Noon – The Restaurant
They gathered again at the restaurant—Fenric treating, everyone lively.
Jitto was so excited he could barely hold his chopsticks steady. Eating at the same table as the school flower? He looked like he’d hit the jackpot.
Fenric, in contrast, was completely natural. He admitted Isla Wynn was beautiful—no worse than Lin Mei in appearance—but at the end of the day she was still a young girl who hadn’t truly matured. But his calm detachment only made him seem more composed... which, in the girls’ eyes, made him even more attractive.
Lunch was cheerful and noisy. At least Jitto was over the moon.
After eating, several girls suggested walking around before heading back. With the college entrance exam so close, the teachers had relaxed management; as long as no one went too far, seniors were granted a little freedom.
Jitto clearly wanted to tag along, but when Fenric shook his head and started back, he sighed and followed.
"Ric, why aren’t you going with them?" he whispered.
"Not interested."
"Damn. Now I finally understand why you’re still single."
Fenric glanced at him. "And you’re not?"
"...That’s different!"
Back at school, Fenric didn’t return to class. Instead, he headed straight toward the faculty building.
"Where are you going?" Jitto called after him.
"To ask for leave."
He needed time to shop—gold, silver, gifts... everything required to formally set things straight with Lin Mei tonight. He didn’t want to make things difficult for her by dragging things on without proper intent.
The leave request went smoothly. Fenric used yesterday’s river accident as cover: said he’d hit his head and felt dizzy. The homeroom teacher approved immediately.
Once out, Fenric hit the mall hard.
Gold and silver jewelry. Refined handicrafts. Elegant decorative pieces. Bags, boxes, symbolic dowry items. He bought so much that the clerks started treating him like a VIP.
He even picked up a watch for General Shaw—future father-in-law material deserved a little respect.
By the time he was done, he’d burned through more than two hundred thousand.
Worth it.
Night Before midnight, Fenric transferred every last gift into his personal warehouse.
At the stroke of twelve, he entered Samsara Space and immediately requested teleportation to his personal world.
The Great Wall.
He appeared out of thin air at the fortress gate. The guards had seen stranger things by now; nobody panicked.
"Sir Fenric, you’re here!" one soldier said brightly. "Commander Lin is on the training grounds with the Crane Army!"
Fenric gave him a flat look and rapped him lightly on the helmet. "I didn’t ask where Commander Lin is. Where’s General Shaw?"
The soldier rubbed his head—more embarrassed than hurt. "The Commander is in the council chamber. A court envoy arrived with an imperial decree!"
"Oh?" Fenric raised a brow. Right, the court should be issuing rewards about now.
He turned and headed for the council chamber.
Inside, General Shaw and the officers were all smiles. A young official in court robes stood beside them.
"Sir Fenric—you came at the perfect time!" General Shaw said, beckoning him forward. "Come, let me introduce you. This is Lord Shen, special envoy from the Privy Council."
He turned to the envoy. "Lord Shen, this is the great hero who saved the world—Sir Fenric! He slew the Taotie Beast Queen single-handedly!"
"Oh?" Lord Shen’s eyes widened. He bowed with surprising courtesy. "So you are Sir Fenric. A rare genius indeed! His Majesty has long wished to meet you."
(In the original course of events, this man had been arrogant, dismissive—even toward the Great Wall command. Knowing of Fenric’s... ’heavenly origins’ had clearly adjusted his tone.)
Fenric smiled. "I happened to bring some specialty items from my homeland this time. Since Lord Shen is here, everyone gets a share."
Right there, in full view of the court envoy, he began pulling items from his personal warehouse.
To everyone else, it looked like he was producing objects from thin air.
Lord Shen stared, stunned—his knees nearly buckling.
A celestial immortal...!
Fenric hid a grin. He had put on this little show on purpose. In the original plotline, this Shen guy was arrogant and difficult to deal with due to his noble status. Now? Better to awe him early before he caused trouble—especially since Lin Mei still had to live here.
Fenric handed out beautifully wrapped boxes—modern packaging that looked luxurious to ancient eyes.
"One each," he said warmly. "Please, accept them. Don’t refuse, and don’t think them unworthy."
Lord Shen wiped his hands on his robe before accepting his box with both palms. "How could we ever look down on treasures bestowed by Sir Fenric?"
Under Fenric’s guidance, everyone opened their boxes.
Inside: watches.
Not expensive—just a few hundred apiece—but elegantly made. The time markers weren’t Arabic numerals; instead, they used the twelve traditional zodiac branches: 子,丑,寅,卯,辰,巳,午,未,申,酉,戌,亥. Perfect for gifting in an ancient setting.
General Shaw blinked, fascinated. "What is this?"
"A timepiece," Fenric explained. "It records the hour. See here—the top mark is equivalent to the 子 hour. Once set, it keeps turning with the day’s cycle so you can always check the time."
They were all quick learners. Within moments, everyone understood—and appreciated—its value.
Lord Shen strapped his on and couldn’t stop exclaiming. "Remarkable! Truly a wondrous device!"
The officers nodded vigorously, admiring both appearance and function. Several muttered that such a thing could be made an heirloom.
Fenric smiled again, then drew out another box—this one he handed directly to Lord Shen.
"This one is for His Majesty," he said. "Please present it on my behalf."
He had bought extras for exactly this reason.
Lord Shen accepted it reverently. "Why not present it yourself? If you were to gift His Majesty in person, he would be overjoyed—and reward you richly."
Fenric cut him off with a wave. "I cannot remain in this world for long. I won’t be able to make the journey."
Lord Shen glanced toward General Shaw and Strategist Lau. They both nodded. So he let the matter drop.
Fenric produced another round of gifts—this batch small binoculars.
He really had come prepared.
"What is this?" Lord Shen asked, eyes shining with curiosity now.
"A telescope," Fenric said. "It helps you see great distances."
They tried them at once. When the distant towers and ridgelines came sharply into view, their jaws dropped.
General Shaw immediately grasped its military value. "With this... clairvoyant sight! Early warning, formation scouting—on the battlefield, this could change everything!"
In their eyes, the telescopes were even more valuable than the watches.
General Shaw, seasoned and perceptive, gave Fenric a knowing smile. "Sir, you’ve gone to great trouble. I imagine there’s something on your mind?"
"Correct." Fenric didn’t hesitate. He brought out the last of the betrothal gifts and set them down. "Commander Lin and I understand each other. I wish to marry her. Please—grant your blessing."
The phrasing wasn’t exactly in line with ancient formalities, but General Shaw didn’t care. He knew Fenric was unfamiliar with their rites—and besides, the meaning was clear.
He glanced at Strategist Lau. Both men smiled.
"Since you have spoken," General Shaw said, "I consent."
Lord Shen laughed tactfully. "Oh? Then I will return next time for wedding wine! A joyous event indeed!"
"Congratulations, Sir Fenric!"
Fenric bowed gratefully. "My thanks, Lord Shen."
General Shaw turned and called, "Come! Summon Commander Lin!"
"Yes, General!"
A soldier hurried out to deliver the order.
While they waited, Fenric took out a slim, rectangular device. "Everyone’s gathered. Let’s take a picture."
"..."
Blank stares.
"What is ’take a picture’?" Lord Shen asked, every bit the curious child.
"General, Lord Shen—everyone stand closer. I’ll take one with you."
They shuffled into position, still confused but obedient. Fenric set the timer on the digital camera, jogged into place behind them—his height let him loom easily over the group—and click.
A group photo captured in an instant.
When Fenric showed them the display, everyone froze. There they were—faces, armor, hall, everything—trapped in a small, flat image as clear as a mirror.
Lord Shen recoiled and yelped, "What spell is this?! Has my soul been stolen?!"