Chapter 177 This kind of confession is a bit forceful…
It started pouring rain that day, and there were hardly any people walking on the streets. I suddenly had an idea to go to the basement of Yale University, which happened to be nearby. I braved the rain and entered the basement, only to find that another person was there as well.
It turned out to be Mr. Worston, whom I hadn't seen for over a month.
I hadn't seen him since our last meeting in the basement, so when I suddenly bumped into him there, I asked in surprise, "What are you doing here?"
"I just wanted to come and take a look."
Naturally, they wanted to look for opportunities from the past.
"Don't you care about the property here anymore?" I asked him in surprise. "Why are you so eager to go back?"
"My ancestors were kings there, why wouldn't I want to go there?"
I was shocked—was he planning to inherit the throne? I burst out laughing: "Are you kidding me? The throne of the West is nowhere near your reach!!"
The princes are fighting over it, and King Midian is even eager to wipe out all his brothers. How could he, an outsider, possibly have a chance? He could argue that he is also a descendant of the King of the Westerlands, but there is no DNA testing in this world. What proof could he possibly have? Even if he could prove it, the throne might not be his. Even native-born princes might not get it, let alone him.
He remained silent in the face of my mockery.
He crouched down, carefully searching among the bookshelves. "Is this really a transit point?"
I didn't respond, but instead walked from one row of bookshelves to the other. Who knows if this is a transfer point? We're just speculating.
After walking around for a while and searching for some time, we still found nothing.
Just as I was about to leave, my vision suddenly blurred, and the scene abruptly changed—I found myself in a beautiful and luxurious palace, surrounded by pure white columns, and roses and lilies blooming brilliantly around them. This palace was unfamiliar, but I knew I had entered another world.
I had only taken two steps on the non-slip red and white mosaic tiles when I heard the women's giggling. But after a short while, I heard an old man's angry roar, the giggling stopped, and the sound of hurried footsteps came rushing in. I hid behind a pillar.
A group of completely naked women rushed out, blaming each other: "We told you not to tell jokes, but you insisted. Did you anger the King?"
"But didn't you just see it? Wang Ye laughed, and laughed very happily, but suddenly he got angry for some reason."
"Oh dear, don't you know that Wang is a bit moody? He can be overjoyed one minute and furious the next, so the best way is to avoid his mood swings."
Several women ran toward the pillar in front of me while talking. I forgot that they might not be able to see me, and I shrank back in fright. Suddenly, a hand pulled me from behind to the other pillar. Just as I was about to cry out, another hand covered my mouth.
The women passed by the pillar where I had just hidden, not seeing me behind the pillar on the other side. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, only then realizing that I might be invisible here.
"Is this another world?" A familiar young man's voice came from behind me. I turned around in surprise. "It's you? What are you doing here?"
“I don’t know,” Worston said, looking bewildered. “I just suddenly got here and saw you.”
It seems that the basement of the library is indeed a transit point in another world. I'll have to study it carefully when I get back.
“Where is this?” Worston asked me.
“I don’t know either.” I looked around the palace. “I wonder which realm’s palace this is…” Suddenly, it occurred to me that of the four realms, I had never been to the palace of the Eastern Realm. So this must be the Eastern Realm.
That's why it looks so unfamiliar.
The gaze turned to the room the women had just run out of. So, was the king in this room Bernard's father?
Unable to resist, he walked over, with Worston close behind.
When I saw the luxurious king-size bed in the room, I was stunned, and so was Worston.
A group of women left, but another group of women remained on the bed, all with their buttocks naked, their long hair hanging down, covering most of their bare bodies.
They were fawning over a crowned, white-haired old man who was half-reclining on the bed, also naked. Yes, a white-haired old man. His face was full of wrinkles, and his hair and beard were all white, but his body was still strong and muscular, with firm eight-pack abs, a large triangular pelvis, and a firm, slightly upturned buttocks, not at all like an old man in his twilight years.
“Who is he?” Worston asked me in a very low voice.
I was about to answer when I suddenly noticed the white-haired old man looking at me warily, and I immediately fell silent. Worston was also terrified and dared not speak again.
The white-haired old man abruptly pushed aside the naked women, stood up naked, his eyes fierce and cold, making the air freeze instantly.
It was that look in his eyes that made me recognize him, and I covered my mouth—it was an elderly Bernard. His face was covered with wrinkles, and his eyes were extremely fierce, like a wolf that hadn't eaten for three days and three nights.
I didn't recognize him at first glance, perhaps because his eyes were too fierce.
Worston was panting heavily behind me, terrified. I couldn't tell him we were supposed to be invisible; I was too scared to speak, my mind still a bit muddled. How did I end up in old age in Bernot? This timeline was a mess.
The naked old man stood menacingly and precisely in front of me. He waved his hand as if to grab me, and I was so frightened that I didn't dare to breathe. His hand swept across my neck, but he missed.
To him, we are nothingness—it seems my previous speculation was correct; we are invisible.
I grabbed Worston and slowly moved him away from the room. Before I could take more than two steps, the old man lunged forward and spat at me. Before I could react, I heard the women gasp and saw the old man's sly, ecstatic eyes. All eyes were on me, and I instantly realized that the spit had exposed me.
But Worston clearly wasn't. Everyone's attention was on me; Worston was invisible.
"Sure enough, this method works." The naked old man's eyes were strange and excited. He suddenly grabbed my wrist and shouted, "Where are the handcuffs?"
I suspected the handcuffs were one of their toys, because no sooner had I spoken than a pair of silver handcuffs were handed to him. With a clang, my hands were cuffed.
"Where do you think you're going to run now?!" The old man carried me to the bed and handcuffed me to the headboard. The naked women gasped and scattered.
"Your Majesty, who is she?"
"How did she suddenly appear at your palace?"
Aren't you afraid she's an assassin?
"Get out of here, all of you!" the old man roared. The women vanished without a trace, leaving only Worston cautiously backing away and settling down in a corner.
With a whoosh, the old man pulled down all the bed curtains, completely covering the bed. He deftly ripped off all my clothes, frowning as he said, "Your clothes are so ugly. I thought they were incredibly ugly when I saw them last time."
Was it that time at the library? I didn't dare ask.
He stripped me naked, saying, "I don't like the look of your clothes."
I really wanted to yell at him, but I didn't dare. I didn't want to provoke this old man who had become strange in his old age and do something even more terrible.
"Why aren't you saying anything? You used to be so good at yelling, weren't you?" he muttered, placing my hand on his firm, muscular abs. "So what if I'm old? Your figure and skin are still not as good as mine. Feel it, you'll never get a body like mine in your entire life! So many years have passed, and your chest is still so small, your legs are still so thick, and your belly is still so flabby. You can't compare to me in any way."
For some reason, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. His tense expression relaxed slightly. "What are you laughing at? Is it that funny?"
I stopped laughing and remained silent.
He didn't force me to speak. He curled up next to me like a cat, close to me, leaning on my shoulder, and closed his eyes, seemingly a little sleepy.
I didn't dare move, letting him lean against me. Listening to his slow breathing, he seemed to be asleep.
The bed curtains were slowly drawn back, revealing half of Worston's face. His mouth opened and closed as if asking me, "What should we do next? Should we escape?"
His gaze fell on my handcuffs, and he silently asked if I could unlock them now. I shook my head and looked at the old man beside me who seemed to be fast asleep.
He expressed his confusion, and I sighed. I moved slightly, and the old man suddenly opened his eyes. The sharp light shot towards the bed curtains like a sword, and accurately found Worston.
Worston hesitated for a moment, then froze, too afraid to move.
"Are you alone?" the old man asked slowly, looking at me. "Or are there others here? Trying to rescue you?"
Of course I wouldn't answer. The old man stared at me, "Don't even think about escaping! I'm almost at the bottom of my life, I can't lose you again."
The old man's tone softened a bit, "Although I'm old, I'm no less attractive than a young man. You'll see once you try. I have plenty of money; I'll give you as much as you want. No matter how vain you are, I can afford it. I know you've been with several excellent men, but let me tell you, I'm the best one."
Such a declaration of love is somewhat forceful and strange, especially coming from the mouth of an old man with completely white hair and beard.
Has his hormones not yet subsided? Has his longing for love not yet been exhausted? Why is his yearning for affection still so intense as he approaches the end of his life?
I didn't notice that he was quietly getting up and heading towards Worston. Worston was frantically trying to signal to me, but I didn't pay attention for a moment.
With a spit, he spat at Worston, who was terrified and instantly revealed his true form. I immediately snapped back to reality.
"Is this the man you brought? Your new husband?" The old man suddenly lunged forward like a madman, grabbing Worston's neck tightly. I lunged forward too, trying to pull the old man away. The old man tried to shake me off, but couldn't. He shouted, "Get away from me, or I'll hurt you!"
I continued to pull away with all my might, but the old man was furious and spat at Worston again. In an instant, Worston and I both disappeared.
I felt a sudden dizziness and in the blink of an eye I was back in the basement.
Worston sat on the floor, complaining of a headache, his hands pressed against his temples, while I leaned against a bookshelf, feeling dizzy...
Ten minutes later, we came out of the basement. The rain was still pouring down, and nothing in the real world had changed, but Worston and I looked at each other differently. I was a little annoyed and disgusted; that old man spitting was really disgusting. Worston, on the other hand, looked excited and whispered to me before getting into his luxury car, "It's good that everything in the book is true."
Perhaps every man dreams of being an emperor.
-----------------------
Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait, everyone. Starting today, I will try my best to update regularly. Keep it up! Hehe~~
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
