Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 44

Chapter 44: The Blind Widower in the Infinite Game (11)

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【Why can’t the livestream share smells! I want to sniff baby’s sweet scent too!】

 

【I’m sniffing! I’m sniffing! How can there be a baby like you? Born to be kissed by Mommy! I’m going to eat you up! Smooch you flat! Ehehehehehehehe】

 

【I’m dying laughing—these high school boys are totally entranced by our little Bodhisattva】

 

【Do you guys even remember why you’re here?】

 

Ah Chun suddenly smacked the buzz-cut boy on the head, his dark skin unable to hide the flush on his face. “What the hell kind of questions are those?!”

 

Most of the young people on Thousand Smoke Island had never left. Their lives were closed-off and monotonous—sunrises and sunsets by the sea, English cassette tapes that always got stuck in class, and pocket money that only came around when the fishing boats brought in a good catch. With all that, it was hard for them to imagine why Yuan Zhou would go all the way to the capital for school—or how he could come back with a boyfriend, swept up in that big-city trend of dating freely.

 

Their idea of the future was simple: study, get a high school diploma—which probably wouldn’t do much good anyway—and then settle into the rhythm of island life, blood tied to sea and shore. As children of the ocean, they were destined to become fishermen like their parents before them.

 

Maybe one day they’d fall for a girl their age and naturally start a family together.

 

So they couldn’t understand why someone as smart as Yuan Zhou would choose to be with a guy.

 

Guys were all rough and dark-skinned, smelling like sweat after fishing…

 

Weren’t they?

 

“I didn’t put on any perfume.” The pale-faced boy sitting on the stone stool unconsciously shifted backward.

 

Surrounded by these brawny high schoolers, he looked completely out of place, like he didn’t belong.

 

All he could see were unfamiliar shadows.

 

Someone must’ve been secretly trying out pipe tobacco after class—the air carried not only the faint scent of their uniform’s soap but also a smoky undertone.

 

Shui Que had a strong sensitivity to unpleasant smells.

 

He didn’t understand why someone would ask about perfume. He had no sense of his own scent and could only assure them he didn’t smell bad.

 

After all, coming from a sterilized lab environment, Shui Que had developed a mild case of OCD. He was very clean, washing thoroughly every night—his whole body was fresh, with no odor at all.

 

Now that he was in a different world and the ABO rules no longer applied, he could be certain he had no pheromones.

 

Maybe the sulfur soap Yuan Yu gave him had some added fragrance?

 

He murmured to himself.

 

“Oh… no perfume.” The buzz-cut boy nodded, though it wasn’t clear if he actually believed him.

 

Suddenly, Ah Chun asked, “How old are you?”

 

Shui Que didn’t understand why they were interrogating him with all these irrelevant questions. Was this how the police questioned suspects?

 

Still, he answered truthfully.

 

“Oh, oh, then you’re a year older than us.” Someone chimed in, “Brother Yuan Zhou’s already twenty-five. That’s kind of a big age gap. Older people tend to be boring, don’t they?”

 

“Yeah, I think so too. Brother Yuan Zhou seems way too serious, doesn’t really joke around.”

 

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to date someone younger?”

 

They all chattered at once.

 

Then they pestered Shui Que with more random questions—what his favorite color was, if he was a picky eater, whether he planned to look for a new boyfriend…

 

Shui Que was dizzy from their scatterbrained questions.

 

Suddenly, a loud voice shouted from the entrance—

 

“What are you guys doing?!”

 

It was Guan Yizhou?

 

Shui Que looked up.

 

The boy was drenched in sweat, pushing through the crowd. “Didn’t you promise to watch the lion dance with me?”

 

His opening act had ended, props had been put away, and he’d searched everywhere for Shui Que. When he asked Yuan Yu, he was told Shui Que had gone up the mountain with friends?

 

He hadn’t even told him he wouldn’t be coming, after making such a big effort just moments ago.

 

The old priest, overhearing their conversation nearby, immediately turned pale and instructed Guan Yizhou to hurry up to the mountain shrine and check—outsiders couldn’t be allowed to break the rules and enter.

 

Guan Yizhou pedaled his bicycle all the way there.

 

Shui Que felt guilty and kept silent.

 

“Where are your friends?” Guan Yizhou frowned, glancing at the crowd. “Didn’t the priest tell you to patrol? Why are you all just standing around the entrance?”

 

Ah Chun stammered, “But Shui Que said no one snuck into the shrine… and he wasn’t acting as a lookout either…”

 

The moment Guan Yizhou saw the bright red ears on these guys, he knew exactly what kind of nonsense had clouded their heads.

 

“Are your brains waterlogged or what?”

 

Only after getting scolded did the group of high school boys snap out of it. Shoving and pushing each other, they rushed into the main hall to catch the intruder.

 

“Brother Yizhou, hey, save us a spot for the soccer match later, yeah?”

 

Guan Yizhou grabbed Shui Que and walked off without looking back. “Get lost.”

 

Shui Que had already gotten what he came for in terms of plot progression. He stumbled along behind Guan Yizhou, complaining that he walked too slowly. Guan Yizhou didn’t argue—he simply picked him up.

 

Shui Que was startled and instinctively clung to his neck. “Where are we going?”

 

Was he going to be interrogated like some kind of spy?

 

Guan Yizhou carried him in the classic “princess carry” he’d seen in dramas—one arm around the waist, the other under the knees. Shui Que felt impossibly soft, like he didn’t have any bones at all. Guan Yizhou pressed his lips together, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

 

The bicycle was parked just outside the shrine. He set Shui Que down on the back seat, kicked the kickstand, and straddled the saddle.

 

“I’ve got to play in the soccer match. If we don’t hurry, I’ll miss it,” Guan Yizhou said. “Hold on tight. I’m taking a shortcut down the mountain.”

 

The wind whooshed past them as they bounced downhill on the rough path.

 

Shui Que was jolted by the ride and tightened his grip around Guan Yizhou’s waist. He mumbled, “Hey… I won’t get punished for sneaking into the shrine, right?”

 

“Oh, definitely.” Guan Yizhou had no intention of telling the priest the truth about Shui Que going inside, but he still decided to scare him a bit. “That’s why I’m arresting you. Gotta keep an eye on you. Your friends aren’t getting away either.”

 

In reality, the worst that could happen was a scolding from the furious old priest.

 

What more could they do? At most, they’d be sent back where they came from.

 

As for Shui Que, Guan Yizhou just needed to promise the priest that he’d keep an eye on him in the future.

 

What did they expect? That he’d turn this into a full-on spy drama and start interrogating him for real?

 

Suddenly, Guan Yizhou remembered something, and his ears turned red.

 

Ever since he woke up late at night in the dorm that one time, he kept replaying the image of those plump lips in his mind.

 

Every morning he woke up feeling like he’d sprinted ten kilometers in his sleep. His bedsheets were always a mess. He’d never sweat that much in his sleep before.

 

He couldn’t recall the exact details of the dream, but he remembered enough to know it was obscene—like some depraved pervert, his tongue tangling obsessively with someone else’s.

 

And then there was that unnaturally pale waist, trembling midair, thighs wrapped around his hips, the soft flesh quivering with every jolt.

 

His own sweat had dripped from his neck onto the other’s fair chest.

 

He’d been waking up like that for days now. The clothesline outside was full of hastily washed boxer briefs.

 

He figured he was done for.

 

The mountain path was terrible—bumpy and uneven. Shui Que got nervous and clung even tighter to his waist.

 

Guan Yizhou’s core muscles tensed. The heat of their contact felt like it was igniting something in him.

 

He rode all the way to the soccer field.

 

“Don’t wander off. If I win, I’ll take you around the stalls,” he said, kicking the kickstand and parking the bike. His throat was dry. “I… have something to tell you tonight.”

 

Shui Que felt like his butt had been split into four by the time they got off the bike.

 

“Your skills are awful…” He grumbled. Guan Yizhou couldn’t even dodge the rocks—every bump felt like a mini-earthquake. If Shui Que could see, he’d have gladly taken over.

 

Guan Yizhou’s face flushed. “How would you know if you’ve never tried it?”

 

He was still a virgin who hadn’t even held anyone’s hand—of course his skills weren’t great.

 

But Shui Que was all delicate and fussy… He should ask Ah Chun later if his older brother could get him some info.

 

Then, he suddenly remembered something and asked, with an obviously jealous tone, “Were Brother Yuan Zhou’s skills better than mine?”

 

Shui Que and he spoke in a two completely different topics.

 

What was this talk about trying it out? Wasn’t he the one who just sat on the back seat?

 

His face scrunched up in displeasure, and he mumbled, “Anyway, better than yours.”

 

Guan Yizhou was so provoked by this that all his youthful pride flared up and focused entirely on this ridiculous competition.

 

“Hey, Yizhou! Where have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you. Hurry up and get ready! The match is starting!” A teammate called from the field.

 

Guan Yizhou didn’t have time to argue anymore. He turned and shouted, “Coming!”

 

He brought Shui Que to the shaded viewing area near the soccer field. “Wait here for me. I’m definitely winning. Then I’ll take you out to eat.”

 

The festival had all kinds of little stalls set up across the island, selling every kind of thing.

 

“Oh…” Shui Que didn’t know the area at all, and he couldn’t see, so even if he wanted to walk away, he had no idea where to go. He could only sit quietly and wait.

 

Was he some kind of lucky charm?

 

Saying stuff like “wait here and I’ll definitely win”…

 

Bored out of his mind, Shui Que sat on a small bench and fiddled with his fingers.

 

There was a thick patch of tree shade above him, so the burning sunlight didn’t reach where he sat.

 

All around him were the cheers of spectators at the soccer field—loud and excited. Most of the townspeople crowded close to get a better view. To them, the sunlight didn’t matter at all. The spot under the tree where Shui Que sat had become an empty pocket of space.

 

Suddenly, a ball came flying down and smacked him on the head before rolling to a stop at his feet.

 

Confused, Shui Que picked it up.

 

It didn’t hurt. It was a ball woven from bamboo strips. He shook it—it was hollow inside.

 

Someone jumped down from a cart and came over to apologize. “Sorry, so sorry—I thought you were a girl, so I tossed it to you.”

 

Shen Xiaomei ran over right behind him. “Uncle, what’s wrong with you? Brother Shui Que has such obviously short hair.”

 

Her uncle scratched his head sheepishly. “His head was down, and he looked all fair-skinned and clean. I thought he was some unfamiliar short-haired girl from town.”

 

Shen Xiaomei also apologized. “Sorry, Brother Shui Que. We hit the wrong person.”

 

He shook his head and held the bamboo ball in his hands. “What’s this for?”

 

Shen Xiaomei explained, “It’s for choosing the bride each year. My uncle helps out at the shrine, and this year he’s in charge of it. Every year, the shrine randomly tosses ten of these hollow bamboo balls to ten adult women on the island. If you open it and find a tassel inside, then you’ve been chosen as the bride for Lord Wubao and must be sent out to sea on a small boat at dusk.”

 

Shui Que asked, “Why send her to Lord Wubao?”

 

Shen Xiaomei giggled behind her hand. “It’s just a tradition. It shows respect to Lord Wubao by sending him the most beautiful girl on the island.”

 

“Oh, you probably don’t know since you’ve only been on the island a short while. Lord Wubao is the sea god of this region. Hundreds of years ago, fishing boats often went out and never returned. The catch was always poor. They said it was because Lord Wubao was angry. So this tradition started—sending a girl out to sea every year.”

 

“It sounds superstitious and ignorant, right? Even though the accidents decreased afterward, most of the girls sent out to sea never came back.” Shen Xiaomei’s voice grew a bit heavy as she recounted the history. “I think it’s because they hadn’t built a lighthouse back then. The boats returning at night couldn’t see where they were going and ran aground. All that stuff about Lord Wubao’s anger—it’s just old superstition.”

 

“But it’s all fine now. My grandma said things changed about fifty years ago. She said it was like Lord Wubao became a different god — every year, the bride who used to be sent out by boat would now be pushed back by the waves.”

Seeing that Shui Que was listening intently, Shen Xue continued,


”Also, we built the lighthouse. The shrine says the lighthouse helps calm Lord Wubao’s anger. As long as the lighthouse is functioning properly, every fisherman who goes out to sea at night can return safely.”

 

As she spoke, she suddenly paused, recalling something. “Speaking of which, the village’s generator broke down before. That night… just so happened that Brother Yuan Zhou was out at sea…”

 

“No wonder they later equipped the lighthouse with a separate diesel generator… Could Lord Wubao really exist?” As the words left her mouth, she realized she was speaking out of turn and immediately fell silent.

 

Bringing up something like that on such a joyful day…

 

She inwardly cursed herself.

 

Shen Xue took the bamboo ball that Shui Que handed over, pretending to be relaxed, and steered the conversation elsewhere: “Since every year the bride gets pulled back anyway, they eventually tied thick hemp ropes to the small boats. After sending them out a short way, people on shore would pull them right back. This ritual is basically just for show now… Might as well open it up and take a look—”

 

She froze completely.

 

The bamboo slats at the top were easy to peel open. Inside the hollow bamboo ball lay a vivid red tassel, quietly resting.

 

[Main Quest: National Maritime University, Folklore Public Course – “Inheritance and Development of Island Folk Culture: A Case Study of Thousand Smoke Island,” Lesson 2: The Bride on the Boat. Any one player must experience the Small Boat Bride ritual (0/1)]

 

Shui Que didn’t understand what had just happened.

 

Shen Xue immediately ran to her uncle with Shui Que and the bamboo ball in hand. “Uncle, look at this! What do we do now? Should Brother Shui Que be this year’s Little Boat Bride?”

 

Her uncle was taken aback as well. “This… I’ll go ask the old priest for guidance.”

 

＊

 

A few hours later, Shui Que stood by the sea, utterly bewildered.

 

The old priest, dressed like an ancient shaman, lifted his heavy eyelids. His pupils were clouded and murky.

 

“Rules are rules…” he murmured to himself. His eyes, aged and white with time, stared blankly. “Since it landed on you, that’s the divine will of Lord Wubao.”

 

“No matter what, from this point on, you are one of Thousand Smoke Island’s people.”

 

Shui Que could hear the heavy sound of waves. A bit further up the shore, noisy chatter rose from both sides.

 

He could see the dark silhouettes of a dense crowd gathered at the harbor. He couldn’t tell whether his teammates were among them, whether they had been captured, or if they’d noticed the refreshed main quest earlier.

 

The old priest shuffled forward with great effort, chanting long-winded blessings under his breath.

 

Shui Que was dressed in traditional bridal attire. Because no one had anticipated a male being chosen, the ceremonial outfit hadn’t been altered in time. Luckily, Shui Que’s frame was small enough to fit, though the trailing hem only reached just above his ankles.

 

Someone placed a string of intricate beads around his neck. Small jade pieces were threaded into thin cords, looping over his hair and dangling onto his forehead.

 

His eye corners had even been dusted with red powder.

 

He looked like a beautifully adorned offering, about to be presented to the so-called Sea God.

 

Yuan Yu frowned slightly but couldn’t defy the old priest’s orders. Seeing that Shui Que seemed afraid, he said gently, “I’ll pull the boat back right away.”

 

It was the bride’s family’s duty to hold the thick rope tied to the small boat at all times—and to pull the boat back at the end of the ritual.

 

He supported Shui Que so he could steadily step onto the wooden boat.

 

Then, some kind of beans or flower petals were tossed down from above, falling to both sides of the little boat.

 

The wind picked up, and the sea grew dark as ink.

The old priest’s blessings droned on and on, echoing into the air.

 

The once-clear sky darkened in a blink. Clouds rolled in like thunder. Shui Que suddenly felt a chill all over. Though the boat hadn’t touched the water yet, he felt as if he were already submerged in the deep sea.

 

“Yuan Yu…” He instinctively reached for Yuan Yu’s arm.

 

“Yes” Yuan Yu replied: “I’m here.”

 

“Launch—!” the old priest finally finished his blessings, as if it had taken every last bit of his strength. His whole body drooped even more, completely drained of energy.

 

The small boat set off into the sea.

 

Shui Que’s hand let go and grasped the side of the wooden boat instead as it slowly drifted toward deeper waters.

 

Beneath the ocean, the ancient blessings stirred the sleeping tentacles awake.

 

Just like ink spreading in clear water, the nearby sea turned dark and turbulent, boiling with black waves.

 

Ever since it had awakened fifty years ago and wandered into this sea, it had, for some reason, chosen to eliminate its own kind and settle in this region.

 

It was in a foul mood today.

 

Because every year around this time, someone onshore would sing a chant—words that disturbed its rest.

 

The chant kept repeating “Wubao,” and it was never quite sure whether that was the name the humans gave it, or if they used it to refer to its entire kind.

 

This day every year was always a torment.

 

They would call it into shallow waters…

 

Then send out a leaf-sized little vessel, far smaller than its tentacle. A person sat on it, always crying terribly.

 

Perhaps someone exiled by fellow humans? It didn’t understand why the humans banished one of their own every year.

 

It wasn’t a social creature.

 

It couldn’t grasp such behavior.

 

But every year, it would give the ocean a slap, pushing the crying one on the little leaf back to shore, just to shut them up.

 

This year would be no different.

 

A wave rolled in. The small boat rocked violently. The person onboard clung to the side, their upper body helplessly leaning out over the sea.

 

A pale face, completely drained of color. Red makeup lingered at the corners of his eyes.

 

It was his little mate.

 

So beautifully dressed.

 

Was he the one the islanders had banished this year?

 

Had they really given him up?

 

A giant tentacle silently rose to support the tiny boat, suction cups gripping the bottom of the hull to keep it stable.

 

If they no longer wanted him, then…

 

“Bo—bo—”


It let out a delighted sound. This time, Shui Que finally heard it clearly. It wasn’t in a dream, and it wasn’t a vague murmur—its pronunciation had even improved a bit.

 

It was calling out: “Baby.”

 

Shui Que’s entire body stiffened.

 

The thick rope tied to the back of the boat suddenly tightened—someone onshore had begun reeling him in.

 

Before anyone could even react—

 

With a loud splash, the small boat flipped over.

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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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