Chapter 235: Hold On, Don’t 404!

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"Come on, touch it here~" 

Furong stood on tiptoe and leaned her body over the kitchen counter, bringing herself closer to Harry. 

"Touch what?" 

Harry was almost undone by the straightforwardness of her words. Testing an old man with something like this? Who could hold up under such pressure? 

"Of course…" Furong lowered her gaze after noticing where Harry was looking. "Not right now." 

"Then tonight?" Harry asked, his breath quickening with excitement, his eyes wide. 

"I'll be going home tonight." 

"But your home's empty." 

"Even so, you're not staying there." 

"How can you say that?" 

Though a tiny bit disappointed, Harry used the few moments of playful banter to finally notice something slightly different about Furong. 

"Did you put on makeup?" 

He reached out and gently touched her face, which barely showed any signs of makeup. To his surprise, his fingers collected a fine layer of powder. While most people wear makeup to hide imperfections, Furong seemed to be doing the opposite. 

"So much powder! Did you learn to 'wall scrape' from Madam?" Harry teased, laughing. "But I have to admit, it's impressive. If I hadn't had good eyesight, I might not have noticed." 

"You're the one who learned to scrape walls!" Furong pouted and shot him a glare, but her stern face quickly softened into a smile. "It's thick, isn't it? Feels more suffocating than wearing a mask, but it works, right? At least now, people who look at me won't need a powerful Forgetfulness Charm to erase their memories." 

"What about your hair?" Harry noticed another change. Although her long silver hair was still there, it didn't seem to carry any magical aura. 

"It's fake. Nice hat, right? I spent ages picking it out." 

"And your hands?" 

"I'm wearing ultra-thin gloves. Can you tell?" 

"Please don't tell me that the abyss I've been staring into is also…" 

"Yep, it's all special effects." 

"I don't believe you, unless I get to check for myself." 

"You're not getting into bed tonight!" 

"Then let's sleep on the floor together?" 

As they reached the dining area, Nicolas hadn't even had a bite of his meal when he was unexpectedly fed a mouthful of "newly-minted dog food." Having never been so humiliated, the old man immediately kicked Harry, sending him flying two feet into the air, and he landed with a loud "woof," sprawling out on the floor. 

"Eating requires a proper eating posture." Nicolas straightened his collar, adopting the demeanor of a traditional scholar. 

"Have you never heard the saying, 'Beauty is a feast for the eyes'?" 

"Well, then don't eat the vegetables later." 

"My girlfriend worked hard to cook me dinner, so why shouldn't I eat it? You wait and see, I'll make sure you don't get any food." 

"That was my wife who cooked! You little brat, who gave you the nerve to mooch off my meal?" 

"Big sis! The old man won't let me eat!" 

Harry, grinning with his white teeth shining, didn't bother arguing with Nicolas. Why hold back when he could call for backup to help defeat this grumpy old man? 

"Nico." 

As soon as Mrs. Le May spoke, the previously sour-faced Nicolas switched to a smiling, flattering expression and hurried over. 

"Go on, go on, don't stand in the way. Harry's such a good kid, you're old enough, don't you think you should make some room for him?" 

Though nudged aside by his wife with a long-handled ladle, Nicolas wasn't upset. Instead, he laughed cheerfully. "This brat's got a dog's temper. If he doesn't learn to change, he'll suffer outside later." 

"He can change, but not by using force. Didn't you see how high he got kicked just now? You really didn't hold back." 

"Harry." Mrs. Le May turned and called out. "Later, you and Furong can each pick something you like from Nicolas' collection to take with you." 

"Wise and mighty elder sister!" 

Harry raised both hands high in submission, "For the world's best sister, I'll spin you a tune." 

Grabbing a bottle from the nearby wine cabinet, Harry uncorked it and drank it down in one gulp. Nicolas, already a little uneasy, clutched his chest at the sight, his voice trembling as he said, "I've been preserving that for six hundred years…" 

"The ones in the cellar? Do you think you'll drink all of it in this lifetime? Look at you being so stingy," Mrs. Le May quipped with no trace of sympathy. To her, money or anything that could be bought with it was in surplus at home. She'd sip a little wine before and after meals, but the collection in the cellar could last her another five hundred years without even needing a refill. 

"But this one's different. This stuff isn't for young people." 

Nicolas' expression mixed a little sadness with a hint of mischief, "It's medicinal wine, made with one thousand and eighty types of herbs. I got it during a technical exchange at Mount Longhu years ago. The Taoist priest gave it to me. It's not something for kids to drink, especially for those with a strong spirit." 

"It's fine, I've been wanting to swim in the Arctic tonight anyway. I was just looking for something to warm me up." 

Already feeling a slight warmth spreading through his body, Harry stubbornly spoke. The strength of this drink was no joke. 

"Harry, are you okay?" 

Though she didn't fully understand what Nicolas had said, Furong couldn't help but feel something was off with Harry, especially with his eyes beginning to redden, making him look almost predatory. 

"I'm fine." Harry quickly turned his gaze away, then stepped slightly farther from Furong. Mentally, he was chanting calming spells, trying to keep himself in control. 

She's still a child, and I am too. Not now, I can't... It's a direct 404 if I do! 

With immense willpower, Harry clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. 

"Liz (Ice)" 

Frost began to crawl up his body, and the temperature around him dropped drastically as the redness in his eyes began to fade. 

"I'm fine, really." 

"When is dinner? I'm about to starve." 

The cold air radiating from Harry made Furong instinctively hug her arms, shivering. Seeing this, Harry subconsciously lessened the intensity of the frost. A six-pointed snowflake formed in his palm, and the sharp chill was contained. If no one touched it, they wouldn't even feel the biting cold. 

"Lucky little brat." 

Nicolas muttered under his breath as he glanced at the snowflake in Harry's hand. 

"It'll be ready soon." Mrs. Le May smiled, waving at Furong. "Come, dear, try this soup and see if it suits your taste." 

"It's so delicious!" 

Furong closed her eyes happily, her brief words bringing a sweet smile to Mrs. Le May's face. 

Before long, a French full-course meal was laid out on the table. To satisfy Harry's large appetite, all the dishes today were specially made in larger portions. After being hungry all afternoon, Harry dug in enthusiastically, especially enjoying the wine-braised Gallic chicken. He was eating so much that sweat poured down his face. 

The warmth inside him, which had subsided a little, surged up again as the meal came to an end. Hastily saying his goodbyes, Harry didn't stop for a second, not slowing down until he reached the garden in the front yard, where he finally exhaled a steaming breath. 

"I can do ten of those tonight!" 

(End of chapter)