Yihan didn’t vanish. He simply kept retreating through the thick snowflakes, gradually fading from Lia’s sight.

Snowflakes swirled down, and he truly felt the cold—so vivid, so real. Even the flakes landing on his face felt tangible.

He relaxed his whole body, raised his arm, closed his eyes, and muttered, “…Time to wake up, I guess.”

He snapped his fingers swiftly.

All sounds and sights quickly faded away. He felt surrounded by heavy water, sinking and floating. When he opened his eyes again, dawn’s light streamed through the window, illuminating half the room. The bedroom was quiet. The kerosene lamp on the nightstand had long gone out.

Reaching under the quilt, Yihan frowned slightly.

Didn’t quilts in this world hold warmth? Why was it as cold as when he first got in—not warm at all?

Well, it was another world after all. He couldn’t judge everything by his old standards.

He sat up in bed, stretched lazily, yawned, and got out.

He put on all his clothes, kicked open the wooden door, and let the brilliant spring sunlight pour in, enveloping him.

Under the clear sky, the garden was serene and elegant. White fences and lush cedar trees formed a secluded enclosure. A winding path through the verdant grass led straight to the fan-shaped gate. Wildflowers bloomed along the way, and colorful butterflies fluttered.

Honestly, this transmigration experience wasn’t bad. He got a quaint little villa and a garden to boot—fulfilling his old wish for a peaceful countryside life.

Checking the time, Yihan happily left the gate and headed toward the bakery in Windmill Town. Nearby, windmills turned in the fields, and the lake shimmered under the sun.

From his explorations over the past few days, he deduced this world resembled Europe. The country he was in, the Springwater Kingdom, lay in a warm southern region—a true neutral nation relying on tourism and handicrafts for its economy.

At exactly nine in the morning, he arrived at a bakery in Windmill Town’s center. The aroma of freshly baked bread was rich, mingling with sweet floral scents and sugary jam, filling the air.

Though he planned to coast through life, he had no inheritance. What good was a villa and garden alone? After much thought, he decided to find a job—the bakery assistant was his top choice. It would cover his meals, the work wasn’t too heavy, and baking bread seemed fun to him.

The chubby uncle, both owner and baker, told him to serve at the front counter, then scurried behind the oven.

All morning, Yihan helped customers by introducing items and bagging them. Near noon, he slipped to the shop door with a ham-stuffed baguette. A row of day laborers sat there, basking in the sun.

He liked listening to their chatter—a way to understand this world better.

The biggest recent uproar was a mysterious Witch appearing in the northern nations, her body wreathed in flames!

No one knew her origins. No one had heard of her before. Like a forest fire, she appeared out of nowhere and set several neighboring countries ablaze.

All negotiations failed. Armies gathered against her were shattered. The only confirmed detail was that her grand actions were just to find one person. But who? Male or female? What name? By the time it reached Yihan’s Springwater Kingdom, rumors were rampant—impossible to pin down.

“Seriously? Breathing fire like a dragon? And no one can beat her? Is that all the northern nations have?” Yihan snorted, taking a huge bite that halved the baguette.

Even the Papal State and the Empire took it seriously, sending out mysterious Sorceresses and Demon Hunters. But as long as the trouble didn’t reach the Springwater Kingdom… no, as long as it stayed away from Windmill Town, he could stay out of it.

Anyway, he wasn’t a proper transmigrator. His only ability was choosing dreams while sleeping—a purely self-entertaining power. He’d never tie himself to saving the world.

Before he finished lunch, he saw the chubby uncle hiding half his body behind the door, frantically waving at him.

“Me?” Yihan pointed at himself, surprised.

The uncle nodded vigorously, his eyes anxious.

Glancing at the day laborers chatting animatedly, Yihan set down his bread and dashed over. The uncle closed the door to the backyard, his expression odd.

“A woman specifically asked for you,” he whispered, pointing toward the bakery’s backyard—a lush little grove of trees.

“A woman?” Yihan almost jumped up, his reaction exaggerated.

He’d only been in this other world a few days. He could barely name three or four people—and none were women.

She came all the way to the backyard just for him? Was all this secrecy necessary? Why not just say it in the shop?

“Who is she? Is she pretty?”

The uncle stammered, “She’s beautiful—a rare beauty… but…”

“But what? Did she say why she’s looking for me?” Yihan perked up instantly. This world had everything—house, job—but lacked women. He had a feeling his romantic encounter was about to begin.

The worldly-wise uncle saw right through his thoughts. Wanting to help, he warned gravely, “Her identity is… special. You need to be extra careful around her…”

“What? Is she the mayor’s daughter or wife?”

“You’re even targeting the mayor… kid, you really don’t know how to spell ‘death’…” The uncle sighed heavily, wiping his face with a wistful expression. “You must’ve heard the recent news.”

“Yeah, I know. A Witch has been causing chaos in the northern nations. The Papal State even formed a crusade. But what’s it to us? It’s far away,” Yihan said nonchalantly.

“It’s not my problem, but it’s tied to you,” the uncle snorted coldly, giving him a ‘you’re on your own’ look. “Do you know who that woman is?”

“Who?”

“She’s a Witch Hunter…”