It had been many years since Fenmu’s coming-of-age calamity. He and his bargain-bin master, Anastasia, had opened a coffin shop on the border of the Kingdom of Lodelan. They called it “The House of a Thousand Departures,” and began their plain, uneventful life together.
On the bed, Anastasia had her adorable male disciple in a joint lock, her legs wrapped around his neck. Feeling the soft warmth pressing against both his cheeks, Fenmu honestly couldn’t tell whether this was torture or bliss.
“You little brat, you’re getting bolder by the day. I didn’t quite catch what you said just now. Say it again?”
“Master, I was wrong!” Fenmu tried to struggle, but eventually gave up and could only beg for mercy.
This whole situation had started because he’d just woken up from a nap and, still groggy, hadn’t thought through his words before asking, “Master, how old are you?”
The moment the words left his mouth, the beautiful girl—who looked twenty-five, no, not a day over eighteen—flipped him onto his back and pinned him down.
But Anastasia clearly had no intention of letting the little rascal off. She bent her neck, the tips of her purple hair falling over the young man’s face as her wine-red eyes gazed down at him.
She was quite satisfied with Fenmu’s face. Now that he’d outgrown his boyishness, he was still handsome and refined, not rough and jarring to look at. But there was one thing she still wasn’t happy about: the three choices she’d given him before.
The third choice had only been a spur-of-the-moment idea to tease the adorable boy and see how he’d react—would he be eager, hesitant, or embarrassed? But she’d never expected Fenmu to pick the first one without a second thought!
Anastasia valued her own strength above her beauty, but she knew just how devastating her looks could be. If she kept her name to herself, noble girls would even be willing to kiss her feet and offer her their love. Of course, the men of this world didn’t qualify.
In Anastasia’s eyes, the weak and unremarkable were little different from ants on the ground. The men under the True God pantheon were obviously no exception.
Then she’d met someone who carried her “corpse” around for years, only to turn her down when she looked back.
So after they left the mountains and woods, the more Anastasia thought about it, the more annoyed she got.
“Ooooooh! Master, I admitted I was wrong, so why are you squeezing harder and harder?” Fenmu put on a look of strained protest and managed to say, “If you’re still not done venting, Master, go ahead and squeeze harder. Your disciple can take it!”
This kid, seriously...
After Anastasia released him, she saw the disappointment and boredom on Fenmu’s face. She couldn’t help feeling both amused and exasperated.
“Tell me, do you like boys?” She figured that was the only explanation. Otherwise, how could he have turned down such a tempting choice back then?
“Of course not?!” Fenmu was horrified.
What’s she planning? Is she going to punish me some other way? I can’t beat her at wrestling♂ with this scrawny body!
Worried that his master might act on impulse and come up with some weird new way to torment him, Fenmu took the initiative and arranged her long, beautiful legs in the same position as before. Then he stuck his own head between them and let her lock him in place. She hadn’t even squeezed yet, but he was already putting on a pained expression.
Mouth-open, eyes-shut guy.jpg (pained expression)
“Then why did you… Never mind.” Anastasia hesitated. Asking him about that so directly was just too embarrassing.
“Don’t leave me hanging!” Fenmu wondered if this was his master’s new form of punishment—deliberately tormenting his curiosity like this.
“By the way, Master, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Why did you ‘die’ by the river back then?”
They’d lived together for so long that Fenmu knew Anastasia was immortal. Even if she sometimes took her own head off to scare him or pulled out her heart to air it out, she still wouldn’t die. So why had she “died” on Cemetery Mountain back then?
The purple-haired woman lifted her head and recalled what had happened. From Fenmu’s angle, he could see her slender, graceful neck and delicate chin. She said:
“I suppose I just felt like dying for fun one day. When I did, I noticed someone approaching, so I decided to keep playing dead and see if anything interesting would happen. Wandering around Cemetery Mountain in the middle of the night isn’t exactly something a respectable person would do.”
So she’d run into me, the idiot who thought he should take her “corpse” home...
Fenmu groaned. “Master, that was way too much! You made me drag the coffin around with you inside it for so long!”
“When something interesting happens, you have to watch patiently and see what comes of it. Besides, you slept so soundly and happily every night with my body in your arms. You spent years sleeping beside a female corpse, and even talked to her now and then. You really are adorable!”
Hearing that out loud was about as embarrassing as the childhood memory of sneaking a peek at the village granny while she was bathing.
Anastasia smiled and reached out to stroke her disciple’s face. She loved seeing Fenmu look awkward and mortified. It made her feel happy and satisfied.
Fenmu had no choice but to change the subject. He continued in a quiet voice:
“About those choices you gave me back then…”
“...Go on.” Anastasia hadn’t expected him to bring that up. Had she given something away just now?
“If I’d chosen the second one back then, would you really have killed me?”
Anastasia smiled. But then her expression turned serious and cold, and she answered earnestly:
“Of course. You had the chance to become my disciple and still weren’t satisfied. Didn’t you deserve to die?”
Fenmu gave an awkward smile, glad he’d made the choice he did back then.
“—But after you died, I would’ve controlled your spirit and made you my disciple anyway.” Anastasia smiled again.
“Then it wouldn’t have mattered which one I picked!” Fenmu said incredulously. He was only learning this now.
“Then how about I give you another chance to choose? Want to try something new?” Anastasia’s lips curved into a seductive smile as she wondered how the boy would choose this time.
Considering what things had been like back then, her disciple might have been thinking about his own safety and simply hadn’t known her well enough to risk testing out the third option. But now they’d lived together for so long, and the brat even dared to joke about her age. Surely something had changed—even if he’d developed a few naughty thoughts?
Sure enough, Fenmu looked like he was weighing his options.
That’s more like it. My first male disciple. Anastasia wore a faint, self-satisfied smile.
“I think I’ll still…”
Before Fenmu could finish, the door slammed open. Campbell, the female mayor, rushed in. When she saw Anastasia and Fenmu in such an intimate position, she gave them an embarrassed, apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry, Miss Anastasia. I hate to interrupt you and your little husband’s happy time together, but please believe me, I have a good reason. I need to borrow your little husband for a while. The knights sent here by the Church have urgently summoned the nearby swordsmiths...”
The story that Anastasia and Fenmu were married had been made up to keep people from prying. In this world, women held a higher status than men, especially in households with cultivators. Without a wife as the pillar of the household, Fenmu would’ve been driven mad by the women who came to bother him every day.
Anastasia fought down the urge to lose her temper. Calm down. If she got angry now, they’d have to move somewhere else again.
Once she’d composed herself, she still didn’t bother to hide her displeasure. She said coldly:
“He’ll go over in a little while. We’re closed right now, Madam Mayor. Next time, remember to knock before coming in.”
Around town, Anastasia was known as an unknown swordswoman with a terrible temper and immense strength. The townsfolk had seen her abilities with their own eyes. Though Campbell was the mayor, all she could do was swallow her frustration and leave.
“Haaah... My good mood is completely ruined.”
The gorgeous purple-haired woman tensed her legs slightly and, with a hint of spite, squeezed her thighs around her disciple’s head. Fenmu let out a scream from the depths of his soul:
“Hmph! Hmph! Aaaaaaah!”
