Section Seven: The Matters Weighing on Young Hearts (Part Two)

Amangor revealed his second trouble to Wei Wujie: Cecily was no longer the same as before.

Amangor's father and Cecily's father had once worked in the same factory and had both become technicians there. Regarding the factory, Amangor further explained to Wei Wujie. The factory his father worked in referred to those military workshops, built by various nations or powerful forces across the continent, usually as subsidiaries of magic academies or alchemy laboratories. Their typical designation would be something like “Second Subsidiary Workshop of X Magic Academy” or “First Arsenal of the Royal Laboratory.” These were products of the magical era; as merchants began to take the stage, even the once lofty magicians bowed their heads. Merchants lured some magicians with wealth, funding their research in exchange for partial cooperation. They used money to select qualified magic apprentices, signed explicit contracts, and sponsored them to become magicians, hoping for their future service. Those without the opportunity to become magicians were reduced to tools for the magic workshops, serving as middle-level managers or technicians, or even as the lowest workers, selling their labor for money.

Amangor's hometown lay near the Gaul plains. During a raid by a family of beastmen, his grandfather lost his life, and his mother was crushed to death in the chaos. At that time, Amangor had just been born. Having lost their land, the family’s eldest brother took the young Harrison to the capital's outskirts, where, in order to survive, he joined a magic workshop. Ordinary people without any talent could only become the lowest workers, watching as those who registered alongside them later appeared as enchanters, while they themselves dealt only with parts and metal. This was the lifelong regret of Amangor’s father. It drove him to study diligently; though he never mastered magic, he acquired mechanical knowledge and eventually became a technician. Yet he always hoped his son could become a magician, feeling inherently inferior to those magic technicians. After being rescued from a major explosion in the workshop, he stubbornly believed, in his dying moments, that if he had possessed magic, he could have defended his family and land.

Because they had worked together, Cecily’s father, Mr. Hegel, was always amiable toward his colleague’s son. Amangor, before overcoming his hesitation to propose, always felt himself a pauper—he believed that so long as he solved the problem of money, Mr. Hegel and Madame Seraph would be happy to see Cecily walk the red carpet with him.

But now, things had changed dramatically. Mr. Hegel had apparently made significant improvements to the musket, becoming chief technician of the workshop. Rumor had it that the innovation caught the attention of Prime Minister Warrenheit, and the government intended to purchase it and offer Mr. Hegel a position in the military. Uncle Harrison, who worked in the Ministry of Maritime Affairs, overheard this secret and worried that Amangor’s wish would not be so easily fulfilled, adding a new layer of anxiety for the young man atop his financial concerns.

“I thought it was something much more serious,” Wei Wujie sighed with relief. As long as Cecily hadn’t married, it was not an insurmountable issue. In Daoist cultivation, predestined connections are extremely important, which was why Wei Wujie was so determined to help Amangor fulfill his wish; otherwise, it could easily turn into an inner demon, resurfacing during a breakthrough and affecting his state of mind. However, no matter what, he couldn’t bring himself to snatch another man’s wife and deliver her to his friend’s bed. Even if he did so to fulfill a karmic bond, it would only create new ones—a futile exchange.

“As long as she’s not married, it’s easy enough. If need be, I’ll just bring her to your room,” Wei Wujie winked. For him, such things were not difficult.

He did not expect this to be met with immediate opposition. Amangor shook his head firmly. “We can’t do that, Wei. You don’t understand. I love her so much—I can’t let her suffer any harm. Not even for love. If you do this, maybe we’ll have one night of happiness, but it will bring her lifelong pain. Her father would think her shameful, others would say she lacks upbringing. If she became pregnant, it would be even worse.”

Wei Wujie scratched his head, perplexed. “What’s so shameful about it? Even in our Far East, where customs are stricter than on the Western Continent, there was a songstress who fell for one of our elders, eloped with him overnight, creating a romantic legend known as the Night Flight of Hongfu. There was also a young lady from the Cui family who fell for a handsome man like you, communicated through her maid, and eventually became his wife.”

Amangor was dumbfounded, almost swayed by Wei Wujie’s words. If Mr. Hegel truly forbade it, perhaps he and Cecily could elope with Wei’s help. He trusted his friend’s abilities—after all, even the young princess of the Feysians had been caught by him. They could return to the Gaul plains and become a farming couple. Yet in the end, his noble character and prior vows prevailed. Amangor admitted to Wei Wujie that the problem lay within himself; he always hoped that his marriage to Cecily would receive everyone’s blessing and recognition, that they would walk the red carpet proudly, swear before the priest to stay together for life, and have a brood of children. Not as Wei described—waking up one morning to find a smooth-skinned maiden in his bed, then months later forced to pressure his father-in-law into accepting the marriage, being pointed at and whispered about during the wedding.

If Cecily were hurt, the young man would certainly suffer more than she.

Wei Wujie let out a long breath, for the first time doubting whether his decision was correct. It seemed that helping Amangor fulfill this wish and resolve the karmic bond was not as easy as he had thought. The only consolation was that Wei Wujie himself was not especially interested in the affairs of love.

While Wei Wujie was troubled by Amangor’s predicament, he was unaware that, though he cared little for love, someone had placed him in their heart.

Since leaving the Celeste, the princess of the Sirens found her former pleasures—like riding on sea bats to patrol, stopping human ships for sport—had lost all appeal, even the delicious deep-sea oysters failed to excite her. Only when she thought of that exasperating yet somewhat lovable man from the Middle Kingdom did her heart feel warmed, her graceful body tremble ever so slightly, and she sometimes imagined being embraced by him, even dreaming once that she lay in his arms.

Helen often recalled the Far Eastern tales Wei Wujie had told her. She would lie atop a great dolphin, prop her chin, and gaze toward the distant sea. But on her own, she could not go to the Far East; she was not yet an adult, unable to swim across such vast oceans, and her father and brother would never permit her to take a sea bat so far. Most importantly, she hoped Wei would accompany her—not that she would make the journey alone.

As for why Wei Wujie must accompany her, Helen found herself a reason: ever since that night when she was frightened by Leia and Wei Wujie protected her, she’d developed a sense of psychological security. The willful princess acted entirely on her likes and dislikes, paying no mind to the fact that Wei Wujie had once abducted her onto a ship.

She even believed this was the predestined connection Wei Wujie had mentioned during their late-night conversations.

With only three days left until her coming of age, the princess finally resolved to visit her uncle, the infamous Siren Madman Hermes.

After reaching adulthood, he had once fallen in love with a human woman on the shore, transformed himself, and lived in the human world for ten years. It was said he returned to the sea with a broken heart, and ever since had secluded himself in his palace, where others secretly called him a madman, though he styled himself an artist.