Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Daily Life
Jima woke up feeling something was off.
Her magical energy seemed to have depleted quite a bit. She speculated that if she could see the blue bar, it would probably show that she was down to half.
Did she do something good last night and go twist someone else’s dream?
Jima hurriedly opened her log to prevent herself from forgetting her dream content upon waking. Every time she entered a dream, she would make a note in the system log.
She flipped through it.
Surprisingly, there was nothing?
Could it be that the rumors were draining her magical energy? It should be, as a few days ago, when she spread the lie that she was kind, it consumed a bit of her magical power when it circulated, but not much.
Perhaps more people heard and accepted her lie, which increased the consumption.
If that were the case, draining magical power without being able to fool the Holy Hall’s detection system would be too unfair.
With her just-woken-up brain, Jima speculated but didn’t think much of it.
Today, Jima woke up particularly early. Outside the window, the horizon was painted in golden dawn light, falling on the fluffy white clouds, making a person crave food as if they wanted to open their mouth and take a bite; it would probably taste soft, sweet, and not greasy.
Thinking of food made Jima feel hungry. It seemed like ages since the last meal; regardless, she was hungry.
Just then, there was the sound of rustling blankets from under the bed. Jima crawled to the edge of the bed and was lucky enough to see George lazily turning over, avoiding the dawn light falling on his face.
Jima pulled out a pair of bare feet from the bright red quilt, sat on the edge of the bed, and looking at George’s bleary eyes, felt a burst of mischief. She lifted her fair little feet and gently kicked his shoulder, saying:
“Hey, Holy Knight, it’s time to get up and pray, and make breakfast.”
Jima didn’t dare to use too much force; George merely shrugged his shoulder, continuing to sleep.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
Jima rested her feet on George’s shoulder and gave him a nudge. George turned from lying on his side to lying flat on his back, the dawn light hitting his face. He squinted his eyes and turned back again.
Jima found it amusing and with a mischievous grin, gave him another kick.
“Wake up!”
“Stop it!”
This time, George suddenly opened his eyes, feeling grumpy. He instinctively grabbed Jima’s little foot, pulling it, causing Jima to lean backward, her hands quickly grabbing the bed sheet to keep her balance while her tail raised high between her legs, preventing her from falling off the bed.
“George, let go.”
George squeezed what he was holding, and Jima felt a ticklish pain shoot through her foot, causing her to jump up suddenly with a flushed face.
“Is that a foot?”
George finally realized what he was holding and quickly let go.
Jima regained her balance, pulled back her right leg, resting it on the bed, knee higher than her shoulder, rubbing her foot as she said:
“Do my feet stink?”
George sniffed his hand and said, “Not at all.”
“You actually sniffed.”
George curiously replied, “How would I know the scent without checking?”
“Hmph.” Jima didn’t want to argue too much, and noticing a hint of pink on his face while smelling the faint fragrance of peach blossom in the air, she tilted her head to look at him, smiling happily. With her five well-rounded toes moving up and down, she said, “Tsk, tsk, who would’ve thought the great Holy Knight actually enjoys stepping on things; do you prefer black or white?”
George’s expression darkened, and he suddenly sat up.
Jima quickly turned around, using all four limbs to crawl away quickly like a cockroach, but fate’s tail was caught.
“It hurts, can’t you grab differently?”
“As long as it works,” George said, pulling Jima closer to the edge of the bed.
The once cocky Jima, legs together and hands on her lap, obediently sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at George with an innocent expression.
Whether intentional or not, her nightgown was a bit loose, revealing her delicate collarbone and a bit of her fair skin below.
Jima blinked her innocent big eyes and said pitifully, “I just want to eat something.”
George’s grumpiness faded as he said, “Don’t do this again in the future.”
“What’s wrong? Is the method ineffective?”
Jima pondered to herself that if a lovely maid were to gently kick her awake from above with long legs, she would definitely be eager to pull the maid onto the bed and engage in a fierce wrestling match.
“This method carries a sense of insult,” George said, “Regardless of where you learned this from your inherited memories, it’s best to forget it.”
“That’s too serious,” Jima sniffed, “There’s not a hint of ambiguity in your approach, and I’m still hungry.”
George took a deep breath, calming down, and he wasn’t as flustered as during the first feeding.
As if to indicate he was seriously going to feed her, he moved a chair over, sat up straight, and looked at Jima directly, saying, “You can start now.”
Jima pouted and said, “This is utterly uninteresting.”
George asked, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, it’s just that you use moral shackles to lock up your desires tightly.” Jima covered her mouth with her hand and lazily yawned, “Or maybe our relationship isn’t close enough for you to let your guard down. I don’t know which it is. Forget it, just pay more attention to me today and give me some food.”
Saying this, Jima burrowed back under the covers, rolled a few times, and wrapped herself up in the quilt, continuing to sleep.
George felt he must have done something wrong, as he felt a twinge of guilt and pondered for a moment.
Twenty minutes later, Jima was immersed in a dream again. Deep in thought, George suddenly remembered something. He got up, reached for the little horns jutting out from Jima’s cocooned blanket, and yanked her out, saying:
“Jima, it’s time for morning reading.”
“I want to sleep.”
The warm quilt instantly vanished, and the cold air drove away all remnants of sleepiness. Jima sat up and said, “You must be doing this on purpose.”
“Perhaps half of the time.”
“You admit it!”
Reluctantly, Jima got out of bed. This should be a typical day in their travel routine.
By evening.
A group of sailors found George and recited the doctrine completely. After George distributed the money, the sailors did not disperse but petitioned:
“Holy Knight, please let us convert.”
George said, “I told you to think for three days two days ago; it’s only the second day.”
“We’ve come to a decision,” the little bug said. “The sea god is capricious and heartless like the ocean, often smashing people and boats together and sinking them into the sea. After believing for so many years, our lives remain difficult; it’s better to believe in the God of Dawn, at least that would allow us to unite and have hammocks to sleep in.”
George shook his head, saying, “Three days.”
“Is it because our faith isn’t steadfast?”
“Besides the demons that infiltrate the church, I haven’t heard of anyone who became steadfast in their faith after only a few days of understanding the doctrine,” George said. “Today the sea is calm. If you convert and tomorrow the sea god gets angry, stirring up a storm, will you curse me for pushing you to convert?”
“I would not do that.”
Another sailor said, “I plan to believe in both; normally I will believe in the God of Dawn, but when at sea, I will believe in the sea god.”
“I just hope you think it through and don’t act impulsively out of a moment’s heat.” George shook his head and said, “The sea is not the domain of our Lord.”
“Then why do you deign to come among us and spread the doctrine?”
“I am merely doing good and spreading the glory of our Lord,” George said, “If it were on land, I would gladly replace the priest to help you convert.”
That night, in the dark ship’s hold.
Before sleeping, the sailors lay in their hammocks, chatting.
“Does Lord George look down on us?”
“Don’t we have the right to believe in the God of Dawn?”
“Don’t talk nonsense, he’s a good person.”
The voices gradually quieted.
The little bug secretly climbed out of the hammock, lit the oil lamp, and suddenly saw several sailors already out of bed. They were facing a crude emblem of the God of Dawn engraved on the bulkhead, bowing deeply in worship.
“You guys?”
The sailors turned around and said, “We’ve wanted to convert for a long time.”
The little bug said, “I’ll join too.”
After a while, dark clouds in the sky gradually gathered…
