Chapter 22: Sugar Apples.

Morning sunlight filtered through the lace curtains, casting dappled patterns across the soft carpet.

Hill stood before the full-length mirror, clutching a pure white silk blouse, brows knitted tightly together.

It was an extremely expensive and beautiful garment: delicate ruffled cuffs, silver subtle embroidery along the collar.

But it had one utterly fatal design flaw…

The buttons were on the back.

And not just a few—twenty of them, each a tiny pearl the size of a grain of rice.

“…Is this clothing meant for humans, or is it some kind of torture device?”

Hill took a deep breath and reached behind, attempting to fasten the buttons.

Even with her current body’s exceptional flexibility, threading those minuscule pearls into equally minuscule eyelets was still an extreme test of human limits.

After three attempts her fingers were nearly cramping, and she had only managed the bottom two.

And because she couldn’t see, they seemed to be fastened crookedly anyway.

“Sigh…”

Hill let her arms drop in defeat, staring at her reflection: half-dressed, large swathes of pale back exposed, feeling a profound sense of frustration.

In her previous life, throwing on a coarse linen shirt took three seconds. Now getting dressed took half an hour.

Click.

The bedroom door was gently pushed open.

Phyllis entered carrying a basin of wash water.

Seeing Hill in such a disheveled state didn’t surprise her at all; instead, the corner of her mouth curved into an indulgent, almost expected smile.

“Oh my, Hill, you’re awake and didn’t call for me?”

Phyllis set the basin down, wiped her hands on a warm towel, and walked naturally behind Hill.

“I can do it myself…”

Hill still wanted to struggle a little.

“Don’t move.”

Phyllis’s fingers settled lightly on Hill’s shoulders—the gentle but不容拒绝 touch made Hill freeze instinctively.

“Clothes this complicated aren’t meant to be put on alone.”

Phyllis spoke softly.

Her fingertips danced nimbly along Hill’s spine. Those headache-inducing buttons behaved like obedient soldiers in her hands, fastening one after another.

When she reached the middle, Phyllis’s finger accidentally brushed the dip along Hill’s spine.

“…!”

Hill jolted as if shocked.

“That tickles.”

“Bear with it just a little longer. Almost done.”

Phyllis didn’t stop; instead she leaned even closer.

She gazed at Hill’s completely unguarded nape, at the gradually covered skin, a trace of satisfaction flickering in her eyes.

“There. Done.”

After securing the final collar button, Phyllis straightened Hill’s collar, then rested both hands on Hill’s shoulders, looking at their reflections together in the mirror.

“Perfect. Hill looks beautiful today too.”

Hill stared at the mirror—at themself wrapped up so neatly, refined like a porcelain doll—and could only nod helplessly.

“Thank you… Next time, can we buy clothes with buttons in the front?”

“Absolutely not.”

Phyllis refused with a sweet smile.

“Front buttons can easily pop open from combat shock waves—too dangerous. Back buttons are the most secure.”

…The most secure way to make sure you can never leave my side.

…

Breakfast time.

Today’s breakfast was fruit salad with muffins.

Several deep-purple grapes sat on the plate.

They were a rare southern variety—thin-skinned, but extremely difficult to peel.

Hill picked one up, instinctively trying to pry the skin with a fingernail.

But her nails had been trimmed smooth and rounded by Phyllis; there was no way to get under that taut peel.

With a bit more force, grape juice squirted out, staining her fingers.

“Tch…”

Hill frowned and was about to bite into it with her teeth.

A hand holding a silver fork reached over and gently took the wounded grape.

“I’ll do it.”

Phyllis held a small fruit knife.

A flash of the blade—the thin peel fell away like petals, revealing crystal-clear flesh.

She even carefully removed the seeds inside.

“Ah～”

Phyllis speared the fruit on the fork and held it to Hill’s lips.

Hill opened her mouth on reflex and ate.

Sweet juice burst across her tongue.

Then the second, the third.

Phyllis peeled quickly and rhythmically.

All Hill had to do was chew and swallow.

Halfway through, Hill suddenly froze.

She looked at her own clean hands, then at Phyllis busily working across from her.

Wait… something’s wrong!

Am I regressing!?

In the past I used to eat grapes peel, seeds and all!

Since when did I turn into this helpless person who gets everything handed to them?

“What’s wrong? Not sweet enough?”

Phyllis paused, asking with concern.

“No… very sweet.”

Hill chewed, mood complicated.

“I just feel like I could handle something this small myself.”

“Hill’s hands are meant for holding a sword.”

Phyllis once again deployed her all-purpose reasoning.

She took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the corner of Hill’s mouth—even though it wasn’t actually dirty.

“Dirty work like this would make Hill’s hands all sticky. I don’t like that.”

…

Afternoon.

Phyllis was in the kitchen preparing ingredients for dinner.

Hill sat alone by the living-room window, staring blankly outside.

A vendor’s call drifted in from the street.

“Candied apples! Special candied apples~…”

Hill’s ears twitched.

She touched her pocket—there lay the “grand fortune” Phyllis had given her yesterday: two copper coins.

In her previous life’s memory, a stick of candied apple cost only one copper.

Perfect—buy two sticks, let everyone share.

Hill thought to herself.

This was one of the rare chances to prove she still had the ability to shop independently.

She glanced toward the kitchen; Phyllis was humming while chopping vegetables.

Like a child sneaking out, Hill quietly opened the door and slipped outside.

At the entrance, an old man pushing a cart was calling out his wares.

“Grandpa, two sticks of candied apple, please.”

Hill confidently handed over the two copper coins.

The old man stopped the cart, glanced at the two pitiful coppers in Hill’s hand, then at the obviously priceless silk blouse Hill was wearing.

His gaze changed.

It was the look of someone who had spotted a fat sheep.

“Little miss, this isn’t enough.”

The old man rubbed his hands, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

“Candied apples have gone up in price. Five coppers per stick now.”

“Huh?”

Hill was stunned.

“Five? How is it so expensive? Wasn’t it one before?”

“Before was before. Prices have risen, you know.”

The old man saw this young lady was clearly an innocent sheltered miss and started making things up.

“Besides, mine are special—made with premium honey. Two coppers? You couldn’t even buy the stick with that.”

Hill stood frozen, clutching the two coins.

Her sense of this world’s prices had grown hazy.

For the past month, everything had been bought by Phyllis, every bill settled by Phyllis.

She had no idea how much eggs cost now, or whether candied apples had really increased in price.

“Then… then I won’t buy.”

Hill awkwardly tried to take the coins back, embarrassed.

“Hey, don’t go!”

Seeing the fat sheep about to escape, the old man’s tone turned aggressive.

“I already took them out for you. Not buying—is that looking down on me?”

Just as Hill felt at a loss, seriously considering whether to bolt—

—a hand rested on her shoulder.

The hand was cool, carrying a familiar citrus scent.

“What’s wrong, Hill?”

Phyllis’s voice sounded behind her.

Gentle, calm—yet the old man’s face instantly drained of color.

“Ph-Phyllis…”

Hill looked as if she had seen a savior.

“I wanted to buy candied apples, but I didn’t have enough money. He said five coppers per stick…”

“Oh? Five coppers?”

Phyllis raised an eyebrow slightly and turned to the old man.

She was still smiling.

But the smile never reached her eyes.

In those blue pupils lay only a dead, frozen wasteland.

“Strange… I seem to recall the guild’s market price regulation clearly states the maximum price for candied apples is two coppers per stick.”

Phyllis’s voice wasn’t loud, yet each word struck the old man’s heart like a hammer.

“Could it be that you’re using some prohibited magical ingredient? Should I call the guards to come inspect?”

Cold sweat poured down the old man instantly.

“N-no! I remembered wrong! Two! Just two!”

He frantically wrapped two sticks of candied apple and shoved them into Hill’s hands—without even daring to take the money—then pushed his cart to flee.

“Stop.”

Phyllis called after him.

She took the two copper coins from Hill’s hand and flicked them with her finger.

The coins landed precisely in the old man’s cash box with a crisp clink.

“We don’t take advantage of others.”

Phyllis smiled as she tidied the strands of hair the wind had blown across Hill’s forehead.

“But if I ever see you trying to cheat my Hill again because she doesn’t know the prices…”

She didn’t finish the sentence.

She merely pressed the tip of her shoe lightly against a small pebble on the ground.

Crack.

The pebble shattered into powder.

The old man nearly dropped to his knees; he scrambled away in terror.

…

At the dormitory entrance.

Hill held the two sticks of candied apple, mood somewhat downcast.

“Am I really that useless?”

She lowered her head and took a bite.

“I can’t even buy something without getting scammed. I used to be so sharp…”

“How could you be?”

Phyllis took Hill’s hand, led her inside, and closed the door behind them.

“Hill only needs to be cute and strong.”

Phyllis helped Hill slip off her shoes and put on soft slippers.

“These petty, scheming, deceit-filled street matters aren’t suitable for Hill.”

“Hill’s hands are for holding a sword, not for counting coppers.”

“In the future, if you want anything, just tell me directly. I’ll bring the very best to you.”

Phyllis lifted her head and met Hill’s somewhat dazed gaze.

She saw a flicker of wavering in Hill’s eyes.

Yes—just like that.

Everyone outside is a liar. Everyone is bad.

Only I will never deceive you.

Forget how to keep accounts. Forget how to haggle.

None of it matters anymore.

Your eyes only need to look at me.

Everything else—leave it all to me with peace of mind.

“Alright, go wash your hands. Tonight I made your favorite cream stew.”

Phyllis gently pushed Hill toward the washroom.

Hill obeyed obediently.

She even forgot to ask why Phyllis had appeared at the door so perfectly timed.

…

Phyllis watched her retreating back, then took a small crystal orb from her pocket.

She gently polished its surface.

“Two-copper-adventure… concluded.”

Phyllis smiled and casually snuffed out the tiny, unlit spark still hovering above the orb.