Chapter 121

Chapter 121

Sunlight streamed through a row of glass windows, casting a warm glow on the butter-yellow walls, making the entire room appear exceptionally bright and cozy.

Even the curtains were exquisitely crafted—a layer of light blue gauze with faint cloud patterns, underneath which lay thick curtains in a gradient of deep blue, adorned with nebula designs, as if countless stars had fallen into the sea.

The floor was covered in large, pristine white tiles, so spotless they almost didn’t dare tread on them. Against the wall to the left of the windows stood a long chaise lounge and a long sectional sofa, capable of seating several people. Even if guests came over, there would be plenty of room to lounge.

The wooden sofa was piled with plush cushions and throw pillows, looking incredibly inviting.

Harvey and Pa Bo exchanged glances, then removed their shoes and neatly placed them on the shoe rack by the door. They padded in barefoot, as if afraid of disturbing something.

When they sat down on the sofa hand in hand, sinking into its softness, they couldn’t help but let out a long sigh, as if sighing out a lifetime’s worth of exhaustion.

They gazed at the coffee table in front of them, the set of stools in the corner, and the built-in cabinets on the opposite wall, feeling as though not even their dream home could measure up to what lay before them.

The two lay on the sofa for a long time, nearly dozing off, when all at once, Pa Bo turned to look at Harvey, his eyes rimmed red. "Should we check out the other rooms?"

Spellbound by the living room, Harvey snapped back to reality at Pa Bo’s words, remembering that this was a three-bedroom home—there were other rooms he hadn’t even seen yet!

"Right, let’s go!" Harvey abruptly sat up and pulled Pa Bo along to explore the rest of the house.

Pa Bo had imagined "three rooms" literally, but in reality, the house had far more than that—three bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, two baths, and dual balconies. It was so vast Harvey didn’t know where to look first.

They decided to take them one by one, starting with the nearest.

The largest bedroom, adjacent to the living room, had an entire wall of cabinets and a spacious balcony. Looking down from it, a sea of verdant green lifted their spirits.

They noticed two metal rails on the balcony, along with clothes hangers—apparently a designated spot for drying laundry.

The room opposite the master bedroom also had a balcony, though slightly smaller, equipped with a large sink and a laundry counter. Above it were more metal rods for hanging clothes.

As for the room itself, aside from another wall of cabinets, it was empty, seemingly left for the owners to furnish as they pleased.

The room sandwiched between the master and smaller bedrooms was the bathroom, divided by a bamboo-weave divider into two sections—one for the toilet and the other for showering.

The smaller bedroom with the balcony seemed intended for a child, furnished with a bunk bed, two large wardrobes, and a spacious desk. Above the desk were three windows—one wide one in the middle, permanently sealed shut, flanked by two narrower ones that could be opened for ventilation while ensuring a child’s safety.

The remaining spaces included a kitchen outfitted with dual burners and a dining area with a large table and several chairs.

They examined each detail carefully, picturing themselves using each item, only to realize that their fantasies were so beautiful they felt so perfect it felt dreamlike.

"Let’s go register our marriage," Pa Bo said. The wedding could wait—they could register first, move their residency paperwork over, and once they found jobs, they’d stay forever.

Harvey was startled by Pa Bo’s words, wondering if he’d accidentally voiced his thoughts aloud. He had just proposed today, and they hadn’t even discussed wedding plans—yet here Pa Bo was, ready to tie the knot. Was joy really dropping in unannounced?

Seeing Harvey’s deer-in-headlights look, Pa Bo arched a brow. "What, you don’t want to?"

"N-no, of course I do! But why so sudden...?" Harvey’s heart hammered against his ribs under Pa Bo’s gaze. He shook his head, then nodded frantically, afraid that a delayed response might upset Pa Bo.

Pa Bo sighed inwardly at his blockhead. If it weren’t for him, someone else might have conned him out of his last penny and into indentured servitude. "What if I told you I’m only saying this because of this house? That I have ulterior motives?"

Harvey didn’t believe a word of it. Scratching his short hair, he grinned brightly. "That’s fine. If you want it, I’d give it to you even if we weren’t together."

Pa Bo narrowed his eyes, studying Harvey as if gauging just how "selfless" he could be. "Hmph. If I cared about that, I wouldn’t have agreed to be with you when you entered the competition. I just think this house needs someone to keep you in check—otherwise, who knows how many people would take advantage of you? Better I step in early before others fool you."

The thought of how he’d painstakingly taught Harvey to speak and behave properly, only for others to exploit those lessons, made Pa Bo grit his teeth in frustration.

Harvey knew he hadn’t been the sharpest before, obsessing over things that were never his and worrying Pa Bo with his actions. But now, outside that toxic environment, he could finally see clearly—what was genuine and what was fake. His formerly sluggish mind now felt oiled, spinning rapidly into motion.

In addition, during this period, he had read many books and met many people through training opportunities, so he naturally no longer cared about those who only knew how to take and exploit.

At this time, Harvey didn’t yet know the saying, "If I have no morals, no one can morally blackmail me," but he was indeed acting in this manner.

This was evident when Harvey returned home to transfer his household registration and was pestered by villagers demanding benefits.

"Ha ha ha, our family is moving to the King’s City soon!" The seven-year-old chubby boy waved his arms, boasting to his group of friends below.

"It’s not your family—it’s your uncle’s. He won first place, so that house is his," a little girl with braids retorted, unable to stand his smugness, and exposed his lie.

"Who does he think he is? He’s just our family’s slave, like pigs or cattle. Everything he has belongs to us—it’s what he owes us. If it weren’t for him, our family wouldn’t have been poor for so long," the chubby boy snapped, reaching out to tug the girl’s braid. He was about to become a King’s City resident, different from these hicks.

The girl was from another village, visiting relatives with her parents. She was treated like a treasure at home and couldn’t tolerate such disrespect. She snatched her braid back and shoved the chubby boy. "Your family is shameless! That uncle is our city’s champion, a hero—not what you said!"

The chubby boy, unsteady on his feet, stumbled backward from the push and landed hard on his chubby backside. Dazed, he couldn’t believe a girl had hit him!

"You stupid girl, how dare you push me!" Though his cushiony backside spared him much pain, he felt humiliated. With a yell, he copied his mother’s way, swinging his hand to slap her.

The girl, who wanted to be a knight and was two years older, wasn’t about to stand still. She dodged and dashed to her dad. If he knew someone had bullied her, he’d surely pay them back.

As for fighting back like a knight—she hadn’t learned that yet, only how to run fast.

"Dad, someone hit me!" Her shrill voice reached her father’s ears. He immediately cut off his chat with his father-in-law and rushed out to see who dared touch his precious girl.

Watching his son-in-law’s reaction, the old man took a slow drag of his cigarette before following. Was it really worth such urgency over a girl?

The girl’s father saw his daughter running toward him, sweaty and panicked, with the furious chubby boy chasing her. His cheerful expression darkened instantly.

He picked her up and glared coldly at the boy. "What do you think you’re doing?"

The chubby boy stared at the one-armed, "weak" man and snapped, "She hit me! I’m hitting her back!"

"That’s not true! He pulled my braid and called Harvey a pig belonging to their family. I got mad and pushed him," the girl pouted, hugging her dad’s neck in protest.

"You worthless brat, how dare you lie! Pah! He is our family’s no better than a slave—his life and death are ours to decide. Who are you to interfere?" The boy, clearly used to hearing such talk at home, spoke without hesitation, oblivious to the man’s rising fury.

"What did you call my daughter?" The man could ignore the brat’s insults, but dragging his daughter into it was unforgivable.

"Worthless! All girls are worthless—slaves meant to serve us..." The boy, accustomed to the low status of girls in his village, had no idea how much the world outside had changed.

The man laughed bitterly in anger. Handing his daughter to his approaching wife, he grabbed the boy by the collar and marched off to find his parents.

Though tempted to thrash the kid, he was an adult—bullying a child wasn’t right. But bullying the parents? That was perfectly fine.

Hanging in midair, the chubby boy’s face turned red as he kicked uselessly, his short legs unable to reach the man.

The girl’s mother, hearing the boy’s words, was equally furious. It reminded her of her own past—how girls here were never respected.

She remembered why she had married her husband: he’d offered enough money to sway her parents. Back then, they hadn’t cared that he’d sold his land to marry her, leaving them without income. They only cared about the benefits her marriage would bring.

Before the king rose to power, their lives had been full of hardship. Overworked and malnourished, she’d lost two pregnancies before bearing her daughter—and never had another child.

This child was their treasure, and the woman promised herself her daughter would never suffer what she had.

Yet during their hardest times, her family had never helped. She’d resolved to cut ties, but over the years, her parents had reached out saying they missed her, softening her heart. Maybe there was pride, too—once poor, now she lived better than them.

Now, such empty gestures seemed ridiculous. In person, they’d act kindly for gifts, but secretly—were they like this chubby boy, never truly valuing her?

She knew a little about Harvey’s situation, once baffled by his foolishness. But wasn’t she the same?

Suddenly, she didn’t want to hear her parents lament her brothers’ struggles, begging for help with promises of future support. People who’d sold her like goods would never truly care.

Once her husband finished "discussing" with the boy’s parents, they’d leave.

The girl’s father dragged the chubby boy to his house, tossed him onto a haystack by the wall, and began hammering on the door.