Not Bullying the Weak, But Moving With Ease

Qingxi Kingdom, inside the princess's bedchamber.

A flash of light crossed the notebook on the desk, and then Yusewood appeared on the bed.

Every time she emerged from a script in the past, she would linger in bed for a long while, savoring the aftertaste.

But this time, Yusewood lacked such leisure; far from savoring it, she wished she could scrub the memory clean, sitting up on the bed instantly.

"Huff, huff..."

The silver-gray haired princess was drenched in sweat, clutching her forehead. She frowned in deep thought before standing up and walking to the desk to flip through her notes:

"Why... was it a nightmare?"

Immersing herself in the dreams she wove was second nature to Yusewood.

Although dream worlds did carry the risk of losing control, that only occurred when the settings were extremely complex or overloaded with elements. The little story Yusewood had written could be said to have minimized uncontrollability to the lowest point; it was terrifyingly stable.

Logically, it was unlikely for it to collapse, especially with that level of chaos.

"Could it be that my own internal anxiety... was projected inside?"

Sitting at the desk, the princess tied her silver-gray hair behind her, completely baffled.

In the dream she constructed, why did Faust’s lovers appear? I do not recall being that afraid of them.

However, that sense of aimless anxiety—watching something she cherished slowly become unfamiliar—was exactly the same as in the past.

Really... can I not even have peace while dreaming?

Yusewood sighed softly, shaking her head while checking her notes.

"!!!"

Suddenly, she discovered that a page in the notebook had been torn out, and her sage-blue eyes shrank instantly.

Who was it? Who had been in her room?

This was not a mystery; in the entire Qingxi Kingdom, only Faust could enter her bedchamber without obstruction.

But even if he had looked, while it was somewhat shameful, it did not really matter.

Why did he have to tear out a page? To others, the contents of these notes were just trivial little stories, not worth mentioning at all.

"Knock, knock, knock—"

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Royal Sister, are you there?"

Faust?!

The silver-gray haired princess bit her lip. After a long moment, she composed herself and replied:

"Please, come in."

Faust pushed the door open and entered. Yusewood was sitting at the desk, seemingly having just woken up. She was still wearing a thin nightgown, which was quite revealing compared to her usual gauzy dresses and windbreakers, leaving her dazzlingly fair skin exposed.

However, no matter how suggestive her figure, it could not mask that cold, imposing temperament.

Her silver-gray hair was tied into a simple ponytail, draping behind her shoulder, and her fairy-like beautiful face appeared exceptionally dreamlike in the morning light filtering through the window.

The princess’s fingertips still rested on the open, thick notebook. She turned her head slightly, her sage-blue eyes gazing over; her expression was calm and rippleless, yet deep within, it seemed to harbor a cold, scrutinizing gaze.

Just like the countless meetings with Faust in the past, the air seemed to be filled with an indescribable tension.

Oh my, she is acting quite convincingly.

Faust could not help but chuckle inwardly.

In the past, regarding this Royal Sister whose depths he could never fathom, the Prince of Qingxi naturally felt a significant amount of awe, not daring to speak loudly for fear of disturbing such a celestial being.

But now, having completely stripped away the inner thoughts of the silver-gray haired princess, Faust had effectively lost his infatuation with Yusewood.

Within the heart of this Royal Sister, who appeared as cold and noble as a fairy on the outside, lay thoughts far more repressed than those of an ordinary witch.

And he was the one holding the initiative!

"Royal Sister, good morning."

Faust greeted her with a natural expression. His gaze swept casually across the messy room before finally landing on Yusewood’s slightly pale face.

"You look... not very well? Did you not rest well last night?"

Yusewood did not answer immediately, instead watching him quietly, scanning every micro-expression on the prince’s face, attempting to unearth a shred of guilt beneath his impeccable concern.

Faust returned her gaze candidly, even wearing a hint of well-timed worry.

The brief silence was as long as a century.

Finally, Yusewood slowly closed the notebook in front of her:

"It is nothing, just had an... unpleasant dream."

Her voice was colder than usual, her back straight, and her posture remained elegant, but her fingers curled unconsciously against her lower abdomen.

"Is that so... do not take it to heart. Dreams are the opposite of reality, Royal Sister."

Faust consoled her with a relaxed tone. The Royal Sister must have discovered the missing page, but since Yusewood did not bring it up, he would act as if he had never done it.

Regardless, he was not the one in a hurry.

Yusewood tilted her chin slightly, turning her head: "Faust, is there something you need from me so early?"

Truly airtight, Royal Sister, but how long can you keep up the act?

Faust could not help but sigh inwardly.

Mephistopheles had only analyzed a miniature fate script, and the harvest was quite limited. To conduct a deeper exploration into the essence of the fate script, he would certainly have to rely on the active assistance of the story compiler.

A script that satisfied his own small wishes was by no means Yusewood’s limit; as a full-fledged story compiler, she could even recreate past myths without issue.

With such a powerful assistant, Faust definitely wanted to pull Yusewood into his own fate-defying team, but the latter seemed quite reluctant and was still awkwardly nursing her jealousy.

No matter. Since she is not a 【witch】, I shall strike with a heavy fist and fiercely correct the Royal Sister’s ignorance!

Your brother Faust is not bullying the weak, but moving with ease!

"Come to think of it, I did not sleep well last night either."

Faust suddenly sighed, raised a hand to rub his temple, and complained as if in passing:

"I just feel... my head is a mess. It is as if I had many dreams, but I cannot remember the details. I felt even more tired after waking up."

Yusewood’s body stiffened for a moment. She turned her head, her sage-blue eyes staring intently at the man’s eyes.

"You... also had dreams?"

"Probably, I cannot remember clearly."

Faust gave a bitter smile and rubbed his eyes:

"But for some reason, after I woke up, I especially wanted to see you... Royal Sister, you once said that if I felt tired, I could lay on your lap to pour out my worries. Is that promise still valid?"

Yusewood was stunned, then stood up, sat on the edge of the bed, and patted her thigh:

"...Of course, how could I break my word?"

Although her expression remained cold, the impatient emotion had already leaked through the details.

Faust did not point it out. He chuckled, sat on the edge of the bed, and gently rested his head on the maiden’s knees, which were covered by her skirt.

This action occurred so naturally, so logically, as if it were just a weary younger brother’s subconscious reliance on his sister.

Yusewood did not even have time to react before she felt the youth’s warm cheek against her lap, his soft black hair brushing against her skirt, bringing a subtle ticklish sensation.