As the saying goes, even a Hero faces tough times.

Of course, most Heroes never expect that no matter how brave, they’ll eventually meet that day—the moment they step into a grave. Not death, but the grave of emotions: marriage.

If it were just about bonding with the woman you’ve loved for years, that might be happiness. Simple: marriage, kids, daily life. But the real terror isn’t the wife herself. On your wedding day, all her relatives will hound you like bloodhounds—your whereabouts, your scent, your identity, even your deepest secrets.

All vanishes completely that day.

Now, Zeming is there too.

"Elusa," Zeming said, "if you want to bond with your sister, I can sleep on the couch. No problem at all."

He hadn’t expected this situation at all.

"No need," Elusa replied. "I’ll sleep on the floor. Tent, sleeping bag—I’ve got everything ready."

Seeing Elusa’s grave expression, Zeming honestly had zero confidence about sleeping peacefully tonight.

"But sister," Eira said from the bed, clutching the blanket to her chest and blushing, "this makes me uncomfortable. Zeming is troubled too."

"Don’t be shy," Elusa countered. "Who watched over you when you were sick as a kid? Now you say this?"

"But that was childhood! We’re adults now!"

"I don’t care. Just sleep. My rest schedule is strict, so I’m turning in."

Though she claimed to sleep, she only leaned against the wall, eyes slightly closed, watching.

Was she really asleep?

The woman staying here hadn’t let Zeming vacate the room. All three shared it.

Yes—one woman half-opened her eyes, unclear if asleep, but those eyes tracked his every move.

Eira and Zeming lay on the bed, using separate blankets to avoid suspicion. Awkward enough sharing one blanket, but now they had to act normal under a woman’s gaze.

"Sorry," Zeming murmured. "The situation’s... not good."

Truly not good.

Though in pajamas, the tension was thick. They tried staying calm, but whenever their arms brushed, body heat spiked.

Zeming was super excited, almost ready to reclaim a label he’d kept for years. If only someone wasn’t watching—or if his gorgeous wife weren’t so violent—everything would be fine.

"Let’s... sleep," Eira said. She knew her sister’s stubbornness. No point arguing.

"Okay, but I can’t sleep."

"Guess it’s unavoidable."

Hoping darkness would hide them from that gaze, they turned off the light and lay down.

In that quiet, Zeming felt lost, forgetting what peace even meant.

But he tossed all night. Those eyes were like a wolf’s cold stare in the dark, ready to bite.

Unable to bear it, he slipped out of bed and left quietly.

"Haa..."

Yawning, he tiptoed to Vivian’s room, peeking inside.

Amidst plush toys, Vivian lay on her side, half-covered by the blanket, her face blissful and comfortable. Zeming envied her.

Her fair skin, cute face—it was like an angel gifted by heaven.

He gently covered her, smiling at her peaceful sleep.

No extra thoughts. Zeming tilted his head, patted Vivian’s hair, and left with a smile.

Still restless, he headed to the fridge, grabbed a milk carton, and chugged it straight from the bottle.

The icy chill jolted his senses. The smooth sweetness burst instantly, soothing his nerves in a pinch.

Such a lovely daughter. He was glad to be alive.

"Full marks for caring for your daughter."

"Whoa!!"

Startled, Zeming spun around, dropping the milk.

Luckily, his reflexes kicked in. A quick kick caught the carton mid-air—thanks to precise control.

"Elusa! What are you doing here?"

She sat on the couch, legs elegantly crossed, watching him silently.

"Observing."

"But like this... whatever. I’m going back to sleep. If you need anything—"

"Sit. Here."

"Uh, coming."

She ignored his words, simply ordering him over.

"Sit anywhere."

"Right, I’ll sit anywhere."

Being told this in his own home felt weird.

He shuffled to the spot beside her—her pointed direction. When he tried other seats, her glare warned him off.

"You want to talk, don’t you?"

"Yes. Like at the restaurant, I still don’t approve of your marriage to Eira. You two don’t fit."

"...So you want us to split up?"

"Of course not. You have a child together. How much... well..." Elusa paused awkwardly. "I won’t ask about your intimate moments. Or if Eira’s pregnant. But for Vivian’s sake, you can’t separate."

Her forced calm was impressive.

"So it’s fine then?"

"Maybe. But I still don’t trust you."

"Why?" Zeming couldn’t understand.

"Simply put, I can’t accept you. Your life and Eira’s are worlds apart."

"...I have no reply to that."

Zeming was just ordinary. Nothing compared to Eira, a top-tier Hero.

"Exactly. Eira’s dream lover isn’t you. I know my sister’s heart."

"What? An old classmate?"

"No. Let me tell you a story. Then you’ll understand."

A secret Eira never shared with him.

Even now, lying in bed, she still wrestled with it in her sleep.