Chapter 2
Sinderel left the room.
He turned his back to the door, looked coldly at the handkerchief, apple and fragments in his palm, his lips stretched into a straight line.
After staring for a while, he stuffed the things into his pocket, walked up the stairs, and returned to the attic, the dilapidated house that belonged to him.
He stood in front of the broken mirror and slowly took off his blood-stained and dirty clothes. His strong and flat body was reflected in the mirror - he was a man, but he had to wear women's clothes and disguise himself as a woman to survive.
The woman had ordered him to move into the house after she arrived. After his father's death, there was no place for him in the house. His goal had not yet been achieved, so he could only swallow his anger and move into the attic, a long-abandoned room.
The room was old and had been used as a warehouse. There wasn't even a complete piece of furniture to be found. He could only find a piece of wood as a bed and spread a thin cloth on it to sleep.
There were scars all over his body. He sat on the wooden bed, found some medicine in the cabinet and started bandaging it.
He had long been accustomed to pain, having been so in the past, and now this kind of torture was commonplace. He dealt with it in silence, and gradually gray rats surrounded his feet, wandering around and squeaking.
Sinderel lowered his head, stretched out his fingers and gently stroked them, then took out the apple from his pocket and placed it on the ground: "Eat it."
The mice jumped up and down around the apple, squeaking excitedly, and then began to share the apple.
Sinderel pursed his lips slightly, looked at his friends and said, "Are you happy? As long as you are happy."
"You ask about my injury? Yes, she did it."
"...Yes, today I was almost there, just a little bit away from slicing through her hypocritical face."
"Why didn't I do it? Because William was still in her hands, and the house was also in her hands. I couldn't take any risks... I didn't want to dirty my dagger... Yes, I hadn't done what I promised that person yet, and I hadn't seen the angel yet."
Those were the few friends that Sinderel had, a group of mice, and in addition there was a horse and some livestock raised at home. They were all companions he could confide in.
He was born alone, and in the past he could only keep animals as companions when he lived in the dark. The ones who accompanied him the longest were the rats that roamed in the culverts.
After a long time, he was able to distinguish their language by the frequency and pitch of their calls.
Later, in order to survive, he gradually learned the language of other animals, not just mice.
Animals are the purest, and he would rather communicate only with them.
Seeing their happy faces, Xindrel's mood calmed down a little, but soon, this brief relief was replaced by a thick haze.
"Tell me, has that old thing on the corner of the alley rotted away?"
He lowered his head so low that his entire face was hidden in the darkness.
"Please get rid of it quickly. I've been smelling a foul odor lately. If it's left unattended for too long, someone will find it."
The palm of the handkerchief was stained red.
That's that woman's stuff.
He pulled out a basket from under the bed, and the basket was filled with strange objects, even hair.
They were all women's things—ever since he was tortured for the first time, he began collecting everything related to women.
Each of these is proof of the torture inflicted by women time and time again, so many that they are almost countless.
As soon as he threw the handkerchief in, a faint fragrance wafted through his nostrils.
At that moment, Sinderel's movements suddenly stopped.
It was an extremely unfamiliar smell, but he was sure that the fragrance came from the handkerchief.
It was exactly the same fragrance as it was then, as if it was an illusion.
He returned all the humiliation to the woman, and strangely, the woman didn't kick him away or hit him.
He looked up and met the woman's eyes.
There was a faint fragrance lingering in his nose, as clean as water, mixed with the strong aroma, which he had never noticed in the past.
There was no trace of blame or disgust in those purple eyes. He thought it was an illusion - because he actually saw a bit of relief.
That's why he never saw such emotions in a woman's eyes.
According to common sense, the next step should be to continue the torture, or pick up the whip and whip her again, so that he can kill the woman with the fragments in his palm.
Surprised, even the strength in his mouth loosened.
But that is absolutely an illusion.
The mouse continued to squeak.
Sinderel listened quietly, and sure enough, the result was just as he had guessed.
"Friends," he said calmly, his fingers still lightly touching the mouse's fur, "it's time for you to act."
"...No, I won't kill her. That would be pointless." He thought of the woman's last words. "Just teach her a lesson."
That's all.
*
It wasn't until Sinderel left that Opesa relaxed.
The pain in her fingers hit her instantly, and she covered her hand and whimpered, tears almost streaming down her face. It hurt, it hurt so much!
A circle of bite marks appeared on her hard-earned slender jade fingers, bloody and bloody, almost deep enough to see the bones. That little bastard was really cruel. He must have been thinking of revenge and that's why he bit her so hard.
Although it hurt, she finally stopped feeling guilty and just considered it as a tit-for-tat. After all, if she humiliated the other person so much, who knows what kind of outrageous thing he might do.
Moreover, the conversation she later talked about made her even more certain: telling half-truths would not be punished by the system.
Her words were partly out of concern, and partly out of a desire to avoid violating the system's rules. She wanted Sinderel to realize his current situation, and to wake up as soon as possible. If Sinderel wanted to leave his family, she could exploit a bug to prevent him from suffering the tragic fate of receiving the urn.
After all, the male and female protagonists must be attracted to each other. As long as there is a chance to match them up, they will definitely meet because of the laws of the world. As long as they can meet, the subsequent development depends entirely on them.
Fortunately, the attempt was successful, which gave Opesha a glimmer of hope.
But only a little.
She didn't know much about this world, and she had only read the beginning of the novel. She didn't even know which country the story was set in.
She must find a way to understand the world first, and the best way to understand the situation is to start from herself.
She was a transmigrated soul, and her brain had no memory of the original owner at all, so she could only find clues from the original owner's belongings.
Thinking that her life was more important, Opesa forgot the pain in her finger. She wanted to find a handkerchief to bandage it but couldn't find one. Then she remembered that she had just thrown her only handkerchief to Sinderel.
She had no choice but to start searching the room, looking for things related to the original owner and bandages.
Fortunately, the bandages were easy to find, so she tied it up hastily and continued to look through the items.
After searching around, Opesa didn't find any useful clues. The original owner didn't have the habit of keeping a diary, and the items displayed didn't reveal anything. She stomped her feet in grief and anger, and leaned against the wall in silence.
It's like that fucking feeling when you have a perfect answer but the test paper is blank.
She could only go outside to take a look. Coincidentally, she was very interested in this house. After all, it was a house in a novel.
This is probably the only benefit of traveling through time.
Opesa rubbed her hands, the corners of her mouth rising uncontrollably. She touched the copper handle with anticipation and opened the door carefully.
What will it look like?
Ten minutes later, the corners of her mouth drooped.
This is not the house where the protagonist lives. It is clearly a dilapidated wooden house, not even as good as a modern country villa.
The house is indeed big, but it is just big. If you ask her to mention its advantages, she can't think of a single one.
Not to mention the furniture that had been used for who knows how long and had paint peeling off on all sides. It could barely be described as having a rustic, old-fashioned style. The broken glass windows were even covered with just a few pieces of newspaper. They were riddled with holes after being beaten by wind and rain and could not block any wind at all.
The whole house exudes misery.
Apart from the decorations on the original structure of the house, the places where decorations and antiques should be displayed are all empty, making the whole house look barren and a bit top-heavy.
Opesa curled her lips and walked to the door in frustration, wanting to see the manor taken care of by the protagonist. As soon as her left foot stepped out of the door, a thin piece of paper flew in her face.
She peeled off the piece of paper and took a look. There was a long amount of money written on it, and a bunch of densely packed terms. Opesa didn't have the patience to read it, so she summarized it in four words: "Pay your debts."
She suddenly remembered the beginning of the novel that she had overlooked:
The original owner was a low-ranking noble, but her family fell into poverty and she married her current partner, burdened by family debt. However, her current partner still missed his late wife and planned to leave everything in the manor to the protagonist, rather than her wife. Her enthusiasm was dampened, and she was completely disappointed in love. Later, her current partner died unexpectedly while on business, leaving her with a considerable amount of liquidated damages.
The original owner's family turned a blind eye to her plight and showed no interest in helping. She then became self-pitying and vented her anger on the protagonist, whom she considered too perfect and pure, while she herself was hopeless and miserable. She only wanted her daughters to marry into higher-class families and escape her current debt-ridden life.
Looking at the current state of the house, it seems likely that the decorations and antiques were used to pay off debts, but the piece of paper in hand still suggests a huge debt to be repaid.
The creditor, Pace Trading Company, was written at the end of the paper, which clearly showed that it was the mess left behind by her deceased current husband.
Opesha smiled as she tore up the paper and crushed it hard under her feet.
She didn't travel through time at all, she was clearly here to overcome a tribulation.
Why is she forced to inherit the original owner's debts after traveling through time? She didn't use a single cent of it.
Moreover, looking at the amount, if calculated according to the exchange rate in the novel, it would be a huge debt that she could not repay in three lifetimes.
The next payment date was also written on the piece of paper. If she couldn't pay it back, she wouldn't have to wait for the protagonist to reach the top to take revenge, she could just say goodbye to this beautiful world.
The sky fell apart at the start, leaving Opesa speechless.
She went to her deceased husband's room and study and looked around. Although there was no useful information except for national history and world maps, the collection of books still shattered Opesa's three views -
This wasn't a library; it was a miniature collection of erotica. Those seemingly serious literary books were densely packed with blushing, heart-pounding, and indescribable things. She couldn't be said to be well-read, but she was certainly a seasoned bookworm. Faced with this pile of books, she felt like a child, her face burning with the thought of exploding just by glancing at them.
This is truly a restricted world...
She couldn't read any more. She quickly closed the book, frantically cooled herself down with the back of her hand, and then went back to sit on the sofa in the living room to catch her breath.
There was only one maid in the whole house. She came out of the kitchen and saw that she looked unhappy. She brought the cooked fish soup and placed it on the table: "Madam, please have some."
Opesa nodded repeatedly along her chest, "Thank you."
Seeing the maid froze for a moment, she realized that her actions had revealed her true identity. She quickly straightened her expression, slowly picked up the bowl and took a sip, praising, "Your cooking skills have always been the best."
The maid was a little confused by her constant changes. After all, this was her job, and her master didn't need to thank her. But her upbringing prevented her from asking about her master's affairs. She thought her master was troubled by debt again, so she lowered her head and tried to leave.
Opesa suddenly thought of something and called out to the maid: "Wait."
The maid turned around and said, "Madam, what else can I do for you?"
In fact, Opesa wanted to get some information out of the maid, but she swallowed it back and changed it to something else: "Where is Sinderel? Is she in the kitchen?"
The family definitely cannot afford servants in the current situation, but this maid is still able to serve at home. It is obvious that she has a deep connection with the original owner. If she talks too much, she will definitely be discovered. It is better to pay attention to Sinderel's situation first.
"Madam, Sinderel is mopping the floor." The maid cursed Sinderel fiercely. "That damned child! She let mice mess around in the kitchen again today. All the freshly bought vegetables have been gnawed by them! God forgive her for wasting food like this. She must get the Black Death to pay for it!"
Opesha pondered.
The protagonist is very introverted, but can communicate fluently with animals. None of his friends are human, they are all animals.
When she was little, she thought talking to animals was so cool, but now she’s really scared when she thinks about it.
That's a nest of rats, and the time background is still the 17th century when the Black Death was rampant. And they have to be the protagonists. If it were an ordinary person, he would have been reincarnated countless times.
Opesa fell silent again, staring at the fish soup in her hand, wondering if she should scratch her throat. This Cinderella was a vengeful person. If she deliberately sent rats infected with the Black Death to attack, even a saint would be punished.
She couldn't afford to let a child suffer. Opesa put down the fish soup and came up with an idea: "Give Cinderel a bowl and bring it to the door. Remember, make sure she drinks it." Afraid of another system warning, she chuckled, "I don't want anything bad to happen to my family. We're already unlucky enough."
This way, we can both care about Sinderel and force him to be dragged into the water. If we die together, we will die together. It is a good idea to kill two birds with one stone.
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