TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 78

Kingdom of Lilybell.

The usually cautious and sneaky Jade seemed completely unafraid of exposing his identity this time. Right in front of the stall owner, he pointed enthusiastically with his tail and hissed to Albin:

【Buy this one, this one, and that one!】

“Alright!” Albin agreed cheerfully.

This peculiar scene all started with a small incident earlier that morning.

While eating breakfast at a tavern, Jade was happily devouring his food under the cover of bowls and plates when he looked up — and locked eyes with a little girl staring straight at him.

“Snake… there’s a snake…” the girl tugged at her parent’s sleeve, pointing at their table.

Jade’s heart skipped a beat.

If they discovered he was a magical creature, that would be terrible!

He darted into Albin’s sleeve in a flash, while the others quickly prepared to cover for him.

But unexpectedly, the people around them, upon hearing there was a snake, became excited instead of frightened.

“A snake? Is it a pet? What does it look like?”

“I’ve got some duck meat here — wonder if Lord Snake would like it?”

Albin was utterly bewildered. Seeing his confusion, the locals explained:

“We worship the God of Healing here. Snakes are sacred creatures to us — like the white doves of the Sun Temple or the deathbirds of the Night Temple.”

Albin suddenly understood.

So the people here aren’t afraid of snakes at all!

He recalled that the Healing Temple’s emblem yesterday did look like a serpent-entwined staff.

Looking down at his sleeve, Albin whispered softly, “Jade, they actually seem to like you.”

Jade wriggled a little but still refused to come out.

The little girl noticed movement at Albin’s cuff and exclaimed excitedly, “The snake! I saw its tail!”

Everyone turned to look and began to admire it:

“What a lively little tail!”

“Seems like a baby snake.”

“So shy!”

Reluctantly, Jade slithered out, though he kept his eyes tightly shut so no one could see them.

At his grand debut, the crowd instantly broke into warm applause.

When the onlookers finally dispersed, Jade lifted his head proudly, his tail swaying with excitement and arrogance.

【See that? See that? Lord Jade is very popular!】

Moon, who always got chased off whenever he tried controlling his crows: …

Albin clapped for him. “That’s right! Jade is so cute — of course everyone likes you!”

Jade struck all sorts of poses, happily basking in the praise.

Albin said dreamily, “Then Jade can go shopping with me now! No more hiding in my pocket or the inn — yay!”

【Yay!】 Jade hissed happily. Though he wasn’t that interested in the human world, after traveling with Albin for so long, curiosity had started to grow.

Padma, however, poured a bucket of cold water over them. “They only like snakes, not magical creatures.”

Jade’s tail drooped instantly.

Albin also pouted, disappointed.

Padma reminded him, “Jade, can’t you turn into a human?”

Jade blinked in confusion, then realization hit him.

【Oh, right!】

Albin looked up in surprise. “Really?”

Jade scratched his head with his tail tip, trying to recall:

【But it’s been so long… I might’ve forgotten how to walk with human legs.】

Padma sighed, took off the black ribbon tying his low ponytail, and used it to cover Jade’s starry eyes.

“Forget it — this’ll do.”

And just like that, snake and boy both started cheering again.

Albin perched Jade on his shoulder, left behind his two brothers who were currently obsessed with crafting, and happily went out shopping in broad daylight with Jade in tow.

“I want to buy some gifts for Grandpa and Grandma,” Albin counted on his fingers. “Hmm, then I want to visit the temple — the dogs, the old man, and the priest… If only I could learn healing magic like them…”

Jade rubbed his cool head against Albin’s cheek and muttered, 【I want it too! I want it too!】

Albin scratched his chin. “Of course! Jade will get some too. Dad, and my brothers Padma and the others — they’ve been working on crafts lately, so we should bring back some fabric. Oh, and I’m running low on stationery — I wonder if they sell any here…”

During his errands the previous day, Albin had met quite a few locals. Gossip spread quickly in a small town like this — everyone already knew he was Dr. Star’s grandson. With Jade at his side, people were extra friendly, often selling things at half price or even gifting them outright.

By the time they were done, Albin had bought so much that if not for Jade’s storage belly, he couldn’t have carried it all.

Arms full of gifts, Albin walked toward the graveyard — only to see a lone figure standing there.

His face lit up. “Dad!”

Wow, this time Dad really came back so fast!

Albin ran toward him joyfully — but as he got closer, he realized something was wrong.

It hadn’t rained in the Kingdom of Lilybell for days, yet his father was drenched, and when Albin approached, the cold air around him made him shiver.

Zeman’s expression was one of deep pain, his eyes unfocused and dazed. His whole body looked like it might collapse at any moment.

Was it because of Grandpa and Grandma…?

“Dad, I’m here!” Albin quickly put down the gifts meant for his grandparents and hugged Zeman, channeling magic to drive away the cold — only to find his father’s body burning hot.

The warmth of his son’s voice and magic pulled Zeman’s mind back from a fog of anguish and struggle. Slowly, his gaze focused on Albin.

The warmth from the little boy melted the layer of frost around him bit by bit.

“Albin…” His voice was no longer as calm and clear as usual — it was weak, soft, and full of longing.

Then Zeman suddenly collapsed to the side, unconscious.

“Dad!” Albin cried out, trying desperately to support him — and when he saw his father’s flushed face, he finally understood.

His father had a fever!

—

When Zeman regained consciousness, the first thing that came into view was the shabby ceiling of the inn.

“Dad, you’re awake!” Albin, sitting at the bedside, leaned forward to check on him. He reached out and touched his father’s burning forehead, mumbling worriedly, “You’re still feverish…”

Seeing the worry on the boy’s face, Zeman propped himself up weakly against the pillow and said, “Sorry for making you worry.”

“It’s okay as long as Dad’s fine. You should eat something first! The priest from the Healing Temple said a fever means there’s a flame inside your body burning away the sickness—it’s not necessarily a bad thing. He already prepared the medicine, so you have to drink it later, okay?”

He remembered that he himself had taken that medicine when he was sick before—it worked well. Thankfully, this was the territory of the God of Healing. That was much more reliable than the barbershop bloodletting they did in Thorn City.

Zeman nodded faintly.

Albin opened a small clay pot, scooped up a spoonful, and blew gently to cool it down.

“When you’re sick, you have to eat something good! This stewed veal is the best dish in town—it’s really delicious! Dad, try it!”

Just like a caretaker tending to a child, Albin held the spoon up to Zeman’s lips and prompted him gently: “Ah—”

Zeman froze. The smell drifting from the spoon stirred something deep in his memory.

“Hmm? Dad, you don’t like it?”

Only when Albin’s puzzled voice reached him did Zeman shake his head softly and open his mouth.

The veal was tender and flavorful—the familiar taste blossomed on his tongue. It was the same dish his mother and the child in his dreams used to make for him on his birthday.

Perhaps it was the fever, but Zeman’s mind felt dull. Only after Albin had fed him several spoonfuls did he realize that his son was treating him like a little kid.

He made a weak attempt to protest, wanting to preserve at least a shred of fatherly dignity.

Albin puffed up his cheeks. “Dad doesn’t take care of himself, and that worries me! So this is your punishment!”

Faced with those worried red eyes, Zeman had no choice but to surrender—raising his hands in defeat and obediently finishing the meal with an almost unbelievable docility.

“Good job, Dad!”

Albin couldn’t help but laugh. Just as Zeman used to do to him, he reached out and ruffled his father’s hair, enjoying the rare feeling of their roles being reversed.

Zeman lowered his head helplessly, letting the boy pet him more easily.

Hearing Albin’s laughter, he felt his long-numb heart start to beat again.

After the meal, Zeman calmly drank the entire dose of medicine.

“Was it bitter?” Albin asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

Zeman had long since grown numb to that kind of bitterness. But when he saw Albin’s expectant expression, he remembered how the boy had once cried over the same taste. So, after a brief pause, he deliberately furrowed his brow and replied, “Mm… very bitter.”

“Ta-da!” Albin had come prepared—he proudly pulled out a few pieces of sweet honey-butter biscuits and cheerfully fed them to his father, gently smoothing the frown between his brows. “Now it’s not bitter anymore!”

As Zeman ate the biscuits, that familiar warmth filled his chest again. Every time he was near Albin, it felt as if his heart were soaking in warm water—slowly, gently melting.

After avenging his parents, all he had felt was searing pain and an unbearable emptiness.

That emptiness didn’t come from losing a purpose—it came from feeling that his very existence had no meaning.

He’d often thought so, but after learning that his parents had died because of him, it had been confirmed beyond doubt.

As a child, his talent had drawn greed and led to his parents’ deaths.

As an adopted son, he had burned the body of the foster father who raised him—the Pope himself.

As a believer, he had killed the god he once worshipped.

As a holy child, he had become a monster destined to destroy everything.

As a friend, he had caused Jacques to be gravely injured.

As a father, he had once killed the very child standing before him…

He had grown up surrounded by lies. He had overturned every pillar that made up his identity. The meaning of his existence—he had destroyed with his own hands.

He could no longer find a place where he belonged. He felt like a walking omen, bringing misfortune to everyone near him.

“Dad, what are you thinking about again?”

Albin had learned to recognize the look that came over his father’s face whenever he slipped into self-destructive thoughts. Seeing it again now, he immediately broke in, fierce and firm.

Zeman looked up—only for Albin to throw his arms around him, declaring solemnly, “You still have me! You have to keep living!”

That voice, pulsing with youthful heartbeat, carried warmth straight into his chest.

Zeman’s fingers trembled slightly.

Yes… he still had this child.

This child was all he had left.

Even if he thought he shouldn’t exist, this boy had given his life a reason to continue.

He murmured, “I’ll live—as your father.”

That was the only meaning his existence had left.

“Hmm?” Albin, still holding his neck, tilted his head up and studied his father’s expression. Something about it didn’t sit right.

After what had happened last time, Albin had grown much more cautious. He refused to let his father have any chance to abandon him again.

He tilted his head, thinking, then said seriously, “I’m happy to hear that, but even if you weren’t my dad, you should still live, you know? Or are you planning to leave me and go off to die again, like before?”

His gaze burned into Zeman’s.

Zeman said nothing—but his silence was as good as an admission.

“No way! Absolutely not! Dad has so many reasons to live!”

“What reasons?” Zeman asked quietly.

Albin froze. He remembered how Zeman had once said he had no reason to exist, and back then, he’d just clung to him and begged him to live as his father, to stop trying to die. But… hadn’t Dad thought of any other reasons?

“You big dummy!” Albin huffed. “Dad can use magic! That alone means you can do all sorts of meaningful things! You can even turn into a dragon—that’s super cool and amazing! Dad, you have to think of examples! You can’t just wait for other people to tell you!”

He didn’t really understand all those lofty words about “the meaning of life,” but even a grade-schooler knew how to come up with examples and sentences.

“So dumb, so dumb, so dumb!” Albin poked his father’s forehead. “It’s okay if you can’t think of an answer right away—you can take your time. But you can’t ever give up!”

Even if you don’t know the right answer, you can still guess! You can’t just leave it blank!

Zeman stared at him, speechless, as if a little lamb were bouncing all over his heart—trying desperately to revive him.

“Hmm… I guess searching for the meaning of life could be a kind of meaning, too!” Albin said brightly.

To look for your own reason to live…?

Everything from his past twenty-four years had already crumbled—what was there left to do?

Zeman fell silent, dazed.

“Grandpa and Grandma would want you to live too,” Albin said, smiling at him. “No matter what happens, I’ll be with you, Dad!”

Zeman gazed at his radiant smile. Though the medicine had already begun to take effect and the fever’s heat was fading, his heart still felt as though it were being gently cradled in warmth by the boy before him.

He didn’t really have any other thoughts about how to live—but he still answered softly.

If this was the kind of father Albin wanted, he would do his best to try.

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