Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 86

Chapter 86: The Child from the Pay-to-Win Parenting Game (3)

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Dorian was indeed startled by him.

 

As Shui Que expected

 

He didn’t say a word.

 

Instead, he came closer to check if Shui Que had gotten hurt from the earlier bump.

 

He was probably so scared that he didn’t dare to breathe loudly, worried Shui Que might retaliate if he was injured.

 

Shui Que couldn’t help feeling a bit smug—his bad guy act was really reaching a masterful level.

 

Dorian gently patted his little brother’s head.

 

His platinum-blonde hair was soft and smooth.

 

There was probably a unique scent that only little boys had.

 

“…Goodnight,” Dorian said.

 

Shui Que couldn’t suppress the curve of his lips, and even his words were sticky with amusement: “Goodnight. I hope you don’t have any nightmares tonight.”

 

Maybe he’d dream of Shui Que slapping his face in the middle of the night and wake up too scared to fall back asleep.

 

Dorian: “……”

 

He took a book from the library, with a quill tucked into the chest pocket of his linen shirt.

 

Since they had already found the Holy Book, there was no need to stay in the library to read it.

 

Shui Que had the servant John carry him back to his bedroom.

 

The Holy Book was extremely obscure, composed of long, rambling epics about the Holy Spirit. Attached at the end were slightly newer pages of parchment, filled with various well-known hymns from the Kingdom of Tuva.

 

Further in, he couldn’t understand anything—it wasn’t written in the Tuva language.

 

Shui Que skimmed through, reading ten lines at a glance, but retained nothing.

 

But the action points had been consumed.

 

That was all that mattered.

 

He placed the Holy Book on the red pine cabinet beside his bed.

 

By now, it was already Grass Month—which, by Shui Que’s original understanding, was equivalent to May—the month when sheep and dairy cows were herded into the meadows by day.

 

The weather had grown warmer, yet he still needed a thick Alaskan wool blanket to sleep.

 

In fact, before he could go to bed, John had to carry in a wooden basin of hot water, soak his feet until they were warm, towel them dry, and then gently place his legs in position so Shui Que could pull the blanket up and prepare to sleep.

 

John blew out the white candle on the wall sconce.

 

“Goodnight, young master.”

 

He quietly exited the room.

 

Only personal valets, like John, were allowed to sleep in the small adjoining bedroom or even lay a bedroll by the master’s bed. Lower-ranking servants had to sleep in shared rooms in the castle’s cellar or attic.

 

Shui Que closed his eyes. He slept very obediently—lying flat on his back, gently holding the edge of the wool blanket in one hand.

 

He was about to fall asleep.

 

“Shui Que.”

 

The voice was low and hoarse, calling his name. But it seemed to come from a distant mountain ravine, distant and ethereal.

 

In the dead of night, when all was still, was the only time a player could talk to their child-raising character.

 

No response.

 

Guan He looked at Shui Que and muttered to his livestream viewers, “Is he already asleep?”

 

【It’s already ten at night. If he sleeps any later, he won’t grow tall.】

 

【The baby’s entered baby dreamland…】

 

【Old man, keep quiet. I’m enjoying my little bird’s baby-like sleep.】

 

【I wish I could sleep cuddled with Que-Que. I bet I’d be such a healthy mom who sleeps early and wakes up early if I did.】

 

Fortunately, System 77 issued an emergency reminder, and Shui Que was roused by the call.

 

Still groggy, he responded, “Who are you…?”

 

He had to stay in character—pretending he didn’t know the male lead’s identity.

 

In the game, the player of the Divine Child was considered the lowest-ranking god. On the continent of Alantia, where the Holy Spirit religion dominated, any belief outside of that was deemed heresy. Worse, if heresy was discovered, both the Holy Court and the royal family would publicly execute the apostates by burning them at the stake.

 

As a result, the player controlled a pitiful god with no followers. Lacking faith points, the god had no physical form and was almost completely unable to affect anything in the game—aside from being able to talk to their child-raising character at night, there was no other interaction.

 

Of course, the keyword was “almost,” because the cunning game developers had introduced Divine Power Packs.

 

No faith points? Still want divine power? Want to physically interact with your child-raising character?

 

For just 1,000 Interstellar Coins, you could obtain extra divine power, manifest a spiritual body at night, read bedtime picture books while hugging your character, and even have a chance to receive a goodnight kiss.

 

Guan He had already made up his mind—he wasn’t going to let the Divine Child game siphon off any more of his wages. Resolutely, he closed the Divine Power Pack pop-up window.

 

Given this world’s ruthless intolerance for heresy, Guan He chose to explain things differently.

 

He said, “Que, I’m your guardian spirit.”

 

According to Alantia’s folk legends, every child was born with a guardian spirit that protected them and helped them grow up healthy. This spirit would stay with them until adulthood—sometimes even until the age of twenty.

 

Only the extremely lucky could communicate with their guardian spirit.

 

Guan He’s explanation made sense—after all, players weren’t the literal parents of characters in the Alantia world, but their gameplay involved raising them, guiding their growth, protecting them from danger. These responsibilities closely mirrored that of a guardian spirit.

 

So, Divine Child players often joked that they were the ghost lingering behind their characters, playing bodyguard without pay—while also paying out of their own pocket.

 

Shui Que blinked slowly.

 

He knew of the guardian spirit myth, so he acted like an innocent child. “Really? You’re my guardian spirit? Then can you conjure me a cherry tart?”

 

At dinner, a few desserts were served, one of which was cherry tart. Unfortunately, each person only got one slice, but Shui Que had stolen Garrick’s and eaten two.

 

The crust had been sweet and crisp, and the cherries soaked in syrup—so delicious he’d wanted more.

 

Shui Que was feeling snacky again.

 

【Newbie Limited-Time Free Bonus: One Cherry Tart. Eating it increases the character’s mood value by +1】

 

Guan He was surprised. So the game did have free items.

 

【Why does it feel like the game system is spoiling Shui Que…】

 

【The system probably saw that this stingy streamer can’t afford microtransactions. Can’t let my Que-Que go hungry!】

 

[Streamer, I’m begging you. I’ve never begged anyone in my life, but I’m begging you to open the tipping feature in the livestream. After the platform’s cut, all tips will go toward buying cherry tarts for my baby.]

 

Guan He didn’t bother reading the barrage of random comments. He simply clicked “confirm.”

 

Shui Que pushed himself up from the bed using both hands, sitting upright with his back against a long cushion.

 

The sconces on the wall lit up with flickering flames. A piece of cherry tart suddenly appeared and gently landed on the wool blanket in front of him.

 

He gobbled it down in a few bites and even licked the crumbs off his fingertips.

 

[Character “Shui Que” Mood +1]


[Character Affection toward Player +10]


[Congratulations! You’ve unlocked affection levels. A character’s affection is one of the sources of divine power. Please work hard to increase affection and leave a good impression on the character.]

 

After finishing the cherry tart, Shui Que finally felt in the mood to listen to Guan He speak.

 

[Player, how would you like the character Shui Que to address you?]

 

It seemed they had reached the nickname input stage.

 

Since it was a nurturing game…

 

Guan He reacted instinctively.

 

He typed in: “Daddy.”

 

Isn’t that how these simulation games usually go? The player essentially takes on a parental role for the character.

 

If his own child were this adorable one day…

 

No.

 

Guan He quickly pushed the thought away.

 

He still disliked children. Playing a game like this was enough.

 

But he had only spaced out for a moment.

 

[Character Mood -1]

 

“That’s so weird…”


Shui Que pursed his lips and then asked softly,


“How can someone be named ‘Daddy’?”

 

Pervert.


Freaking pervert!

 

He cursed silently with gritted teeth.

 

His cheeks flushed pink from anger, yet he still forced a polite smile, his face so tender it looked like it could be pinched and water would come out.

 

[Character Mood -1]


[Character Affection toward Player -10]


[Character Affection toward Player -10]


[Current Character Mood: 2/10]


[Current Affection: -10]

 

Guan He panicked and asked, “Wait, can’t I change the name in this game?”

 

If the affection kept dropping like this, how was he supposed to keep playing?

 

But since he mentioned the game and changing names, the system automatically filtered his words.

 

All Shui Que could hear was the sound of wind whistling through the ironwood trees outside the blinds, mixed with vague, meaningless whispers.

 

Maliciously, Shui Que asked on purpose, “Daddy, why aren’t you saying anything?”

 

[Character Affection toward Player -10]

 

[Rename Card Bundle: For just 100 Interstellar Coins, players can change their name once. After purchase, this bundle will permanently be available in the store.]


[Purchase Available in: 10:59]


[Character Affection toward Player -10]


[Current Affection: -30]


[Purchase Available in: 10:55]

 

Shameless, exploitative game developers.

 

Faced with this nasty combo, Guan He gritted his teeth and had no choice but to pay up.

 

This time, he seriously typed in a single character: He.

 

“Ohhh…” Shui Que drawled, “So your name isn’t ‘Daddy’ after all.”

 

Pervert.


Male lead, disgusting pervert!

 

Shui Que had seen things. System 77 had previously given him a little booklet titled “A Young Boy’s Guide to Self-Protection.”

 

In short, any strange man who wanted him to call them “Daddy” or “Hubby” was definitely a pervert.

 

He seemed to have forgotten this was a nurturing game.

 

Guan He was completely wronged.

 

He just wanted to enjoy a little make-believe parental fantasy in the game.

 

He had assumed the game mechanics wouldn’t let the characters actually recognize inappropriate titles — that names were just meaningless strings of text.

 

But now it was clear that wasn’t the case.

 

And the 30 points of lost affection? Changing the name wouldn’t bring them back so easily.

 

Shui Que still looked visibly upset, clearly not fond of his “guardian spirit.”

 

Helpless, Guan He opened the in-game store.

 

Only the previously purchased Rename Card and Cherry Tart were available.

 

Six Interstellar Coins per tart.

 

The price of a cherry tart in the game was basically the same as buying a real egg tart in real life.

 

Greedy developers!

 

A fresh cherry tart landed in front of Shui Que.

 

[Character Mood +1]


[Character Affection toward Player +1]

 

Losing affection points was easy and fast, but gaining them back? They barely gave you anything.

 

Guan He used up the last bit of his action points, and when he tried to speak again, Shui Que could no longer hear him.

 

All he could do was watch as Shui Que, now full and sleepy, leaned his head and drifted off into slumber.

 

……….

 

At dawn, when the mountain stream valleys were still cloaked in mist, a deep bell tolled from the church tower of the estate.

 

On the continent of Alantia, summer days were divided into eighteen hours of daylight and six hours of night. This was the first hour of the day — dawn.

 

Most people rose at this time.

 

Smoke curled up from chimneys in the villages outside the castle. Cattle and sheep were herded toward the communal pastures.

 

Within the castle, servants and attendants cleaned out fireplaces, fetched water from the courtyard, and prepared hot water for the masters to wash.

 

Heavy curtains blocked the sunlight, and the bedroom remained dim.

 

Count Louis raised a finger to his lips, signaling the footman at the door to remain silent.

 

His youngest son was still sleeping.

 

The bedroom was always shrouded in curtains, making the air stale. Count Louis carefully pushed open the wooden shutters, leaving just a small slit uncovered at the edge of the curtain.

 

Too wide an opening would let the sunlight pour in.

 

Shui Que was a light sleeper. The moment Count Louis moved the window, he stirred awake. “Father…?”

 

Count Louis stepped forward and gently kissed his forehead: “Que, I’ll be out hunting after breakfast. Is there anything you’d like me to bring back? My sweet child, do you want an antlered deer? Or a wild hare?”

 

The king of Tuva had granted the Louis family the right to hunt. According to the Charter of the Forest, this meant the family was officially allowed to own a private woodland granted by the royal family.

 

In Count Louis’s domain, aside from the moat encircling the castle estate, all the surrounding highlands and villages, even the distant rolling mountains, were the family’s property.

 

Within these mountain forests, the lord was allowed to hunt deer and wild boar. In contrast, if the king had only granted a “free hunting ground,” the lord would only be allowed to hunt foxes, mice, and rabbits.

 

The venison served on the castle’s dining table came from hunts the lord led in their private forest.

 

Shui Que still remembered he’d been giving Count Louis the cold shoulder for days. Just because he agreed to bully Dorian last night didn’t mean he had reconciled with his father.

 

“I don’t want anything.” He brought up old grievances first thing in the morning, “No deer, no rabbits. I want Leon.”

 

Shui Que was stubborn: “You have to bring Leon back.”

 

Leon, his once-loyal personal servant, had died of a persistent fever from typhoid. Before summer arrived, he’d been taken out of the castle and buried at the foot of the mountain.

 

Count Louis stopped, words caught in his throat. He didn’t know how to make it up to his child and left the room with a helpless look.

 

……….

 

Count Louis’s hunting party returned triumphant.

 

Dorian dismounted, a hunting falcon perched on his strong forearm. Its gray beak was sharp, and its wings full and sleek — used to hunt small animals during the hunt.

 

Stable boys hurried over to help lead the horses back to the stables and begin feeding and care.

 

When the steward ordered the servants to tally the day’s game, someone cried out, “This bear—Blessing of the Holy Spirit—my lord, you are truly brave!”

 

A massive brown bear, tall as three men, lay slain on the ground. The attendants had spent great effort bringing it back.

 

Crimson blood spattered the packed dirt paths of the courtyard.

 

Count Louis laughed heartily and clapped the steward on the shoulder: “Old friend, it wasn’t me. He is the true warrior!”

 

He stepped aside so the steward could see a young man at the rear of the group who had remained silent the entire time.

 

He looked about twenty, wearing rough gray linen and barefoot. Several wounds peeked out from his torn shirt.

 

He was covered in dirt, dusty all over — obviously a vagabond.

 

His expression was calm, but his deep green eyes shone with a sharp glint.

 

Count Louis praised him: “A true warrior doesn’t need a crossbow or a bow and arrow — he dares wrestle a bear barehanded!”

 

More importantly, he had green eyes.


And was about the right age.

 

Count Louis made arrangements, “Old friend, take the young man to bathe and give him clean livery.”

 

The steward obeyed the lord’s orders.

 

“Que’s still asleep, isn’t he?” the Count asked.

 

Footman John replied, “Yes, Young Master Que said he wanted to go back to sleep.”

 

“Never eats breakfast,” Count Louis shook his head.
“John, after the new servant has been cleaned up, teach him the proper manners. Let him start by serving the young master as he washes.”

 

John paused, then realized the Count’s intentions.
“As you command, my lord.”

 

……..

 

John didn’t serve today.

 

Shui Que eyed the new servant with suspicion.

 

He knew why his father had brought this man — he looked a little like Leon.

 

Especially the eyes.

 

The window had been left open that morning. The wind blew the curtains apart.

 

Sunlight poured into the gloomy bedroom.

 

Shui Que raised his hand to shield his eyes and winced. His pale skin flushed red.

 

The new servant stepped forward and neatly drew the curtain closed, lowering his head respectfully, “Master.”

 

It seemed he was being assigned as the new personal servant.

 

Shui Que asked,


“What’s your name?”

 

The servant seemed unused to speaking. He answered slowly: “A wanderer. I have no name.”

 

Shui Que thought about it. Coming up with a new name was too much trouble, so he said, “Then you’ll be called Leon from now on.”

 

“Yes.” The new servant accepted his new name. Following what John had taught, he carefully carried a washbasin filled with warm water. On the basin’s extended rim were a goose feather towel, soap, a box of powdered myrrh toothpaste, and a toothbrush with a wooden handle and horsehair bristles.

 

“Please allow Leon to assist you with your morning routine.”

 

A water bucket was placed at his feet.

 

Shui Que brushed his teeth and spat into the bucket.

 

Leon used a damp towel to wipe his face, though his movements occasionally paused with unfamiliar hesitation.

 

Shui Que puffed out his cheeks, then suddenly his expression changed — he spat something out.

 

Leon opened his palm. It was a small tooth — the young master had just lost it.

 

Garrick barged in impatiently. He had come to check on Shui Que and hurry him for a meal.

 

He didn’t even bother knocking—just strode right in like it was his own room.

 

Shui Que shot him a glare. “Get out.”

 

Garrick hadn’t even opened his mouth before being met with this dismissal. He frowned in displeasure.

“The door was open. Why shouldn’t I come in?”

 

“And is this how the young master of the Louis family is supposed to speak to his elder brother?”

 

Shui Que bristled, ready to argue with him.

 

But the moment he opened his mouth, he remembered his teeth.

 

He quickly, awkwardly clamped a hand over his mouth.

 

Could it be… because he had eaten two cherry tarts last night and forgotten to brush his teeth again?

 

Covering his face, Shui Que peeked out with just his eyes, blinking nervously.

 

Garrick stared at him in surprise. “What’s wrong with you?”

 

The tooth next to Shui Que’s upper front tooth was missing—and currently in Leon’s possession.

 

Garrick: “Haven’t you already passed your baby tooth stage?”

 

Even now, he still had the mood to tease Shui Que: “Hurry up and put that tooth under your pillow. The tooth fairy will come tonight and take it away.”

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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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