154 What Marriage Really Brings to Men
Evening rolled around, and Leon stepped out of the bathroom, freshly scrubbed and feeling like a million bucks after washing away the day’s fatigue.
Roswiser had already snuggled into bed, wrapped in the blankets like a cozy burrito.
Earlier at the training ground, the Mother Dragon had been busted by her own maid and then imprisoned in the Holy Temple for an entire day.
She had boldly declared that if Leon was so capable, he shouldn’t dare to sleep with her.
Ha, buddy isn’t scared of threats like that.
I didn’t snitch on you, and I haven’t made you mad, so what gives you the right to kick me out of bed?
Leon dried his hair and waltzed over to the other side of the bed, lifted the covers as usual, and jumped in.
Roswiser made no fuss, obediently lying there, her arms flopped out of the blanket, hands resting on her belly, beautiful eyes staring at the ceiling as if she were meditating.
Leon took a glance and turned off the bedside lamp.
“Goodnight,” he said.
“I’m not sleepy,” Roswiser shot back.
“Okay, then I’ll just sleep first.”
“You can’t sleep!”
Leon tilted his head, “Why not?”
“Because the pregnant queen isn’t sleeping! How can you— a captive— get to sleep?” Roswiser had a point.
Leon sighed in exasperation, “So what do you want, Your Pregnant Majesty?”
After a moment’s thought, Roswiser said, “I want to hear a story. You tell me a story.”
Leon rolled his eyes, “How old are you?”
“Didn’t we just celebrate my birthday? You’ve forgotten already? I’m two hundred and eighteen,” Roswiser replied.
“You do realize you’re over two hundred? Not exactly a kid anymore, so why do you want bedtime stories?”
“I don’t care! I want a story.”
“Stop acting up and go to sleep.”
“I want to hear! I want to hear!”
Roswiser started throwing a little fit under the blankets— you know, like a toddler? No, wait, more like a baby dragon? Whatever, who cares. Kicking around like there’s no tomorrow, she had the audacity to land a few kicks on Leon.
Leon had already retreated to the edge of the bed, but it didn’t quite save his behind.
Come on, Creators, giving you long legs is for dressing up as a bunny-girl in black stockings, not for kicking your husband’s b*tt in bed— seriously!
Exasperated, Leon finally spoke, “Roswiser.”
Her little foot stopped right on his waist. “What? Are you going to start telling me a story now?”
“I’ll put up with you for six months,” Leon grit his teeth.
Roswiser squinted playfully, “Well, after six months, you can’t explode. Right now, I’m a pregnant queen, and my emotions are unstable. You have to handle me. Don’t forget, you promised!”
A slip-up can lead to eternal regret.
Leon realized that her version of “emotionally unstable” didn’t quite match his.
When he agreed, he thought she’d be shooting fireballs left and right and unleashing two centuries’ worth of pent-up frustration on him.
But boy, was he wrong! It seemed like Roswiser thought being “pregnant and emotionally unstable” gave her a free ticket to ask for all sorts of ridiculous requests.
Including but not limited to:
“I want to see you propose to a carrot, with an eggplant as the witness.”
“Silver Dragon captive Leon, step forward! Five hundred sit-ups, NOW!”
“Let’s play rock-paper-scissors; the loser has to wash the winner’s feet. Oh, by the way, you can only pick rock.”
“I don’t want dinner anymore.”
Five minutes later…
“I want a midnight snack.”
“……”
Leon had heard the saying that a pregnant woman can’t think straight, but who knew it had a hidden incubation period?
What silver dragon queen? Right now, she was halfway to becoming a silver dragon giant baby!
How about I trade my titles to you and you stop bugging me? Please!
Sigh… Leon thought to himself.
Well, when it came down to it, “story time” was nothing compared to those bizarre demands.
“What story do you want to hear?” Leon asked.
“Anything, I’ll listen to whatever you tell me.”
Wow, sweet little words indeed!
Leon felt his irritation dissipate a bit, so he thought it over and quickly picked out a story.
He actually had quite a few of them stored up in his head. After all, storytelling is a crucial skill for a doting dad!
“How about I tell you the story of The Little Dragon Crossing the River?”
“Okay.”
“Once upon a time, there was a little baby dragon who wanted to cross a small river, but the current was fierce, and she was afraid of being swept away. So she asked a passing big dragon, who said the water was shallow and it would be easy to get across.”
“Then the little dragon asked a squirrel nearby, but the squirrel said the water was deep and too dangerous. The little dragon hesitated, she—”
Roswiser suddenly interrupted, “Wait a second! I have a question.”
“What?”
“Why can the squirrel talk?”
“……”
“And why doesn’t the little dragon just use the bridge?”
“Uh…”
“Why didn’t the passing big dragon just carry her over? This story is so depressing, pick another one.”
Yep, adults just can’t understand the romantic outlook of kids.
Leon thought for a moment and switched to another story.
“Alright, let’s try The Crow Drinks Water.”
“Okay.”
“Once, there was a crow dying of thirst, and it saw a bottle with water in it. But the opening was too small, and there wasn’t enough water for its beak to reach. So, after thinking over it, the crow had a bright idea— it flew to the riverbank and grabbed some pebbles, dropping them into the bottle until the water rose, and finally, it could drink. This story tells us—”
“Hold on! I have another question.”
“…… What now?”
Roswiser turned her face, her beautiful silver eyes serious as she asked, “If the crow can fly to the riverbank, why not just drink the water right there instead of filling a bottle with pebbles?”
“Uh… maybe… it was a neat freak?” Leon’s explanation sounded pretty flimsy.
“Why? Is river water dirty? Did it get messed up by the little dragon crossing earlier?”
What an unexpected crossover, taking him down an uncharted path.
Leon sighed, “Roswiser, can’t you keep a little childlike spirit?”
“Hmph! If you didn’t want to tell me a good story, don’t blame me for lacking a childlike spirit.”
Is it my fault I’m not telling you a good story? Clearly, you’re not listening!
Telling a story to Roswiser, who came here with the intention of torturing him, was like asking for trouble.
Just then, the bed moved, and Roswiser turned over, facing away from Leon.
Phew~ Leon sighed in secret relief; looks like the night’s antics were finally winding down.
The bedroom quieted down, the only thing breaking the silence was the ticking of the clock.
Leon flipped over in a more comfortable position and gradually closed his eyes.
Sleepiness washed over him, and he yawned.
After what felt like ages, Leon found himself drifting in a half-asleep state. He even dreamt he saw his master’s donkey—
But right then, he was jolted back to reality by Roswiser’s voice behind him.
“I want an apple.”
Leon made a grumbling noise, hoping to pretend he didn’t hear.
But the next second, a delicate foot pressed into his waist, clear as day, “I want an apple!”
The soft foot snugly pressed against him, playful toes wiggling around, sending all his sleepiness packing.
He let out a heavy sigh— tonight he sighed more than he had in the past week— and slowly turned to face her, reaching out to pinch Roswiser’s cheek, turning her head toward the clock on the wall.
“Tell me, Melkway, what time is it?”
“Three twenty in the morning.” Roswiser’s mouth was pinched into an “O” shape, but she obediently answered.
“Three twenty in the morning, and you want what kind of apple?” Leon was about to lose it.
Now he understood why Roswiser told him during the day, “If you’re capable, don’t go to bed.”
Turns out she wasn’t threatening him but actually advising him.
Now look where he was, wide awake at three in the morning.
“If you won’t get me an apple, I’ll make a scene,” that was the real threat.
And so, what did marriage actually bring Leon?
With no other option, Leon threw back the covers and got out of bed.
He grabbed an apple and a kn*fe, returning to the bedside, turning on the lamp, and began peeling the fruit meticulously.
The skin peeled off in one whole layer, thin and perfect, without breaking in between.
Roswiser raised an eyebrow, “Nice kn*fe skills.”
“Thanks for the compliment, I used to do this for a donkey—”
“Shut up.” She shot him a look and snatched the apple from his hand, taking a bite.
Sweet and crunchy—delicious!
She sat up against the bed’s headboard, holding the apple with both hands, eating it in small bites, looking very serious about it.
Though Leon didn’t quite understand why one would be so serious about eating an apple, after all these days, he had learned one thing:
When it comes to pregnant women, it’s best to mind your own business.
“Full now, you handle the rest.” Roswiser extended the half-eaten apple toward Leon.
Looking down, Leon saw it was precisely cut to half.
Ah, I see, so she was eating it just to leave exactly half for him, huh?
What’s the point of that—
Forget it, when it comes to pregnant women, it’s best to mind your own business.
Leon took the apple and took a bite.
The sweet, fragrant flesh filled his mouth— he couldn’t tell if it was the apple or Roswiser’s lingering lipstick.
In fact, this wasn’t the first time Leon had eaten half-finished food that Roswiser couldn’t stomach.
Pregnant women’s appetites were mysterious—they’re here one moment, gone the next.
A lot of food went to waste, and it felt too wasteful to just throw it away, so the couple had taken it upon themselves to clear each other’s plates.
With the apple clamped in his mouth, Leon freed his hands to clean up the peels and the kn*fe.
Meanwhile, Ms. Pregnant had already nestled back under the blankets after finishing her snack.
Leon stole a glance at her— this time, surely, the night’s mischief was finally coming to an end?
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the bedside drawer.
It was half-open, and it seemed to hold a form.
Leon pulled it out and saw it was a registration form for a prenatal yoga class.
His mind journeyed back two months ago when he and Roswiser bumped into her sister Isar while purchasing nutritional supplements in Sky City. Isar had even helped Roswiser sign up for this class!
It was meant for pregnant women three months in.
But Roswiser hadn’t mentioned it at all since then.
Looking at the yoga registration in his hands, Leon’s thoughts sparked.
“Staying up at night surely means you’re too idle during the day. Hmph, Mother Dragon, you’ve been messing with me for so long; it’s time for some payback!”
