The Mandarin Duck Red Thread Burns - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

For a prince who lived in Cloud Palace, that was probably the most vicious insult he could think of.

To me, though, it was nothing more than a drizzle.

After all, I grew up in a Human Race village.

Did he have any idea how filthy farmers could get when they cursed?

He did not.

He had no idea that once those little mouths opened, eight out of every ten words in a heated verbal duel were reproductive organs.

Nor did he know that if you lost, your parents and your entire family tree would be dragged into tragic crossbreeding with small animals and spiraled straight into the heavens.

Our village was blessed with outstanding people and fertile land. To protect their family trees, everyone had to give it their all.

Something like “ugly human” was the sort of thing people said on the hillside, by the well, in the sorghum fields.

As flirting.

Huh? From that angle, my prince husband and I actually had a pretty good relationship.

Grinning, I tapped the two names written side by side on the marriage contract, straightened the red wedding character at the door, and set the teapot that had rolled to my feet back onto the table.

A faint smell of rotting wood drifted over.

Only then did I get a clear look at my proud and noble husband on the bed.

Chapter 2

He was not lounging there as casually as I had imagined.

The man on the bed barely had one shoulder propped against the bedpost, the tips of his toes braced against the floor. His powerless wings could not fold back and had fallen to the ground.

There was nowhere for him to put his weight in that position. One slip, and he would slide right down into a wretched heap.

Some nasty prankster had set the Feathered Race’s First Prince, who had once soared through the skies, right here like a malicious joke.

But the star of the joke was still struggling with all his might to preserve his dignity, even though cold sweat streamed down his temples and even the feathers by his ears were soaked through.

“Don’t come over… Don’t come over… I’m warning you… I!”

Tsk. Like a bird caught in a net, thrashing on the brink of death.

I strode over, slipped one arm around his back, supported his hips with the other, and scooped him up nice and steady.

The noble Big Birdman went silent. He turned his head away and pressed his lips together, the pure white feathers spilling from his sleeves and trailing on the floor like clouds hanging from the sky.

I settled him properly on the bed and said softly,

“Husband, I can’t go back.”

“If I go back, I’ll die.”

The Big Birdman lifted his head and looked at me. His beautiful eyes trembled slightly, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something.

But in the end, he only lowered his lashes and shifted aside, making room for me.

Chapter 3

Our wedding night was cold and deserted.

The beautiful Big Birdman beside me clearly did not like me very much. Ever since I climbed into bed, he had gone stiff all over, eyes shut, like a block of wood.

It made me a little nervous.

My husband was so rigid. It was like he was about to die.

So I could only reach over and touch his chest every now and then.

After I touched him a few times, a hint of color rose to my husband’s face.

Hey, he’s alive!

I had no idea why putting my hand on his chest made the blood return to his face, but since it worked, I did not mind leaving it there a little longer.

After a while, the Big Birdman fell asleep.

A while after that, his head was buried in the hollow of my neck.

Holding the warm bundle in my arms, I could not help but examine this Big Bird closely.

Behind his ears? There were feathers there, like delicate little ornaments, slightly damaged and lying meekly against his hair.

What about his arms? Fine white feathers extended from his sleeves, smooth to the touch like the best silk.

Where exactly did he not have feathers? I quietly pulled open his clothes.

Wow. Pure white feathers grew from his elbows and spread down to his forearms. His exposed back was smooth and fair as snow, but near his tailbone, there were a few sparse, short downy feathers.

That wasn’t right. The Feathered Race had always revered magnificent, gorgeous tail feathers above all else. As the First Prince, how could he…

Just as I was thinking, the person in my arms fluttered his lashes and let out a soft hum.

Guilty as a thief, I hurriedly pulled his clothes back into place, flopped onto the pillow, and pretended to sleep.

I kept pretending, and somehow actually fell asleep.

When I woke again, it was deep into the night. What woke me was wave after wave of trembling.

Damn it! Did Cloud Palace have mice too?

I flipped over and sprang up. Not a mouse. My husband.

This already pitiful Big Bird looked like he was about to shatter.