“I came and picked it up.”
Did he suddenly go crazy?
Sikar Blake abruptly entered my room and tossed a jewel box onto the table—as if a ring might be inside—and said exactly that.
“Isn’t this how you give gifts where you’re from? ‘I came and picked it up.'”
Too stunned to react, I stood there blankly for a moment before picking up the jewel box Sikar had thrown onto the table.
He pursed his lips, urging me to open it quickly, but I squinted one eye, half-expecting a curse or ghost to leap out as I lifted the lid.
But inside the box was neither a curse nor a ghost.
Truly, beyond imagination, a ring popped out.
And not just any ring—a gemstone ring resembling a diamond, with tiny jewels densely embedded all over.
“Th-this is for me?”
“Didn’t you ask for something round?”
Has he realized he’s the villain in this novel and lost his mind?
“I did ask, but I didn’t actually expect you to give me one…”
‘You’re not that kind of character, are you?’
Anyway, I couldn’t refuse an expensive gift. I suppressed the urge to smile and held the ring in my hand.
‘It must be very expensive. How much could it cost?’
Better to just ask.
“How much is this worth?”
“Why? Don’t you like it?”
If I say I like it, will he buy me another next time? Then I should pretend to adore it.
It’s not every day I feel this good.
I put on an expression of pure bliss—as if twirling through a field of rapeseed flowers in spring.
“I love it, I love it so much. I’ve never seen anything this beautiful in my entire life. I’m so happy, Sikar. I had no idea you were such a wonderful person!”
‘Naturally, seeing someone this delighted makes you want to buy them another. Hehe.’
I waited for Sikar’s reply with a triumphant smile.
“Really? Glad you like it. Since I bought something you like, you don’t need the ring anymore.”
Sikar shattered my expectations beautifully.
Shouldn’t he have said, ‘Since you like it so much, I’ll buy you another one’?
Why do you think like that? Why can’t you think like everyone else? Why is your focus always off?
The novel described Sikar as a politely insane man, but I must have introduced him wrong. Maybe I should just call him insane?
Anyway, since there are two rings, I should make sure to secure at least this one.
“But what about Kian? Still not awake?”
“Yeah. Still not.”
“That’s strange.”
‘If we’re talking strange, you’re the strangest thing in this world.’
“We didn’t switch the herbs or anything, yet Kian won’t wake up. We didn’t even give him Flame Grass—why isn’t he waking?”
“He’s sick, that’s why. He’s the protagonist—he won’t die here anyway.”
“Don’t you find that odd?”
“Sure, but in the original story, he didn’t wake up for a whole week either.”
“That’s exactly why it’s even stranger. I’m trying to change the original story so I don’t die by his hand, yet everything is still unfolding exactly as written.”
The moment Sikar said that, chills ran down my spine.
According to him, no matter how much we change things, Sikar is still destined to die?
The choice a villain makes when their death is clearly foreseen is as obvious as fire.
“So no matter how hard we try, we can’t change the original story?”
‘Please don’t look at me while saying that.’
But because he was staring at me while speaking, his words sounded exactly like, ‘Then I should just kill them all.’
“No, that can’t be. We can definitely change the original story.”
The man who had just given me the ring drew the long sword at his waist once again—something he hadn’t done in a while.
‘Are you tired of threatening to kill me yet…?’
“If you want to live, make my life a happy ending.”
‘A villain demanding a happy ending, huh?’
I laughed tearfully and gently nudged aside from the knife he was holding. At that moment, something suddenly occurred to me.
“I—I need to go to Kian!”
I rushed over and touched Kian’s forehead and body. Not as severe as when we first found him, but as expected, the child still had a high fever.
If the fever lasted this long, it might indicate a serious bacterial infection—perhaps even sepsis.
In such cases, antibiotics are more important than fever reducers.
‘So in the original story, the problem wasn’t caused by Flame Grass after all.’
Sikar, who had followed me, stood watching me with a skeptical posture, as if asking whether I could handle this.
“I thought your profession wasn’t medicine?”
“Sikar! Maybe we’ve been relying too much on the original story!”
“Then what should we look at?”
“It seems like a severe bacterial infection! We need antibiotics. Call a doctor!”
“I’ll summon someone to treat him promptly.”
Kian still had a fever, but since the child possessed fire affinity, it wasn’t visibly obvious from the outside.
Just how severe must it have been when we first found him?
Externally, Kian simply appeared to be sleeping peacefully—he wasn’t groaning or sweating profusely.
No wonder no one else noticed.
About an hour after we stayed by Kian’s side, the people Sikar summoned finally arrived.
But the person he called wasn’t a doctor—it was Raimon, the King’s High Priest.
‘Ah, right—this is a fantasy world with priests.’
Raimon looked younger than his late thirties. He appeared dignified and composed even at first glance.
After briefly introducing himself to me, he began examining Kian.
“My wife mentioned it might be a bacterial infection. What do you think?”
“Your Ladyship is correct. It appears to be acute sepsis. Treatment is relatively simple, so no need to worry.”
“Start immediately.”
“Yes, Duke.”
Soon, a bright light flashed from Raimon’s hands as he reached out as if to purify Kian’s body. I squinted against the glare and watched Kian.
Though Raimon claimed it was simple, the treatment took longer than expected.
“Why is this taking so long? Your skill is pathetic. How did someone like you become the King’s personal physician? The royal doctor who only treats nobility is this slow?”
Raimon was the one being scolded, so why was I sweating profusely?
Sikar berated Raimon for the slow treatment, but Raimon showed no sign of being flustered—likely because he’d endured enough nagging to become immune.
“Treatment is complete. He should be fine now.”
“So he’ll wake up soon?”
“Yes. The child’s consciousness should return shortly. But this child…”
“What about this child?”
“Ah, nothing.”
“If Gillian asks who you treated, confess the full truth.”
“Yes?”
“If you say you treated a young child, he’ll ask what kind of child. Then, you must admit you saved a boy with golden hair and blue eyes.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Gillian, who imprisoned Veronia to secure his throne and even eliminated her husband to hunt down their son Kian.
By now, Gillian must be frantically searching everywhere for a boy with golden hair and blue eyes. Sikar surely knows this—so what on earth is he thinking?
At least he’ll wake up soon—that’s a relief.
Even long after Raimon left, Sikar and I remained by Kian’s side, truly like parents.
I gently stroked Kian’s forehead, wishing the sleeping child would wake soon.
Thinking how hard it must have been for such a small body to fight a high fever made my heart ache for Kian—my nose tingled with sympathy.
“You really look like a mother like that.”
True. Sikar should feel more like a father than I do.
Though he’s too young to be called ‘father’… or maybe not, considering the era.
Just then, Kian’s eyelids twitched, and he slowly began to open his eyes.
“Finally coming to your senses?”
Kian blinked awake, looked at me with relief, then immediately tensed upon noticing Sikar.
Like a baby wildcat, Kian conjured a tiny flame on his fingertip again—but perhaps due to lingering weakness, the flame was only as big as a matchstick.
Kian strained to enlarge the flame, but it showed no sign of growing. Sikar snorted mockingly.
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of doing anything to a sick brat.”
Only then did Kian seem to relax, extinguishing the flame as if losing strength.
I gently touched Kian’s head as he looked at me with weary eyes.
“Hungry? Shall we start with some soup?”
Kian nodded weakly, and soon, Andrea arrived carrying the chicken soup I’d requested.
I took the tray from Andrea’s hands and passed it to Sikar.
“Now’s your chance, Sikar.”
Sikar took the tray as if he’d been preparing for this.
But then, holding the plate, he marched stiffly toward Kian.
Even a robot would walk more naturally than that. Sikar strode forward like a man with no joints, stopping rigidly in front of Kian.
“Time to eat.”
In a blunt tone, Sikar scooped soup from the plate and held it toward Kian’s face, twitching the corner of his mouth.
He probably meant it as a smile, but to anyone watching, it looked downright sinister.
Kian clamped his mouth shut and glared at Sikar.
Sikar watched him with blank, indifferent eyes, seemingly unaware why Kian was looking at him like that.
‘Did I tell you to smile while offering food, or to smile like someone about to poison him?’
What am I supposed to do with this politely insane man?
I guess asking Sikar to smile warmly was too much to ask.
Predictably, Kian looked at me with worried eyes and asked,
“Auntie… can’t you feed me instead?”
“You don’t like being fed by the Duke?”
“Yes.”
“The Duke feels bad about what he said to you recently and wants to make peace. That’s why he wants to feed you.”
“I don’t want to eat anything the Duke gives me.”
Kian was resolute. Pulling the blanket over his head as if swearing never to accept anything from Sikar.
Sikar set the spoon down again, looking utterly exasperated.
“Don’t know when you’re being honored.”
He’s angry again. If he can’t even talk properly to adults, how could he possibly communicate with a child?
In a hurry, I rushed to Sikar and whispered,
“I’ll feed him today.”
When I gave an awkward smile, Sikar handed me the plate with a ‘handle it yourself’ look and walked out.
I tensed, fearing he’d threaten to kill someone again like last time—but thankfully, he seemed to have learned something and said nothing of the sort.
“Shall we eat?”
Kian nodded and tried to pick up the spoon himself.
“Your body hasn’t recovered yet—I’ll feed you.”
Kian shyly lowered his head, opened his mouth timidly, and accepted the soup I offered. Soon, he looked at me as if realizing something.
“Chicken soup…”
‘Yes, that’s right! This is chicken soup, Kian! Go ahead and be deeply moved now.’
Kian burst into tears, overwhelmed by memories of his father.
He hadn’t eaten properly for days—how did he even have the strength to cry? Seeing tears stream down Kian’s face hurt my heart, but I couldn’t acknowledge it.
“Why are you crying?”
“Dad… Dad… whenever I was sick, he’d make me chicken soup… Even if the taste is different, it reminds me of him…”
Kian had barely taken one spoonful before bursting into tears again, so I stopped feeding him and hugged him.
I didn’t give him chicken soup just to make him cry like this. But seeing the child sob sadly, my own tears started to fall.
I wiped them away secretly and gently patted Kian’s back.
“I don’t know the full story, but I wish you’d forget all your sadness and be happy…”
I always thought this way—it was a sincere wish from the bottom of my heart. Hoping my sincerity would reach Kian, I gently stroked his back.
“Sniff… thank you…”
After sniffling to stop his tears, Kian’s stomach growled loudly.
Crying so much must have made him even hungrier.
“Shall we finish what we were eating?”
Kian nodded, and I fed him the soup. Seeing him eat so happily—it was just too adorable.
Children really are angelic beings.
Kian ate the soup deliciously, but seeing his emaciated frame made my heart ache.
“Once your body recovers a bit more, let’s eat some delicious dessert.”
Kian, who had been eating the soup well, suddenly put on a gloomy expression and closed his mouth.
“Auntie…”
Kian’s expression looked terribly serious. The child gazed at me with sorrow-filled eyes and asked,
“Once I finish this and fully recover… I have to leave this house, right? You’ll send me away once I’m better?”
“No. Why would you say that?”
“I overheard the maids talking in my sleep. They said I’d have to leave this house once I fully recover…”
The maids couldn’t possibly imagine we’d adopt Kian—that’s why they said such things.
‘I need to make sure the maids never say things like that again.’
“No. You can stay as long as you want.”
“Really?”
‘Then you’ll be adopted by us.’
Male lead Asks for a Divorce Every Day
It’s not often you come across a plot like this in the female-dominant genre — make sure to check it out!
This is a novel I’m planning to reread as well.
The male lead is strong, skilled in martial arts, and not the usual fragile type you often see in matriarchal novels.
Meanwhile, the female lead is a scientist—rational and logical. Even when she falls for the male lead, she doesn’t let her emotions cloud her decisions.
If you push through the first few chapters, you’ll gradually find the story really intriguing.
It has a mix of mystery, detective elements, and romance.
The author’s writing style is like crafting a puzzle—except they deliberately leave out a few pieces, making it hard to predict what happens next, yet keeping you hooked.
In the end, everything will come together and be explained.
One-sentence summary: Wife, stop playing with beakers and look at me!
In a laboratory accident, research scientist Zhu Wansheng accidentally travels to a matriarchal world. The original owner of the body is an eighteen-year-old only daughter of a wealthy rouge merchant, already married with a handsome young man.
Zhu Wansheng grins: Nice! She always said she was heaven’s favorite granddaughter. After a life of toil in her previous life, she can enjoy blessings in this one.
However, her joy lasts no more than three seconds as bad news arrives: the original owner’s family is about to go bankrupt, and her husband wants a divorce.
Even worse, she’s stuck with a research system full of restrictions.
Zhu Wansheng: ? Is this the destiny of a research dog?
——
Faced with this mess, Zhu Wansheng pours herself a bowl of wine to drown her sorrows. In her drunken haze, her husband arrives.
His figure is imposing, holding a long sword, with a dignified air that captivates Zhu Wansheng.
Gu Yingqing, however, looks at the alcohol-reeking Zhu Wansheng with undisguised disgust and coldly asks, “Divorce or not?” The intoxicated Zhu Wansheng mumbles vaguely, “I think… it’s not… it’s not… impossible!”
——
The next day, after sobering up, Zhu Wansheng is full of energy, rolling up her sleeves ready to make a big move. As for yesterday? She has no memory of it.
Zhu Wansheng is ambitious; a research dog fears nothing!
Upgrading rouge, extracting fragrances, producing perfumes, researching lipsticks… all shall bow to the power of modern technology!
The original owner’s dying rouge shop is revitalized. Her mother is pleased and with a wave of her hand, passes on the family business to her. As she takes control and her experimental results gain popularity, it’s the pinnacle of her life…
——
But there are always those who can’t stand to see her doing well. Jealousy, scheming, assassination attempts – they want nothing less than her life.
The person who has always kept his distance from her suddenly holds her tightly in his arms, eyes full of concern.
She is unharmed, but he falls into a pool of blood…
Zhu Wansheng feels guilty, “I can grant you one wish.”
Gu Yingqing tentatively circles his arms around her, carefully resting his head in the crook of her neck, pleading softly, “I regret it. Can we not divorce?”
Zhu Wansheng: ? When did I agree to a divorce?
[Small Theater]
The newly developed rouge is beautifully packaged, and Zhu Wansheng is eager to try it.
Gu Yingqing suddenly appears: “My lady, may I apply it for you?”
Cool fingertips lightly brush her lips. His Adam’s apple bobs as he leans in for a light bite.
Zhu Wansheng: ?
Gu Yingqing: It smells so good, I wanted to taste it…
On a warm spring day, Zhu Wansheng tries a new perfume: “Spring Night.” Gu Yingqing corners her against a wall.
Warm breath lingers on her neck.
“My lady, from now on, may I test the fragrances for you?”
[Humorous female scientist vs scheming live-in son-in-law male lead]
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
