Even a Tentacle Monster Cries When His Wife Leaves - Chapter 1

For the past few months, I had been having the same dream over and over.

In it, my body was a fragile little boat adrift on a storm-tossed sea.

Soft tentacles appeared from nowhere, lifting me gently, then dropping me hard, as though they had found an amusing new toy.

Eventually, they seemed to tire of playing and began to explore.

They settled softly against my waist and stomach, then slipped beneath the hem of my pajamas with practiced ease, inching upward.

I frowned in discomfort and arched my back, trying to get free, but my body went weak instead of obeying me.

Just as my pajamas were about to lose the battle, I summoned all my strength and grabbed at myself.

I pulled out a pale pink tentacle carrying a faint fragrance.

It wriggled happily between my fingers, cool and slippery. Its tiny suckers even gave my fingertip a little kiss, as if trying to win me over.

I gasped in disbelief.

All the blood drained from my face.

With a scream, I bolted upright—and saw my own familiar ceiling.

Frantically, I felt around my clothes.

My pajamas were neatly in place.

No tentacles. No slippery sensation. No feeling of being violated.

It had all been a dream.

Before I could catch my breath, light flooded my vision.

A large hand settled on my back and patted it. A man’s gentle voice, slightly husky, sounded beside my ear.

“Bad dream?”

As I remembered that horrible dream, my nose stung and I felt close to tears.

I rolled into his arms.

“Honey, I dreamed about so many tentacles.”

“They kept wrapping around me. They were so disgusting. So, so disgusting…”

“…”

Perhaps I imagined it, but I thought I felt Yan Shu stiffen.

I sniffed and looked up.

His expression was perfectly normal as he watched me.

In the dim light, I couldn’t read anything in those deep blue eyes.

After a few seconds of looking at each other, he resumed patting my back as though nothing had happened, his hand moving again and again.

“It was only a dream,” he said quietly. “Don’t be scared.”

I nodded hard and clung to him.

Then I realized how cold his body was.

It was a chill that seemed to seep from deep inside his bones, cold enough to make me want to shiver instinctively.

The air-conditioning wasn’t even on.

“Honey, why are you always so cold? Are you feeling chilly?”

Yan Shu pressed his lips together.

His long lashes lowered, then lifted again quickly. His voice remained measured.

“No, I’m not cold. My body temperature just runs low.”

“It’s still early. Get some more sleep. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

I checked the time and immediately forgot my doubts.

“Right. Let’s sleep.”

I flopped back beneath the covers.

The man behind me didn’t move for a long time.

He remained in the same position, one arm suspended motionless in midair, his eyelashes trembling slightly.

I noticed nothing unusual and drifted into a deep sleep.

Half-conscious, I shifted backward out of habit until my back nestled snugly against Yan Shu’s chest.

“…”

At last, he moved.

He lay down close against me. The arm hanging in the air lowered and slowly circled my waist.

It tightened, inch by inch.

Then a satisfied sigh sounded above my head.

I had rescued Yan Shu from the roadside.

The young, beautiful man looked about 1.9 meters tall, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and a striking air about him.

He remembered nothing but his name. His white shirt was filthy, but his eyes shone like sapphires.

He gazed at my face with an innocent expression.

“Miss, may I ask who you are?” he asked softly.

I looked at his exquisitely handsome face, and vanity got the better of me.

To this beautiful man—someone whose path should never have crossed mine—I told an outrageous lie.

“My name is Xu Yangyang. I’m… your wife.”

It was the first time I had ever done anything so out of line.

My heart pounded with nerves.

If he asked even one question, I thought, I would probably confess everything.

But Yan Shu didn’t question me.

He frowned, caught between belief and doubt.

The seconds ticked by.

Slowly, his fine brows relaxed. He looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings and finally chose to believe my lie.

“All right.”

I let out a discreet breath of relief.

For some reason, I grew bolder.

Shamelessly, I invented an almost perfect love story: how he always indulged me, how much he loved me, how he all but wanted to tear out his heart and lay it in my hands.

With no memories of his own, Yan Shu believed me, again and again.

Under my coaching, he went against his naturally aloof disposition and worked hard to become a model husband who obeyed my every wish.

Except in bed.

Everywhere else, he did as I said.

Little by little, I almost forgot that all this happiness had begun with a lie.

With Yan Shu indulging me, I even started forgetting my place.

I bossed him around every day, practically ready to climb onto his shoulders and rule from there.

Later that night, I dreamed about the tentacles again.

This time, though, they didn’t come near me.

They huddled in a ball far away, hugging themselves.

They looked so hurt and pitiful.