Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem-Chapter 808: Sleeping in the Cold

She didn’t give him time to make a scene. Once they stepped outside and the shack door closed behind them with a loud thud, she exhaled and turned to him, still holding onto his sleeve.

"Every time I see you interact with a new thing, I keep being forced to accept that you truly suffer from brain damage- I mean, amnesia. You really don’t know how these types work, do you, Uncle?" she said with a smirk, though her tone stayed quiet.

"Old men like that—and especially the grumpy, crippled war-vet types? They’re all about the strict master-disciple thing. There’s no chatting, no bantering, no small talk. If he says something, you do it. No questions. Otherwise, he’ll probably see it as disrespect and throw you out. In his head, he’s doing you a favor by accepting you as a student. You have no grounds to speak back."

Quinlan gave her a sidelong glance. "He told me to sleep outside."

She shrugged, clearly not surprised by the old man’s attitude. "Then we sleep outside. Remember, Uncle. Every word is a test. That’s how they do it. If he says ’sleep outside,’ and you stay inside? He’ll think you’re lazy, arrogant, or not ready to undergo his training regimen. Why should he bother with a cheeky brat who won’t even listen to his word? And trust me; if you so much as act like you’re above his teachings, he’ll stop teaching you in a heartbeat."

Quinlan looked back at the shack. The oil lamp inside still flickered through the window slats. The old man was likely back in his meditative pose, unmoving, unworried about the two youths standing in the cold night.

He exhaled slowly, then looked back down at Feng. "And you just assumed all that?"

Feng gave a proud nod. "My old master was the same. Grumpier, if anything. Just... less scary."

"...Great."

She let go of his sleeve, took a few steps to the side of the shack where the hill offered some wind cover, and plopped down onto the dirt like it was nothing. "Come on. It’s not like you’ve never camped out before, right?"

Quinlan followed, muttering under his breath, "Not right outside my master’s house like an abandoned dog."

Feng grinned, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. "Then start getting used to it, disciple."

He gave her a long look, then finally lowered himself to sit beside her.

The night air was cold. The ground was hard. But something about it—about this moment—felt like the beginning of something unique.

Quinlan had fallen asleep quickly. Although he had never slept in such uncomfortable conditions before, his body found it easy to adapt. He wasn’t cold, nor did he feel his body ache from the sitting position in which he had entered slumber.

But sometime before dawn, he stirred to a trembling weight pressed against his shoulder.

A hand clutched his arm like a lifeline. He cracked one eye open.

Feng was holding onto him, trembling like a leaf in a storm. Her teeth were chattering, her breath fogging in the cool night air.

"Didn’t you just say you’re used to this?" Quinlan asked smugly, voice still a bit rough with sleepiness.

"I-I-It’s so cold...!" Feng Jiai whined pitifully, her lips pressed into a thin line as she tried—and failed—not to shiver violently.

Quinlan blinked, then furrowed his brows. "How is that even possible? We’re in Vulkaris. Shouldn’t this be warmer than your home nation? I would assume the nation of water is colder..."

"N-Naryssia has a mild temperature," she mumbled between two sneezes. "Warm currents. Constant moisture. In Vulkaris, the days are hot, but the nights—ugh! The nights are like death wrapped in desert wind!"

He gave her an incredulous look, then sighed. "Seriously... What am I gonna do with a brat like you? I guess I can think of you as a test dummy for my daughters."

Without waiting for permission, he reached over and slid an arm behind her back, grabbing her by her narrow waist. She let out a yelp of surprise as he easily lifted her into his lap.

"W-What are you doing!?" she squawked.

"I’m warming you up," he replied, tugging the black folds of his eastern combat robe over her like a blanket. He wrapped both arms around her and pressed her into his chest. "There. Any better?"

Feng went stiff immediately. Completely silent. Which was concerning. She was no longer trembling, so it must’ve been something else.

Quinlan blinked as he realized what was going on. "Wait. You don’t seriously think I’d molest you, do you?"

She still didn’t reply. Her breathing was calm now, but her entire body radiated caution.

"Oh, come on! I already told you that I have a harem of eight gorgeous babes. I’m not some predator who would go after unconsenting women, much less a flatchested kid like you."

"Uncle...! I hate you!" she hissed before whispering under her breath, "It’s just a matter of time, Feng Jiai... Just a matter of time..."

But she didn’t pull away. In fact, she leaned into him more, her hands gently clutching his hands that were holding onto her. She felt instantly warmed up.

Quinlan smirked and leaned his head back against the wooden wall, gazing up at the stars in the clear night sky. "Thought so."

"...Still doesn’t mean you’re not shady," she mumbled. But the edge in her voice was gone.

"I’m a certified gentleman."

"Hah!" Feng Jiai couldn’t help but snort at his words, letting Quinlan know she didn’t believe him for a single second. Quinlan shook his head, wondering why no one tended to agree with him on this point. Besides Blossom and his grandmother.

In that manner, the two of them sat wrapped in each other’s warmth, and him half-awake and steady like a stone. Quinlan knew he had to be ready to defend himself at a moment’s notice.

The cold still lingered in the air, but wrapped together, it felt more like an afterthought.

Eventually, Feng’s breathing evened out. She fell asleep in his arms, light and calm. It seemed like she had no worries in the whole world.

Dawn broke with a dull hue behind the hills, and with it came the harsh clank and whir of metal limbs. The distinct hiss of compressed air and the slow grind of gears dragging metal filled the silence of the early morning.

Quinlan opened one eye to see the old man standing just outside the shack, framed by the weak morning light.

The old man said nothing. But the fact that they weren’t being told to leave must mean that they’d passed this test of his.

Quinlan exhaled quietly and stood, bracing for whatever came next.