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Chapter 8
Chapter 8. Knight Novels
Not long after the two of them finished cleaning, evening arrived. Alice and Granny Philoga were cooking in the kitchen, while Fick sat at the wooden table and took several picture books Alice had brought from the bookshelf.
Start as a slave—save a princess—marry the princess—be knighted—fight ten thousand men—be made a lord.
He changed to another book. Start as a horsehand—save a noble—be knighted—fight ten thousand men—marry a princess—be made a lord.
Had he really found this kind of plot interesting before? Once the childhood filter was stripped away, the more Fick read, the more bored he became. It was nothing more than some grassroots nobody saving this person and that person, earning the appreciation of a noble patron, then triggering the buffs of ancestral bloodline and battlefield passion, fighting ten thousand men alone, holding an entire corridor by himself, and finally being personally decorated by the king before being granted the title of great lord for retirement.
Еnum̂ а̊
He changed to another book, one with somewhat tattered edges. Start as a Witch—sell one’s soul to a devil—become an Archmage—research a cure for crystallization disease with the devil in an attempt to conquer the world—be surrounded and annihilated.
Fick flipped back to the introduction page.
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Royal-exclusive reading material. Outsiders must not read. Violators will be fined ten gold. Author: Shulia Saphile.
This one was a little interesting. It probably counted as a negative example for readers.
“Big Brother! Dinner is ready!”
“Coming.”
Е n u m̄a
Fick put all the books back in their original places. Seeing that the boots outside the window showed not the slightest sign of drying, he had no choice but to put on his straw sandals and shuffle into the middle room to eliminate the black bread for dinner. The portion was sufficient, and with hot water, it was not impossible to eat. More importantly, it was something he did not have to pay for, so it tasted especially fragrant.
“What happens to the noble title?”
“Big Brother does not even know that? What an idiot. Ordinary military nobles do not have peerage titles in the first place. Direct descendants retain noble rights, so Big Brother will not be affected at all. It is just that you will have to pay next semester’s tuition yourself. If necessary, I can advance it for you.”
“No need. I have not yet sunk to the point of living off my little sister.”
Baca cerita ini hanya di situs resmi Enuma.id!
After they finished eating, Alice and Fick returned to the room together. Fick took off his coat and trousers, leaving only his shirt and underpants, then lay down on the earthen-brick bed covered with a padded blanket and wrapped himself in the cotton quilt. He was so comfortable that his eyes nearly rolled back.
Alice was still sitting by the bed. She was too embarrassed to share a bed with Fick, and while she suffered inwardly, her toes kept growing colder. In the end, she compromised, undid her hair clip, took off her outer clothes and trousers, and crawled in as well. She only stayed at the very edge of the quilt, her legs still cold.
Еn̊umа̂
“What are you being shy for? If you catch a cold, your brother will have to take care of you.” Granny Philoga came in carrying a wooden basin of hot water. “Mr. Fick, would you like to warm your feet first? The weather is indeed rather cold.”
“Thank you for the trouble, Granny. I will not stand on ceremony.”
“Then I will return to my room first.” Granny Philoga opened the door with her back bent, closed it behind her, and left.
Fick sat up and looked at the shivering Alice. “Shall we do it together?”
“All… all right…” Alice, who had wrapped herself into a ball, said through chattering teeth.
The two of them stretched their feet above the wooden basin together and warmed them in the steam. The hot vapor felt pleasantly scalding.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Fick lowered his head and glanced down. Alice’s feet were very small, pale and clean, without many calluses—children from noble families, no matter how fallen, had never done rough labor. His own feet were much the same. Aside from being so thin they were almost skin and bone, they were not dirty either.
“Not bad. No smell,” he said.
Alice did not answer.
Her feet hovered over the middle of the basin, not daring to lower into the water. She only warmed them in the rising steam. The posture was awkward, and her calves were stretched tight.
Fick glanced at her.
At one and a half meters tall, she curled up in his arms like an oversized doll. Her two hands rested on his thighs as she leaned against him, the crown of her head facing his chin directly, her silver-gray hair brushing against him.
W̃ӗb̃ ñ о v̊ е l̇ Ё ǹ.ŭm̊ӑ
He suddenly felt that the scene was a little absurd.
All these years, this girl had looked at him as if he were rotten meat. Now she was sitting in his arms to warm her feet.
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Alice’s face was terribly red. She said nothing and remained stiff like that.
Fick took the initiative to speak. “Do you read knight novels too?”
Alice was startled, and the top of her head suddenly slammed backward.
“Ow—” Fick covered his chin.
Ẇ е̇b̀ nо́v̇_е̂l _Ё ňum̃ ӓ
“Are you all right, Big Brother? I am sorry!” Alice quickly turned halfway around, held his chin with both hands, widened her eyes, and leaned in to inspect it.
Fick grimaced from the pain, but still waved a hand. “It is fine, it is fine. I am not some brittle skeleton.”
Alice stared at his chin for several seconds. Only after confirming that it was not red or swollen did she let out a breath and turn back around.
“When Father told Big Brother stories every night,” she said softly, “I would also listen against the wall.”
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Fick looked at the back of her head.
“At first, I thought they were stirring. I thought becoming a Witch knight in the future would not be bad either. But I do not believe in the gods, and I am not loyal to the imperial family. I cannot become a knight.”
Ёnũ m̃ а. і̀ d
She lowered her head and looked at the water in the basin.
“After hearing too many of them, I got tired of them.”
Fick did not ask about that Witch novel. He changed the question. “To become a knight, must one join either the Church or the royal family?”
Alice nodded.
“After someone becomes a knight, not a single one of them defects,” she said. “I heard a few military nobles say that a knight’s brain is like it has been implanted with a seed. They cling to doctrine to the death. After retirement, they will inevitably either grow fat and die within ten years, or smoke Magic Crystals until they die.”
“Their lives only consist of three things: holding Magic Crystals in their mouths on horseback, reading novels at a desk, and holding Magic Crystals in their mouths in bed.”
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Fick was silent for two seconds. Old man, you really did not miss a single one.
“I certainly do not want to be brainwashed.”
Alice did not answer.
Steam drifted up from the basin, making them drowsy.
Fick suddenly remembered something.
“If you want to hear a bedtime knight story, I have one that is not so stale,” he said. “Before exams, I often listened to stories from an angel named Cervantes Saavedra.”
Е̄nūm̃ а̂ .і̂d̄
“What is it called?” Alice turned her head slightly.
“《Don Quixote》.”
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
She had never heard that name before.
Fick began telling the story.
In his previous life, because he had not been allowed to touch phones or computers, he had often tricked his parents into buying more extracurricular classics for him—after all, they would appear on the Chinese language exam. Novels were the best, though unfortunately there were too few of them. Over time, he had read books like 《Don Quixote》 and 《The Count of Monte Cristo》 countless times. When he was bored, he even read the annotations seriously. After his brain had been flooded once by Azure Crystal, those memories had deepened considerably.
Fick told her about an old man who went mad from reading knight novels, rode a skinny horse, wore a battered suit of armor, and went out to become a knight-errant.
W̆ е̌ b̂ n̂ovẽ l Е nů ṁ a
He told her how the old man mistook windmills for giants, charged forward to fight them, and was sent flying by the windmill’s sails.
He told her how the old man mistook an inn for a castle, prostitutes for noble ladies, and a swineherd for a knight.
He told her how the old man was beaten, deceived, and treated as a joke, yet always believed that he was upholding justice.
Alice listened. At first, she was only listening politely. As she listened, she slowly turned her head.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
“Did he smoke Magic Crystals until he went insane?” she asked softly.
“He was insane,” Fick said. “But he did not smoke.”
Е̄nüm̈а̄.і̄ ď
Alice thought for a moment, then suddenly smiled. “It is more interesting than the knight novels I have heard.”
Fick continued. He told her about Sancho, about Rocinante, and about that old man who could never win, yet would never admit defeat.
Alice became absorbed in the story. Halfway through, Fick stopped and reached out to test the water temperature.
It had gone cold.
“That is enough for today,” he said.
Alice froze for a moment, then lowered her head to look at the water in the basin.
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“…Ah.” She seemed to have just come back to herself.
The two of them took their feet out and dried them.
Alice crawled into the quilt, wrapped it tightly around herself, and left only her head exposed. She watched Fick carry the wooden basin out, then watched him come back and lie down on the other side of the bed.
After a while of silence, Alice suddenly spoke.
“Big Brother.”
“Mm?”
Ẃeb̌n̄о v̄е̇ l Е nu̇ m̌ а
“That story is very special. You must write it down and publish it as a book.”
Fick turned his face sideways to look at her.
Baca cerita ini hanya di situs resmi Enuma.id!
“It will definitely earn a lot of money. We will make a fortune,” she said, her eyes bright in the darkness.
Fick said nothing.
He was thinking: After transmigrating here, I can read these books as if I were born knowing English. Being able to speak and write English is probably the only thing I brought with me from before.
As long as I do not write this long novel all the way to the ending, there should be no problem. For the wording and phrasing that does not fit this world, I can read through it once myself, then have Alice revise it and smooth over the inconsistencies again.
W̃ е̌ bn оv̂ е̌l̆ Е̂ n üṁ а
I can completely imitate the great Cervantes and release only the first half. I can stop in the middle like an author who abandons his serial, then publicly claim that the later content is the usual routine of winning the king’s appreciation, gaining office, and receiving titles. That way, I can avoid being entangled with the royals and the Church.
If someone releases a bright, orthodox pirated second half, just like what happened after the great Cervantes finished the first half, I will neither support nor refute it. In any case, the final right of interpretation will be in my hands.
After all, the readers will only be knights, commoners, and ordinary nobles. Surely the king will not personally come running over and say, “If you do not write the second half, I will cut off your head,” right?
“All right. I have nothing to do recently anyway, and the money can last one month. I will write it during class.”
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
There was wind outside the window, gently rattling the window frame.
Alice shrank farther into the quilt.
Ẇе̃b̌ nо́ v́ е̄ l̂ Ĕn̊.um̆.а
“I have paper and pens. Big Brother, bring them with you tomorrow. Once you write it, I want to be the first to read it. Good night.”
“Good night.”
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