In the end, Derek still declined Pola’s “free shipping” service with deep regret.
Still, he left a request: keep an eye out for items similar to *Hohenheim’s Alchemical Notebook*.
Hohenheim was a grand alchemist from a millennium ago. His scattered notebooks numbered more than one. They contained unique alchemical formulas—potent tools in specific situations.
Truthfully, Derek wanted to list props from his memories and have Sterga Trading Company collect them.
But Duke Wudewen had informants everywhere in the capital. If he learned Derek commissioned Sterga to gather rare items, suspicion would follow. So Derek had to let Pola “naturally” search for *Hohenheim’s Alchemical Notebook* instead.
After visiting shops and auction houses, Derek grew weary.
Time to head back. He returned to the entrance of Verdant Gold Wutong Street, ready to board his carriage.
Just before reaching it, he spotted a group of oddly tense people waiting.
As he drew closer, they noticed him—and moved instantly.
*Thud.*
They all knelt in unison.
Though reincarnated recently, Derek had received many bowed heads. Yet this public spectacle still unsettled him.
He opened his mouth to ask their meaning—but they cried out first:
“Young Master Derek, please forgive us!”
Their foreheads slammed against the ground as the words fell.
*Forgive?*
*What did they even do?*
*Did they slash my carriage tires?*
Derek glanced at the tireless carriage wheels.
A single sweep of his eyes revealed the truth: at the group’s forefront stood a familiar, rotund figure.
*Wasn’t this guy already taught a lesson by me?*
*Kneeling after getting beaten?*
*Such thorough service… a waste of talent for a mere extra.*
Derek hadn’t expected their “service” to go further. The lead servant announced: Piggy’s father, Piggie, had personally gone to the Duke’s manor to apologize to Duke Wudewen.
*Seems Piggie outshines me in the art of getting dads in trouble.*
Uninterested in punishment, Derek waved them off.
*Why stay silent?*
He knew speaking would only worsen things.
Kind words twisted on his tongue. Two careless phrases might drive them to seppuku—a bloody mess he’d rather avoid.
Derek tried to leave, but they wouldn’t “release” him so easily.
“Young Master Derek! My young master failed to recognize a mighty mountain! Please forgive him! We’ve brought exquisite pastries as apology—accept them, we beg you!”
*Piggie’s apology lacks sincerity. Sending servants again?*
Derek had no intention of taking the box.
He prepared to walk past—when an intensely hot gaze landed on him.
That unrestrained boldness felt familiar…
Sure enough, Teresia stared at him, then flicked her eyes toward the servant’s pastry box. Her glistening eyes shone like stars, brimming with hope—or rather… *hunger*.
Derek lightly covered his forehead.
*Has this world mixed something up? This shameless little glutton bears no resemblance to the Holy Lady I know.*
…
In the end, everyone was satisfied.
Seeing Derek accept the pastries, the kneeling crowd sighed in relief. Teresia’s joy was even more radiant.
Derek sighed softly, straightened his clothes, and boarded the carriage with elegance.
Teresia followed, hopping in with her usual liveliness.
Feeling the carriage sway, Xinzel frowned and snapped the reins again.
Hooves clip-clopped crisply as the fine horse galloped toward the Duke’s manor.
Alone in the swaying cabin, Derek kept his gaze out the window—he was being watched again.
*Just how was this Holy Lady raised?*
*So bold.*
Alone with him, Teresia pondered again: *Why is Young Master Derek so kind to me?*
But thinking alone wouldn’t solve it. Not feeling particularly clever today, she tentatively spoke:
“Young Master Derek…”
Truthfully, Derek dreaded talking to Teresia.
His curse turned every word into dislike. Rebuilding goodwill took immense effort. He avoided conversation whenever possible—yet she kept provoking him.
*(I don’t want to talk.)*
Cold, but polite. His actual words were simpler:
“Shut up.”
*All the manners he’d learned in kindergarten, returned to the teacher.*
The command made Teresia frown, a flicker of unhappiness crossing her face.
But after nearly a day with Derek, she understood his twisted nature: *He often snaps at me, but never truly harms me. No need to fear.*
*Yes. Young Master Derek is a good person.*
Heartened, she tried again, voice softer:
“Young Master Derek, I just wanted to ask—*Mmmph!*”
Her cute call was cut off.
Derek had opened the ornate pastry box beside his seat. He grabbed a soft cake resembling yōkan and shoved it into Teresia’s pale pink, cherry-like mouth.
*Only this will silence her without resentment.*
Teresia’s displeasure vanished as she chewed. The soft cake melted, releasing fruity fragrance across her tongue. Her unhappiness dissolved into bliss, her tense face softening instantly…
“Mmmph! Drek shon—”
Perhaps lacking proper etiquette training, she spoke mid-chew, utterly unconcerned with decorum.
Derek ignored her.
*Once Teresia matures, she and Leon just need to help me crush that witch who cursed me. Nothing else matters.*
He grabbed another cake to silence her again.
This time, Teresia resisted. She seized his wrist, took the pastry, and declared earnestly:
“Slow down. I’ll feed myself.”
Derek was stunned.
*Damn it. This girl’s as forward as ever. “Feed myself”?!*
Ignoring his reaction, Teresia hummed a happy tune in her heart and savored the treat.
After finishing, she extended her tiny tongue to lick the lingering sweetness from her lips.
Still craving more, she unconsciously opened her mouth with a soft “Ah—”
Then she realized what she’d done. Her cheeks flushed pink as she carefully closed her lips.
Derek had seen it all.
He could only sigh inwardly…
*I give up on you.*
*Unimaginable—that this girl becomes the Holy Lady!*
*Who’d think a villain like me would be feeding the Holy Lady in a carriage?*
*This “feeding play” feels straight out of an R18 scenario.*
*If Teresia remembers this when grown, her shame might turn to hatred—and she’d reduce me to ashes.*
*For a brighter future, better behave.*
Derek placed the entire pastry box before Teresia.
She blinked, glancing at him questioningly.
He nodded.
*Holy Lady, be happy.*
Permission granted, Teresia beamed. “Yay!”
Both small hands dove in. One cake in each palm, she ate eagerly, her pink cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk’s.
Flavors blended delightfully in her mouth. Her mood soared.
*Young Master Derek really is a good person! Anyone who gives Teresia tasty treats is good!*
*Wait—what was I going to ask earlier?*
*Never mind! As long as the pastries are delicious!*
Teresia’s thoughts cleared completely. She grabbed more pastries, savoring every bite.
