?

When a person dies, it's like a lamp going out. The underworld, reincarnation... If these things really exist, then where do so many suffering people in the world come from, with no one to turn to for help?

He dared not think about it, nor was he willing to place his slim hopes on vague legends.

He knew Xia Li wouldn't eavesdrop.

She values ​​promises and will keep them if she makes one.

The books on the table were not yet open.

I didn't read a single word all day.

The original plan to visit my parents that evening was also canceled.

For the first time, Song Che was acutely aware of his own "immaturity." He had only thought that Xia Li had become beautiful, sensible, and considerate of him. She was so wonderful that he only wanted to hold on to her and possess her, but he had never seriously considered her almost eternal future.

He tossed and turned in bed, the problem destined to remain unsolved, at least for now, he couldn't find the answer.

Words spoken cannot be taken back, and Xia Li will never forget anything. She will remember a boy named Song Che who said he liked her, took her to see the stars and fireworks, told her that she was a living person, and gave her warmth and hope... and then in the blink of an eye, he died, disappearing into a dimension she could no longer find.

For her, a hundred years might really just be a slightly longer period of rest and recuperation.

Song Che thought that perhaps he was wrong from the very beginning.

The right thing to do was to give her a meal, then find a way to hand her over to the police, saying she was a missing person, and never bother with her again.

...It was his fault.

He knew very well that if Xia Li suffered because of him in the future, the root cause would be his current greed and selfishness.

He could not deny his initial lust at first sight, nor could he refute his strong desire to keep this innocent girl by his side.

A hundred years... for him, is a truly long period of time.

He was originally quite immature.

Anxiety and worry weighed heavily on his brow.

He knew he was thinking too much and too far ahead, but these things were destined to happen as long as life had an end.

Especially when Xia Li calmly said "I've been looking for you for ninety years," "I only have one gold coin left," and "I'm almost out of the life-saving potion," her nonchalant attitude made him feel even more choked up.

She seemed indifferent. But he did care.

Xia Li was willful and annoying when she was in the castle, but Song Che didn't think he was much better than her when he was young. Being pushed into a high position at such a young age, facing mountains of official documents and menacing enemies, she was actually... quite scared, wasn't she?

But she pulled through; she possesses a quiet, unwavering resilience.

Perhaps it's true that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. The more Song Che thought about it, the more he felt that Xia Li was perfect in every way. And this "perfection" in turn deepened his anxiety—he had to find a way that would be good for both of them.

dong dong dong.

A gentle knock on the door broke his endless loop.

“Brother Song Che.” It was Tao Xiang’s soft voice. “Sister Xia Li said she made soup and cooked rice for you, and it’s all served.”

"I'll eat later." Song Che rubbed his temples, his voice sounding tired. "Tell her she can eat as much as she wants."

"Okay, I'll tell my sister."

Song Che looked up and realized that the sky outside the window had become completely dark at some point.

He was in a daze all day.

He always prided himself on never owing anyone anything in his interactions with others, and he never intentionally tried to annoy anyone.

But now it seems that this is not the case.

He harbored selfish motives and hesitations towards Xia Li. To put it bluntly, he wanted to treat Xia Li as his possession. He didn't want to do that. Xia Li actually respected him a lot, and he wanted to respect Xia Li in return. He didn't do a good job in that regard.

Is it because he's human? He's always selfish, unlike Xia Li who's so pure.

"Let's... treat each other normally for now."

I sat there all day, my thoughts tangled in a knot, and in the end, I still couldn't find a solution.

Song Che sighed and opened the door.

In the living room, Xia Li was still wearing that large apron, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Everything was imitating his usual manner. Tonight, she was stewing the soup she hadn't been able to make herself last night. Song Che took a sip; the warm broth slid down his throat, and it tasted even better than what he had made last night.

Xia Li... is not stupid at all.

She learns everything very quickly.

It's only been a month, and she's already learning very quickly.

"Are you praising me?" Xia Li's voice came from the other end, tinged with uncertainty. "I accidentally... overheard it."

"It's alright." Song Che glanced at the clock on the wall. "The agreed time will be until tonight."

Xia Li wiped her hands on her apron. "You look unhappy. Is it because of... what I said this morning?"

"No, Your Highness."

"You're lying."

"I do not have……"

“Whenever you call me Your Highness, you’re basically trying to lie,” Xia Li said with certainty.

"...It's not entirely because of what you said." With his lie exposed, Song Che felt somewhat helpless. "Xia Li wasn't wrong. There are some things I haven't figured out myself, so it's actually my problem."

"Song Che also has things he can't figure out?" Xia Li's eyes widened, seemingly surprised. She had always thought Song Che knew a lot.

"Hmm." He nodded. "It might take... more time to think about it."

"Okay." Xia Li didn't press for details, but simply lowered her head and quietly continued eating. Although she didn't really want to admit it, she subconsciously felt that Song Che was smarter than her, and it seemed that no problem could truly stump him.

In Hit, Song Che was her contractor; here, he was her boyfriend. But no matter how their identities changed, Xia Li always felt that Song Che was the one who led the way, the one who could teach her so much. So she only needed to look forward and learn, because as long as she kept moving forward, Song Che would always be waiting for her somewhere ahead.

She ate a few more bites of rice.

The rice smells delicious.

She didn't know why, but when she ate alone, she didn't feel anything special. However, when she sat with Song Che, even the most ordinary white rice seemed to have a warm sweetness about it.

……like.

Xia Li now refers to this definite feeling that brings her peace and satisfaction as "like".

After the meal, clear away the dishes and clean the stove.

Wearing an apron and busy at work, Xia Li looked no different from any other girl learning to manage her life. It was almost impossible to tell that she was once the silver-haired, blue-eyed, noble and aloof witch princess.

As Song Che watched her retreating figure, he suddenly thought that when summer came and the temperature warmed up, she might be able to wear that witch's dress made of special material again.

Summer, Xia Li.

Summer will arrive after the college entrance examination is over.

Perhaps we'll see her wearing that dress again in the spring.

After washing up, they said goodnight to each other and went back to their rooms.

Tomorrow is the weekend. Jiang Xiaoxiao's play performance is next week, and the last rehearsal is just around the corner.

Song Che lay back down on the bed and stared blankly at the dark ceiling.

……

It was late at night, and both bedroom doors were closed, with only Bruce and Tao Yao, the two night owls, awake.

The sound of conversation could be heard from a corner of the living room.

"Sister, what happened? What is that wicked woman...?" Tao Xiang's voice was sleepy.

"I don't know." Tao Yao muttered, covering her mouth with her paw. "She keeps saying nonsensical things, 'not taking a single hair, not plucking a single feather'... This mute, all she knows is those few phrases! If it weren't for the great loss I suffered during this Nirvana Rebirth, would I, as the Great Immortal Fox of the Purgatory Netherworld, be afraid of her? No matter how powerful she is, doesn't she still need my illusions to succeed? I'm the one who takes the initiative; she has to follow my lead!"

"Sister, you're a cat now," Momoka whispered a reminder.

"Never mind the details!" Tao Yao flicked her tail. "In short, this bad woman is definitely in cahoots with that kid Song Che... Wait, I'll go to his room and find out the truth."

"Sister, don't bare your teeth. Bruce bites people and can have rabies."

Chapter 81 Song Che, I want to warm my hands (3k)

Gone, everything is gone.

He fell asleep faster than usual, but his mind was clearer than ever.

Song Che pinched his arm hard—but it didn't hurt at all.

Hmm, I'm dreaming, or rather, it's a lucid dream.

But this dream was different from the usual ones.

He couldn't control anything; it was as if he had been thrown into a movie he couldn't switch out of.

The problem now is... how do I wake up?

He got out of bed and walked out of the bedroom.

The room's layout was exactly the same as in reality, except that it was an abnormally bright daytime outside the window. He approached the window; it was broad daylight, yet the street below was deserted, eerily silent.