Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 39

Chapter 39: The Blind Widower in the Infinite Game (6)

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He should’ve skipped the meeting last night, just like Yuan Yu did.

 

Guan Yizhou regretted it deeply.

 

The small town’s youth association held a meeting every two weeks. In truth, it was just a group of unmarried young folks gathering at a simple wooden hut by the beach at night to discuss community life and youth work updates. Topics ranged from festival preparations to visiting the elderly or repairing homes on behalf of the village committee…

 

The youth association had started as a club initiative by the principal of the newly reformed middle school. The aim was to help students aged sixteen and above start engaging with public life and develop a sense of responsibility.

 

The members were both male and female, but due to traditional views about separation between the sexes on the island, the meetings were held in separate rooms. Later, one male and one female president would consolidate the reports and coordinate the work.

 

It wasn’t a large organization, and the presidency rotated. Coincidentally, it was Guan Yizhou and Shen Xiaomei (also called Shen Xue) who were serving this month.

 

The wooden walls had poor soundproofing, so they could hear Shen Xue’s loud voice clearly—excited, but also tinged with girlish shyness. She was saying that during the day, she’d met Yuan Zhou’s boyfriend…

 

Compared to the noisy chatter on the girls’ side, the boys’ room turned deathly quiet. Everyone’s expressions became stiff.

 

Boyfriend?

 

How could Sister Xiao Shen just blurt out something so inappropriate as if it were normal?

 

Guan Yizhou crumpled the tiny meeting notebook in his hand.

 

“Hey, Yizhou, you guys were talking in class today about meeting Yuan Zhou’s… that guy, right?” one of the boys asked, elbowing the guy next to him restlessly.

 

“So? Is he good-looking?” someone who hadn’t seen Shui Que yet peeked over curiously.

 

None of them seemed to realize how strange it was for a bunch of guys to be gossiping about whether another guy’s boyfriend was attractive.

 

One of Guan Yizhou’s childhood friends nodded with conviction. His skin, tanned dark from wind and rain by the sea, made his eyes look especially bright. “Good-looking! Honestly, it’s not even about looks… He’s got super pale skin, really small red lips, and he smelled really nice when he walked by…”

 

“Can’t you describe things better? Are you writing a grade school essay? No wonder your literature scores suck.”

 

“Sounds like you’re talking about some fox spirit from an old tale.”

 

“Then why are you asking me? I’m just telling the truth—ask Ah Chun if you don’t believe me!”

 

“Where’s Ah Chun?”

 

Only then did they realize someone was missing. The group looked around.

 

Someone shouted, “Well well, so that’s where you were hiding! Reading dirty books?”

 

They all rushed over to the corner where Ah Chun was crouched.

 

The magazine Ah Chun had been sneakily reading was forcibly opened in front of everyone.

 

The cover was garish, and the first two pages showed men and women kissing. Flipping further, there were men with other men—far too vulgar and obscene to look at.

 

“Ew—gross! Ah Chun, you’re hiding here looking at this crap? You’re not one of those, are you?”

 

The young islander named Ah Chun flushed red in the face and neck as he retorted loudly, “I was just curious about how Brother Yuan Zhou could be dating a guy, so I had my brother bring back a reference magazine from the city! It’s not like I like guys! Just thinking about kissing a guy makes me wanna puke!”

 

Someone chimed in, “Yeah, exactly—what’s so great about kissing a guy?”

 

“I really don’t get it.”

 

Not long after, Ah Chun muttered softly, “The people in that magazine weren’t even good-looking. Totally boring. But… Brother Yuan Zhou’s boyfriend looks like a celestial being or something, with those rosy red lips…”

 

Then someone suddenly asked, “So if he’s dating Brother Yuan Zhou… do they kiss?”

 

“……”

 

A group of boys, none of whom had any experience with dating, suddenly blushed for no reason, embarrassed and unsure of themselves.


Only two or three who had never seen Shui Que in person looked completely confused, unable to understand how the topic had shifted so quickly.


With a dark expression, Guan Yizhou stood up and yanked the magazine from the center of the table with a sharp swish. “Meeting! What kind of nonsense are we even discussing?”

 

“What did you just ask me?” a soft voice said. The volume wasn’t high, afraid it would be drowned out by the sound of the rain. The speaker even leaned in closer to him.


Amid the scent of rain soaking into the asphalt, a sudden sweet aroma cut in.


That part wasn’t wrong.


Shui Que really did… smell sweet.


When he slightly lifted his face and spoke near Guan Yizhou’s ear, his lips moved gently. His bottom lip was full, and the thin upper lip had a tiny, naturally subtle lip bead at the center—slightly redder than the rest, as if he were wearing lip balm.


Maybe… just maybe… they’d feel really nice to kiss.

 

Realizing what he was thinking, Guan Yizhou immediately looked away. To cover up his emotions, he raised his voice: “I said, are you sure you didn’t wear perfume?”

 

“Hmm…? No, I didn’t,” Shui Que replied, puzzled. He lifted his arm and sniffed himself.


Perfume usually had a strong scent—did he smell weird or something?

 

A cheerful voice called from behind, “Ah! It’s Brother Shui Que and Yizhou, right? Come in, quick! If the rain starts coming in sideways, you’ll get soaked!”


It was Shen Xue.

 

The moment Guan Yizhou remembered it was her who had suddenly brought up Shui Que during the meeting next door last night—causing their whole conversation to go off track—his head started to ache.

 

“Let’s go,” Shui Que said. Noticing the person next to him wasn’t moving, he tugged lightly at the sleeve of his shirt. “She’s being really warm and welcoming. Let’s go in and get out of the rain.”

 

On Shui Que’s head was still Guan Yizhou’s school uniform jacket.


Guan Yizhou had bought it in his first year of high school. He’d been growing so fast back then that he’d deliberately ordered it a size larger.


Now, draped over Shui Que, it looked like a giant bath towel.

 

“Oh,” Guan Yizhou replied.

 

He lifted the yellowing plastic door curtain. The air inside was noticeably warmer than outside.


Shen Xiaomei came down from the second floor again with two cups of hot tea.

 

“The festival’s almost here, and today’s Saturday. Shouldn’t you be practicing the lion dance at the shrine with Shen Jiaheng and the others?” Shen Xiaomei asked in confusion. “Why’d you come to this side of town?”

 

Shen Jiaheng was Guan Yizhou’s childhood friend—and Shen Xue’s cousin.

 

The question was directed at Guan Yizhou, and it had nothing to do with Shui Que.


Shui Que quietly blew on his tea before taking a cautious sip.
His tongue was delicate and sensitive—he was clearly worried about burning it, treating it like a treasure.


Fisherfolk were used to facing wind and rain. When rushing to set sail, they often couldn’t even tell if their rice was fully cooked. As long as tea wasn’t just boiled, they’d gulp it down without blinking.

 

Guan Yizhou downed the entire cup, tea dregs and all. But with how he drank, he couldn’t taste any of the leaves.
“Yuan Yu took a leave of absence. He doesn’t have time to practice. He hasn’t been coming lately.”


“We haven’t found a classmate to take his place yet, so we got halfway through practice today and decided to pause for now.”

 

“Ohhh, I see.” Shen Xue nodded in understanding. “He’s helping out on your uncle’s boat these days, right?”

 

The family connections on the island were tangled and crisscrossed. If you picked any two people and traced it back carefully, you’d almost always find some kind of distant relation.

 

Guan Yizhou glanced at Shui Que, refraining from saying more out of consideration for his presence. “Mm.”

 

Yuan Zhou had died, but the boat had drifted back near Thousand Smoke Island with the storm surge.


Although they had recovered the vessel, due to superstition, any boat involved in a fatal accident could never go back out to sea.


Originally, the small fishing boats used for household tasks were communal property owned by the town’s fishery cooperative. Each family rented one, and the monthly fish quota they had to hand over as rent was determined per person.


Now, all those boats had been called back by the cooperative and sent to the factory for disposal.

 

Yuan Yu was still young and a student—nowhere near qualified to sail solo. The cooperative would never approve his application for a household-use boat.


But someone in the family had to work, so now he could only help out on a relative’s boat and earn a daily wage.

 

*

 

He had taken off his fishing work clothes and removed the rubber gloves and boots.


Carrying a bundle of mackerel tied together with straw rope, he walked along the beach, leaving uneven slipper prints in the sand.


He remembered promising Shui Que before dawn prayers that he’d cook stir-fried sea duck.

 

His family didn’t raise chickens or ducks.


But the town’s farmer’s market had them.


He had gone earlier in the morning, during the market rush, and now most stalls were already closed.

 

“Uncle Li, this one,” Yuan Yu said, pointing at a duck that had already been slaughtered and plucked. “I’ll take half.”

 

“Alright, alright.” The stall owner swiftly tossed the sea duck onto a thick wooden chopping block, which was covered in knife marks and thicker than a grown man’s fist. With a couple of heavy chops, he split the duck in two. “Want me to cut it into pieces for you?”

 

Yuan Yu: “No need.”

 

The vendor placed it on a balance scale and adjusted the weight. “Two jin and three liang. You can take a look—comes out to ten yuan three, I’ll just take ten.”

 

“Okay.” Yuan Yu smoothed out the crumpled money from his pocket and handed it over.


The vendor wrapped the duck in a white bag, handing it over with one hand while collecting the money with the other. “Come again next time, alright?”

 

Yuan Yu: “Thanks. Wishing you good business.”

 

Just as the vendor was tucking the money into his waist pouch, he suddenly remembered something. “Hey, Yuan Yu, don’t blame this old man for being nosy, but your family…”

 

He called Yuan Yu back.


Because he’d gotten caught up chatting for a bit, Yuan Yu had to hurry home.


Any later, and the sun would set. Then the yard would be too dark, and Shui Que would be scared to shower.

 

That evening, Yuan Yu was unusually quiet.


Not that he was particularly talkative on normal days—he usually only responded when Shui Que talked to him first.


But tonight, he was even quieter than usual.

 

Shui Que was quite sensitive to emotions.


He could sense that Yuan Yu was in low spirits but had no idea why. Fortunately, a plate of beautifully cooked stir-fried sea duck sat in front of them. Shui Que easily picked up a piece with his chopsticks and reached over.


The sound of a bowl scraping across the wooden table stopped.


Shui Que’s hand lowered, and the duck landed precisely in the bowl that Yuan Yu had pushed toward him.

 

“Thanks,” the person across from him said.

 

Shui Que licked his lips. A light sheen of oil clung to his smiling lips. “You worked hard today, Yuan Yu.”

 

The boy shook his head, eyes half-lidded, staring at the meat in his bowl without replying.


He didn’t share what fish he had caught today either.

 

Shui Que blinked, puzzled. “Are you not happy today?”

 

“You…” Yuan Yu looked up. “Are you going back?”

 

“Back to the capital,” he added.

 

Though the light bulb in the living room wasn’t very bright, the room was cleaned regularly, with no cobwebs, so it was still fairly well-lit.


Shui Que’s eyes looked like brown glass beads—hard to read, blank and unfocused.

 

“No,” he replied, nervously biting the tip of his chopsticks. “Why would you think that?”

 

According to the background of his character, he had grown up in an orphanage in the capital. He had studied at a special school using braille. It just so happened that the National Maritime University had a few niche majors that accepted blind students, so once he reached adulthood and got into university, he moved out. Shui Que didn’t really know what had gone through his mind, but just one year into university, he had somehow pledged himself to an older classmate and followed him to Thousand Smoke Island.

 

It felt like something straight out of a drama—the kind of foolishly infatuated phase that made the audience want to yell at the screen….

 

When Yuan Yu heard him deny it, he felt a little better. His mood lifted, and his appetite returned. He took a few bites of rice and asked, “Then why were you walking with that group from the capital today?”

 

Thousand Smoke Island was a small place. Its tourism industry wasn’t well-developed, and there were barely any visitors throughout the year. The locals, who were particularly wary of outsiders, had noticed the group of students and teachers from the capital right away.

 

Shui Que answered honestly, “I know them. They really like Thousand Smoke Island—they’re here to study and visit. I thought I’d show them around a bit. Once they’re done, they’ll be leaving.”

 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

 

Yuan Yu: “Okay.”

 

He looked at Shui Que deeply.

 

His brother was dead.

 

Another family member gone.

 

He had to take good care of Shui Que. If he didn’t, Shui Que would leave too.

 

Tomorrow was Sunday.

 

Remembering the quest about finding a landmark, Shui Que decided to explore the nearby area.

 

For a fishing island, the most important place was probably… the fishing port?

 

While guessing, Shui Que asked, “Are you going out to sea tomorrow? I want to walk around the harbor.”

 

Yuan Yu was busy tidying up the dishes. At those words, he looked up, and his brown eyes seemed to light up with a childlike joy—like someone who had just been given candy. “Yeah.”

 

“I’m going,” he said.

 

*

 

Though Shui Que looked delicate, he wasn’t picky about living conditions. After getting used to the bed here, he slept soundly at night.

 

He didn’t feel very secure, so he always tugged the curtain cord down at night and pulled the drapes shut.

 

There was an oil lamp hanging behind the door.

 

From the floor, a dark shadow rose up, as if from nowhere. When it stood upright, its thick, root-like limbs cast shapes against the curtain fabric.

 

They emerged from the floor, and the room filled with the sound of ocean waves.

 

In the yard, the German Shepherd twitched its nose, sensing something strange—but in the next instant, it seemed lost in a fog, narrowed its eyes, and lay back down to sleep.

 

Outside, the moon hung high. For a moment, the full moon was hidden behind clouds, and in that dim moment, there came the sticky sound of something wet, limbs dragging across the floor.

 

A giant cephalopod silently emerged from the ground. Its body and head weren’t visible—only the tentacle-like limbs kept expanding, casting a shadow that nearly covered the entire room.

 

Perhaps realizing that growing any larger would push open the roof, it paused and shrank slightly after making a simple judgment.

 

The sound of the sea was so realistic it felt like someone sleeping on the shore during a high tide at night. The person in bed tossed and turned restlessly.

 

Each tentacle had hundreds of suction cups. They swarmed around the bed, one tentacle climbing onto the mattress and trailing watermarks across the mat.

 

Sweat beaded on Shui Que’s forehead. He wasn’t sleeping well and turned over again, now lying flat on his back.

 

His delicate brows furrowed, eyelids faintly trembling, like someone trapped in a nightmare—unable to wake.

 

Because of his constant movement, his shirt had ridden up around his waist. Under the dim oil lamp, the exposed skin gleamed pale in the air.

 

The tip of a tentacle, soft like a snail’s antenna, lightly touched his belly. The warmth from his body was like a sudden flame licking at it, making it shrink back from the burn.

 

But after a moment, seeing there was no reaction from the person in bed, it emerged again.

 

The sound of waves came with bubbling, gurgling noises.

 

Though it was still massive, the tentacle shyly curled in, knowing the human in bed was fragile. It gently, delicately, laid its front edge across the warm, soft belly.

 

Compared to adult human males, Shui Que wasn’t particularly tall—and next to the creature, he looked even smaller.

 

Its full form could expand to be larger than the most advanced ocean freighter. With just two limbs, it could drag such a ship into the deep sea and crush it.

 

Just to come see him, it had to frantically shrink its body to fit into something as small as this house, which was like a toy to it.

 

Worried that the exposed skin might catch a chill, the tip of the tentacle completely covered his stomach.

 

But it forgot that its limbs were far colder than room temperature, still damp and sticky.

 

Squelch, squelch.

 

Excited, the suction cups uncontrollably contracted, oozing mucus that bubbled and gurgled.

 

Cold.

 

Wet.

 

And itchy.

 

Though still asleep, the person in bed instinctively slapped the tentacle.

 

It had made him angry.

 

The tentacle that got slapped withdrew sadly.

 

Bo—bo—

 

The sound seemed to come from the far reaches of the universe, waves crashing mixed with chaotic, indistinct whispers.

 

It tried to say something, but the syllables it produced sounded only like bubbles popping from a fish’s mouth.

 

Bo—bo—

 

The gathered tentacles coiled around the bedside.

 

After a long time, the tide receded.

 

The wet traces on the floor of the room were also cleaned up, vanishing completely.

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Huge shoutout to @candycorns2 on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.

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