Chapter 220 Strait
The Melda family in Casa Strait is actually quite famous locally because of "Daitou".
In local slang, "daitou" means foolish, straightforward, stubborn, and simple-minded. This modest fishing couple had twelve children, all of whom they raised. It was a staggering number—especially considering that three of them were children of distant relatives who had come to seek refuge there, and five were adopted orphans.
For fishermen who rely on the sea for their livelihood and depend on the mood of the sea god all year round, raising these children is truly an amazing achievement.
"The year when I officially became the seventh child was the most difficult. My younger brothers and sisters needed milk, and the older ones had to go out to work. Our employers complained that we ate too much and worked too little, and they tried to lower our wages." Ma Shilin looked at the increasingly familiar dark and rugged reefs on both sides of the river, and gradually revealed a look of nostalgia.
"We were so hungry that we had no other options. My eldest sister led us to secretly climb the steepest cliffs, where no one else wanted to go, to steal seabird eggs. We also went to the beach to dig up the nests of tide turtles. Then, we were chased by giant tide turtles as big as millstones and had to run all the way home."
As she spoke, she couldn't help but start swallowing. "Then Mom would make egg pancakes for everyone, adding minced meat from small crabs and shrimps. The ones we got were usually only the size of our little fingers—but they were so delicious. Every time, I couldn't bear to eat them all in one go. I would secretly hide them under the covers at night and eat them. I'd even dream about the delicious taste."
The wind blew through her red hair, making it burn like a flame. Ole glanced at her without saying a word, but rubbed the red-haired girl's head roughly.
The professor and his companions set off after arranging matters in Port Morris. Esker Rabbi and his brother had already returned to Skua Wharf. Since it was on the way, Maxine simply invited the group to her home for a rest.
"I haven't been back for quite some time."
She sighed and looked up at the narrow, light gray sky. Flocks of white birds, busy courting and building nests, chirped and twittered incessantly, and from time to time feathers fluttered down, mixed with a sneezing, itchy smell—spring had arrived.
Mrs. Melda was a lovely woman who always looked cheerful, with a laugh so loud that it could be heard even through the window. She had the same shaggy red hair as her daughter, and her round face showed no trace of sadness.
The moment she saw her daughter, Mrs. Melda even forgot to put down the spatula and rushed over screaming, picked up Marcyline and spun her around again and again.
"My little Marceline, my darling! I miss you so much!" She stroked her daughter's face with her rough palm, then touched her bandaged hand. "Look at you! You've grown taller and stronger. You're just like a little red stonefish!"
"I missed you too, Mom!" Marcyline reached out to hug her back, easily lifting her mother high up, making Mrs. Melda laugh.
Several children rushed out of the crooked old house like calves and bumped heavily into the red-haired girl's legs.
"Marchline!"
"Sister Marshilin!"
Maxine bent down and picked up the youngest sister. The others climbed her like a tree. When an older boy pulled them out one by one, they were still clinging to the corners of her clothes reluctantly.
"I smell something delicious!" The youngest one sweetly hooked his arm around Maxine's neck, kissed her on the cheek, and said confidently in a baby voice, "Biscuits! It must be cookies!"
The young man on the side had a stern face, looking troubled by the unreliability of his mother and younger siblings: "There are guests here, no fooling around!"
Mrs. Melda then noticed the presence of three well-dressed strangers behind her daughter. She quickly put the spatula into the boy's hands and wiped her hands on her apron.
"Mom, they are all my good friends, from far away." Maxine introduced them one by one: "Ore, Azuka, and... uh."
She suddenly hesitated about whether to tell her mother the man's real name. After all, his majesty's fame was practically known throughout the Silver Iris Empire. Mrs. Melda wouldn't dwell on it, but she couldn't prevent someone with ulterior motives, and it could put Melda's family in danger.
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Melda."
The professor glanced at the boy with a look of vigilance in his eyes, and simply took off his gloves first. While preparing to make up a fake name, he tried to reach out to the person - suddenly, large areas of blankness appeared on the black-haired young man's face.
A warm, sweet smell, as if baked by the roaring fire, enveloped him. Mrs. Melda did not shake hands with him, but took the lead in hugging him warmly, her eyes so loving that she seemed to be looking at a little baby: "By the Sea God—child, look at how thin you are. You must be exhausted from the long boat ride here."
He opened his mouth, but found that his brain was working so fast that it was about to smoke, but he had no idea what to say.
"Are you okay? You look so pale and your hands are so cold. Are you seasick?" Seeing that he didn't say anything, Mrs. Melda touched his hand and looked at him worriedly. Before he could answer, she shouted to the stinky-faced boy, "York! Go find some rum and cut some dried apples and boil them in the pot!"
Maxine was stifling a laugh. Seeing that His Majesty was already getting angry and trying to retreat, she coughed softly to help him out: "Ahem, Mom! He's fine, he was born like this!"
"Born?" Mrs. Melda looked at her daughter blankly.
"Really!" said Marchine seriously. "Look, York is naturally so dark, and Daisy is naturally so fair—he has a naturally low body temperature, so he's actually in good health!"
It sounded like nonsense, but Mrs. Melda quickly believed it. The professor then watched silently as this short but respectable lady, using the same hugging method, enthusiastically greeted the assassin, who looked formidable, and the mysterious masked man one by one.
But York was not so easily fooled. He looked at the guests his sister brought back one by one with fierce and vigilant eyes like a wolf cub.
The tall and dangerous guy, the secretive guy, the guy who doesn’t even say his name and who is obviously not a good person - what kind of people are these!
His younger siblings were quickly captivated by the gifts the visitor brought: in addition to some basic food bought in town, there was also a bag of honey cookies, twice the size of their heads. The little ghosts cheered with joy, even happier than at the holidays. The youngest, Daisy, had already boldly climbed onto the assassin's lap and curiously touched the dagger at his waist with her little hands.
Ole was practically frozen. He had absolutely no experience raising children, and the child in his arms was so soft and fragile that it felt like it would break if poked. The assassin couldn't help but glance at his other two friends, pleading for help—but Marcylin was completely immersed in a wonderful moment with her family, and Azuka had already cleverly scurried into the kitchen, offering to help prepare dinner.
Mrs. Melda was so thick-skinned that she didn't think there was anything wrong with the other person entering and leaving the kitchen with only his eyes exposed.
As for the tyrant, Mrs. Melda still pressed him into a chair and wrapped him tightly in a blanket. After refusing the liquor, she pressed a cup of herbal tea that was said to warm the body into his hand and told the children not to disturb him.
"You didn't say a name."
The professor was expressionlessly holding the coarse porcelain teacup with a cute kitten sketch on it, sipping it, when he heard the boy named York speak coldly beside him.
He paused and raised his head slightly. The boy was startled by the highly transparent smoky gray eyes and instinctively took a step back.
"Tom," the other drawled.
York frowned a little and asked bluntly, "Pseudonym?"
"Or Jerry, whatever you want to call me." The guy didn't feel guilty even after being exposed, and answered calmly in an extremely irritating tone.
"...You'd better not have any bad intentions." York couldn't help but clench his fists, glaring at the man, and warned him fiercely: "Sister Marshilin is very powerful. She can smash a stone with one punch, and she can also knock you down with one punch!"
The black-haired young man blinked slowly: "Yeah."
York: “…”
Ahhh what a nasty guy!
When Mr. Melda returned, the Melda family had already prepared a dinner that was more sumptuous than usual. The older children had gone out to work and no longer lived at home, but the small old house was still crowded and lively.
Mr. Melda had a scraggly beard and as soon as he came back he gave his wife a passionate kiss, which made the children sigh in disgust and some even covered their eyes with their hands.
The other party was equally delighted when he saw Maxine, and accepted his daughter's "good friend" at an incredible speed, warmly inviting them to sit down and have dinner together.
Only then did Azuka take off his outer robe, revealing his face under the warm, dim light of the fishing hut.
Click.
York, who had been keeping a close eye on the outsiders' every move, suddenly trembled his fingers and the spoon fell directly into the soup bowl, splashing a large amount of soup.
"Eat." Marcylin tapped her brother's head. "Today we have your favorite grilled shrimp. If you don't eat it soon, it will all be gone."
"He, he he he—" York stammered for a long time, and finally couldn't help but grab his sister's sleeve and roared at her in a low voice: "Sister Marcylin, who on earth did you bring home?!"
The moment the other person revealed his face, he even felt that the old house, which was dim under the oil lamp, was brightened for a moment. The other person was a thousand times more handsome than the most famous drama actor, no, ten thousand times more handsome!
"What's wrong?" Maxine looked at her friend in confusion, then turned to look at her brother. "Azuka, he has indeed grown a little better, but it shouldn't be so exaggerated, right?"
She had long been accustomed to this face, and after looking at it for a long time, she even found it a little hateful. Perhaps it was because this person smiled so gently when he was about to plot against someone, which made her feel nauseous.
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