“Xiao Xi, look! See this new outfit your adorable wife made you? Crafted from dragon scales shed from my tail—super rare material! Ordinary folks wouldn’t even know it exists!”

“Xiao Xi, look again! I caught this ultra-ultra-ultra… rare magical beast just for you! Should help with your magic training, right?”

“Xiao Xi, look once more! This is from your dear…”

…

Deep within an unnamed cave in the Black Forest, a sweet, childish voice rang out again and again.

Directly opposite its source sat a black-haired, gray-eyed boy.

His hands glowed with warm silvery light as he worked meticulously with various materials.

Every single one was an ultra-epic-grade resource—nearly impossible for ordinary people in this world to obtain.

Gazing at them, the boy’s eyes held intense focus. No—utter concentration.

Completely absorbed in his own world: that was Cang Xiaoxi now.

Only his appearance slightly contradicted that seriousness.

By looks alone, Cang Xiaoxi seemed only six or seven years old—a delicate, handsome boy whose glance could instantly trigger any girl’s maternal instincts.

And the heroine snuggled beside him, silver-haired Jikuhir, had long since drowned in that very feeling.

Piles of gifts scattered around the cave spoke volumes.

Though she appeared only a few years older—a pure, petite girl—this detail was easily overlooked.

After all, she was over two hundred years old: a true adult. Her physique just… hadn’t quite caught up.

Same went for Cang Xiaoxi.

Don’t be fooled—he’d turned seventeen just days ago, a high school student back on Earth.

Though circumstances reshaped him, here he was legally marriageable. As for this so-called “wife”…

“Hold up. Seriously, can we pause? Dragon Sovereign~?”

A flicker of annoyance flashed deep in his eyes.

Cang Xiaoxi ceased channeling magic, set down the half-finished magical artifact, and—for the first time that day—met the gaze of the petite Dragonkin girl claiming to be his wife.

“Oh dear, oh dear! Drop the ‘Dragon Sovereign’~ We’re family! So formal feels awkward, right? My good hus~band~?”

Oblivious to the disdain in his eyes, she affectionately stroked his soft black hair.

*Hehe, Xiao Xi’s finally talking! Hunting these inferior creatures was worth it. Mm-hmm, such a devoted wife… How many kids should we have?*

Thinking completely off-track—enough to make anyone mutter, “Are your eyes decorative?”—Jikuhir hugged his back tighter.

“Mwah~ mwah~ mwah~! Spoil me more, okay? Want anything? Need anything? Just tell Kuku! Kuku will make it happen! After all, I’m the world’s strongest Dragon Sovereign!”

(Sure. Anyone with near-zero combat power loves declaring themselves “strongest.”)

Jikuhir puffed her flat chest proudly and pressed flush against his back.

“You… you really… really are…”

His eyebrows twitched repeatedly.

Anger simmered at her blatant overstepping.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Did you think of something for Kuku to do?”

Golden eyes sparkling, she tilted her head with pure, well-meaning curiosity—completely ignoring his clear irritation.

This borderline suicidal behavior? Honestly, very *Dragon Sovereign*.

(Though he’d utterly crushed her days ago. “Strongest”… sure. *Probably*.)

“Heh. I have one—no, two—requests for the Dragon Sovereign.” Barely suppressing fury at her near-flirtation and old memories, Cang Xiaoxi spoke flatly.

“Mwah~ I said no ‘Dragon Sovereign’! I’m your wife!” Jikuhir pouted, doubling down, then giggled. “What is it? Don’t hold back! I’ll do anything!”

“‘Anything’? Perfect.” A smile—of a very different kind—finally touched his lips. With genuine sincerity, he addressed Jikuhir: “Simple. Leave this cave. Fly straight west. Oh, and take the trash with you. That’s all.”

“Take the trash… fly west… that’s it?” She murmured, double-checking.

“Mm. Yes.” He nodded. “Exactly.”

“I was worried it’d be something hard! Thought Xiao Xi wanted to… *do that*. If it’s just this? Super easy!”

Relief softened her features. As if she’d braced for an impossible demand.

A tiny crack formed in Cang Xiaoxi’s resolve to drive her off.

“One last question… What *did* you think I’d ask?”

“Eh?!” Surprise bloomed on her flushed face as she tidied trash.

“Oh my, so embarrassing! Why ask that?!”

Hands covering her blushing cheeks, her silver-furred tail—peeking from under her skirt—shyly swayed left and right.

Her signature flustered state. Peak lolita-girl moment.

Cang Xiaoxi instantly knew: whatever she imagined was *not* good for him.

Regret hit hard. *Why did I ask?*

“Never mind. Forget it. If it’s private, don’t say it.”

He backpedaled. But Jikuhir? Never surrendering!

Staking her pride as Dragon Sovereign! Staking Dragonkin dignity! She clasped hands behind her back, eyes crinkling shyly. “I… I thought Xiao Xi finally wanted my first time… Even if you’re still little… I wouldn’t mind giving it now… I swore to be your wife, so…”

“I won’t see you off. May your journey west be smooth.”

Shutting out her absurdity, Cang Xiaoxi turned back to his work.

“Mm, got it! You be careful too! If trouble comes, sense me with magic! Wherever *you* are, I’ll rush back!”

Airheaded? No—textbook fool.

Blind to his “just leave” subtext, Jikuhir hoisted a huge bundle, spread illusory silver wings, and soared toward the western horizon, smiling brightly.

“Finally gone.”

Only when her magic faded kilometers west did he pause again.

“‘Love me’? ‘Sworn wife’? What’s wrong with that petite Dragon Sovereign’s head?”

A disgruntled sigh escaped him.

Memories of their first meeting—and her sudden “wife” declaration—stirred deep disgust.

“Promises… utterly meaningless. Especially between men and women.”

He recalled regressing from seventeen to six before arriving here.

The more he dwelled, the more ridiculous grand vows felt.

Waiting endlessly for a dreamlike, impossible promise?

He’d had enough. Wouldn’t waste this second life waiting—especially not for a woman.

…Though he knew Jikuhir meant every word *now*.

But who guarantees that sincerity lasts one year? Ten? A hundred?

If short-lived humans fail, how could Dragonkin—whose lifespans stretch many times longer—succeed?

Not prejudice. Hard-earned truth.

“World Tree’s west anyway. She won’t fly far.”

He’d chosen “fly west” carefully.

Her homeland—the Dragonkin settlement at the World Tree—lay not far west.

Maybe seeing it would make her stay. A small kindness from him.

After all, the little girl *had* cared for him well these days.

“That’s all.”

After over an hour packing essentials, he—using a body that looked like a child’s and truly was one—shouldered loads an adult would struggle with.

A hint of nostalgia for days shared with Jikuhir lingered as he resumed his journey.

But—

“I’m back! Miss your adorable wife, little Kuku~? Xiao Xi?”

A shadow shot past.

She leaped into his arms, nuzzling his small chest.

Two hours. Circled the entire world—a speed leaving light in the dust. Jikuhir returned.

Faced with such game-breaking, bug-level power, Cang Xiaoxi wanted to cry.

“Ugh… How many times now? Still can’t shake her.”

“Shake? Shake what, Xiao Xi?”

Innocently tilting her head, stray hairs bouncing, Jikuhir peered down at his muttering.

“Nothing. Really. Nothing.”

No explanation. A man doesn’t shed tears lightly—and this wasn’t his first rodeo.

Thus, after failing—probably the 14,250th time—to ditch the Dragon Sovereign insisting on being his wife, Cang Xiaoxi surrendered.

As her affectionate strokes enveloped him, his mind drifted: summoned as a seventeen-year-old student… regressed to six… relentlessly pursued by the petite Dragon Sovereign…