Harry Potter: The Legend of Nero Ravenclaw - Chapter 168: Convergence of the Self

“M... Marissa! Are they my kids?” Rafael's eyes weren't moving away from the adorable kids' faces.“No, Rafael. They are not,” Marissa said with a fake smile, “They aren't yours. Remember?” she batted her lashes quite dramatically, “We were never married!”Marissa Aaron’s elder sister Valerie Aaron jilted her blind boyfriend on her wedding day and ran off. For face-saving, Merissa's family pleaded to her to marry Raphael Sinclair.The irony? She was not allowed to tell her blind husband that she was not Valerie but Merissa Aaron.On the day of Raphael's successful eye surgery, Marissa got to know that Valerie was back to take her rightful place as Sinclaire’s daughter-in-law.Marissa tried explaining to her husband that she was the one married to him, but he did not believe her. Instead of any more convincing, heartbroken Merissa decided to leave the city without telling him, her secret.Raphael Sinclair was the classic definition of drop-dead gorgeous and was the only heir of the Sinclair group of industries.What would he do when he came to know that all this time the woman who offered him, her love and her body was not Valerie but her younger sister Marissa Aaron?How would he react when he came to know that he was the father of the babies Marissa was carrying in her womb?Would he go after Marissa and win her back?And the million-dollar question!Would Marissa ever be able to forgive him and love him again?

Hyperthymesia. Those with this condition can remember every detail of their lives from something as significant as the world’s turning point to something as small and as insignificant as a minor fleeting thought. They cannot forget and their thirst for knowledge allows them to be considered genius in some senses.

Legend has it that Ji Yushi was this kind of genius.

In addition, it was said that he was gay and very beautiful.

As soon as the news that he was going to support Tianqiong’s seventh squad broke out, it sent everyone buzzing.

Everyone knew that the captain of the seventh squad, Song Qinglan, was a hoodlum and deeply homophobic.

He not only relied on his super-powerful abilities to become the dark horse on the battlefield in less than two years, but he also hates it when those at the top forces a flower vase* into his squad.

Sure enough, Song Qinglan announced in front of everyone, “Useful? Us brothers are going out there working ourselves to the bone, we don’t need a little genius who can only speedread quantum waves!”

Later.

The squad was forced into a dire situation during their mission.

That beautiful little genius calmly continued, every gunfire hitting the mark, his fighting power peaking.

Song Qinglan begged in front of everyone, “Adviser Ji, stay.”

In the end, he added, “I’ll work myself to the bone for you.”

*****

Ji Yushi had a secret.

He would often be awake at night, suffering from memory overload and recurring nightmares.

There was only one thing that could let him fall asleep peacefully.

And that was Song Qinglan.

*Flower vase: Someone who only looks pretty but can’t amount to much

The Bulwark Duke’s residence had fallen. On the day of the duke’s son’s wedding, all men in the family were imprisoned. In just three days, the patriarch and duke died. What was originally a joyful occasion became a depressing funeral.Shen Yijia had transmigrated as the unfortunate bride. By the time her husband was sent back home to her, he was crippled and heavily injured. Everyone said that this fallen family would never recover. Shen Yijia possessed a spirit liquid that helped her bring her husband back from the brink of death. When Song Jingchen woke up, he advised her to marry someone else instead. Shen Yijia stared at his handsome face and shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you.”On the way back to their hometown, they encountered bandits and even suicide warriors who tried to assassinate them at all costs. Shen Yijia patted her chest and vowed to her beautiful husband, saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” However, nosy people kept nagging at her, saying that a wife should be knowledgeable, reasonable, and virtuous. Was she supposed to help her husband pick out a concubine too? Shen Yijia was annoyed. As a modern woman, she couldn’t possibly get her husband a concubine! Her husband belonged to her alone!For the sake of earning money, she hunted in the mountains, battled scum, and took in disciples. Eventually, Shen Yijia’s life became smooth sailing.Many years later, they returned to the capital. Everyone assumed that Song Jingchen disliked having such a violent wife, and would soon divorce her to remarry. The young noblewomen rubbed their hands together in glee, waiting for Shen Yijia to leave so they could take her place. But as they waited and waited, they saw the Song Jingchen gently hold Shen Yijia’s hands right after the latter had beaten someone up. Song Jingchen asked worriedly, “Does it hurt?” [1v1 sweet love. A doting yet violent female lead vs a jealous two-faced male lead]

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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