Chapter 50 The urge of hormones—this feeling I both love and hate. ...
I started hiding among the piles of books in American libraries.
I've been going to the National Library today, Yale Library tomorrow, and Harvard Library the day after for some time now.
I'm so tired. My legs are tired, but my heart is even more tired.
But they gained nothing.
I checked the time; it was almost four o'clock. I rubbed my aching legs and prepared to stand up and leave.
The castle maid helped me find a part-time job at a coffee shop near the Yale Library. She and the owner were super close, and even though the owner knew I was on a tourist visa, he still agreed to let me work there.
Just like when I used to work, I spent most of my time in the back room, not afraid of attracting the attention of the immigration authorities.
I'm not afraid of getting dirty or tired; I usually just wash dishes or help out in the kitchen.
I hailed a ride and jogged all the way, sneaking into the kitchen through the back door. The coffee shop was already bustling with activity. It was still afternoon tea time, and many students and tourists were sitting inside taking a break or chatting.
I was washing dishes by the kitchen sink while wearing plastic gloves.
While I was busy, I suddenly lost focus and found myself in a dark and secluded corridor.
I was stunned—
Maids were running around me, but they ignored me.
"Hurry, hurry, bring the basin of hot water over here."
"Where's the towel? Why hasn't the towel been brought over yet?"
"The lady is about to give birth."
Ah, Bernard's wife is about to give birth? That stuttering girl? My mind went blank, my legs felt like lead, yet I kept walking forward involuntarily.
I moved to the doorway of the room where the maids were going in and out, took a deep breath, and then dared to look inside.
A large crowd huddled around a bed covered with thick curtains, from which came the woman's screams and cries.
"I'm not having any more children, I'll never have any more..."
Those around her tried to comfort and coax her, saying, "Which woman doesn't go through childbirth like this? Everyone goes through this pain."
The woman inside the bed curtains screamed hoarsely, "Get out! All of you, get out!"
These beautifully dressed women looked on with disdain and whispered amongst themselves.
"Is she the more precious one?"
"Just an illegitimate daughter."
"Not born yet?" A deep, resonant male voice came from the doorway. I looked up with everyone else.
It wasn't Bernard, but a tall, burly man with a black beard. He wasn't particularly handsome, but he exuded an imposing aura of someone who had long held a position of power.
The women all bowed, "Your Grace, Duke."
The Duke stood in the doorway, frowning, pinching his nose. "There's a strong smell of blood. Is he dead yet? Why hasn't he given birth after so long?"
These words were cold and callous, yet no one dared to object to them. The women were so afraid that they didn't even dare to raise their heads. "Alive, still alive, Madam is alive."
It turns out she was the duke's "wife"—but it's unclear whether she was a legitimate wife.
The Duke left, pinching his nose amidst the screams of the woman in labor, and I followed him as if possessed.
This is not an open corridor in a bitterly cold place, and no wind or snow is blowing in, yet it inexplicably exudes a bone-chilling cold.
He suddenly stopped and turned around, staring intently in my direction with a sinister look.
I held my breath, not daring to breathe too loudly.
After a long while, he turned around and continued forward.
I followed even more carefully, almost as if I were floating.
Stepping into a brightly lit stone hall, one hears the sounds of men drinking, boasting, banging on tables, and gambling, mixed with music and women's laughter.
"Duke Abdul, congratulations on becoming a father!" I suddenly heard Byrne's teasing and quickly looked over.
Bourne, whom we hadn't seen in a long time, sat on a soft, luxurious mat. He seemed to have gained weight, his chin rounder, and he was grinning at the Duke. A scantily clad, curly-haired beauty brought a wine glass to Bourne's lips. Instead of drinking, he kissed the woman hard, causing everyone to burst into laughter.
"What's there to congratulate?" The Duke plopped down in a chair, and two heavily made-up beauties immediately rushed to his side, one sitting on his lap and the other massaging his back.
"Of course, congratulations!" someone joked. "This is your first time becoming a father, and this banquet tonight is all for you."
The Duke chuckled. "I have a daughter."
“That was just an adopted daughter,” the person who spoke earlier laughed, “How can she compare to the one who is about to be born? Even if she is an illegitimate child, she is still our own.”
The Duke smiled too, “An adopted daughter is better than a bastard.”
“That’s right,” the man laughed again, “How many adopted daughters can hold onto a prince’s heart? Haha.”
"Since your adopted daughter married the eldest prince, I haven't heard of him having any mistresses," another person said while drinking.
When the topic of romantic affairs came up, the men were all very enthusiastic.
"I heard that the eldest prince's former mistress was very ugly. Is that true, Bourne?" the drinker asked Bourne with a chuckle.
Bourne pretended not to hear as he drank his wine.
"Lord Bourne, please give us a hint," several people egged him on.
"You're the only one among us I've ever met."
Bourne then slowly began to speak, “She’s not exactly ugly, but she’s not exactly a beauty either. She’s jealous and won’t let any mistresses get close to the eldest prince. She even beat up the eldest prince’s ex-wife.”
The men burst into laughter.
I felt my face burning, not because I hit him, but because he hit me himself.
The musicians were overjoyed and played their violins and accordions even more merrily, while the beautiful women pulled the men into dancing, filling the hall with boundless joy.
"She's given birth! She's given birth!" Suddenly someone rushed over, panting and shouting.
Duke Abdul gripped the cup in his hand tightly. "Is it a man or a woman?"
"Congratulations, Duke, it's a daughter."
The wine glass was smashed to the ground with a bang, and Duke Abdul's expression changed drastically. He immediately stood up and left.
The music stopped abruptly, and no one dared to speak.
I immediately felt bored; it was just another story about male chauvinism. I drifted away.
Yes, I'm like an invisible cloud of smoke right now—I can feel it.
I somehow drifted to a courtyard of the castle. A magnificent carriage was covered in heavy snow. A guard carrying a thickly wrapped swaddled baby rushed over and handed the baby in through the carriage window.
"Oh, so you really had a son?"
The familiar, low-pitched, elegant, and icy sound emanating from inside the car sent a shiver down my spine.
"Yes," the guard replied respectfully.
The carriage immediately started and headed towards the small gate of the courtyard. Unexpectedly, it stopped abruptly after a while, and a tall, handsome man in a black fox fur cloak stepped out of the carriage. Pale snowflakes fell on his translucent, almost translucent skin, and his icy blue eyes shone with a dazzling light. His long, silver hair, like a waterfall, fluttered quietly in the wind and snow.
He was staring straight in my direction.
This is Bernard in his true adult form.
He has completely shed the childishness of the Japanese anime prince who slept in the tower, and also the rebelliousness and hostility of the harsh land.
They have become cunning and calculating.
I don't know why the phrase "cunning and shrewd" suddenly came to mind.
He stared intently at me, and I stared back at him dumbly.
I'm not afraid of him finding me—he can't find me.
He could only stare at me with suspicion and uncertainty in my direction.
Suddenly, he took two large steps toward me, while the guards beside him looked at him in surprise.
My breathing became rapid—
Just as he was about to touch my face, the baby's cry rang out from the carriage, particularly jarring in the quiet courtyard.
But he wanted to kiss my eyes.
I stood there, stunned.
The guards were also stunned.
The moment his kiss landed on my eyes, I felt his familiar breath, along with the icy chill of falling snow, wash over me...
At that moment, I suddenly found myself back in the coffee shop kitchen.
The bowl in my hand wasn't finished washing, the tap was still running, and water was overflowing into half the sink.
"Ann, watch out, the water's about to overflow!" a coffee shop girl exclaimed.
I hurriedly turned off the tap. "Okay, it's alright now."
Then I quickly washed the dishes, super fast, while ensuring they were clean... and kept busy like this until I got off work.
Stumbling into the street, I wrapped my trench coat tighter around myself. It was awful to suddenly find myself in another world, but it was even worse to suddenly feel like I was in love.
Knowing that it's impossible with him, yet still clinging to fantasies, is the most hateful feeling.
"We're just driven by hormones," I told myself, clenching my fist.
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Author's Note: Sorry for the late update, sigh, it's so hard to write, 5555~~~ Thank you everyone for continuing to follow the story and not giving up~~~
——
Thank you to all the little angels who voted for me or watered my plants with nutrient solution between 16:47:15 on December 16, 2020 and 14:28:26 on December 23, 2020!
Thank you to the little angels who threw landmines: Wusuai-Lulu and Zijin (1 each);
Thank you so much for your support! I will continue to work hard!
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