A Little Monster With A Wife Is Amazing – CH8

Chapter 8: So He Was Just an Amnesiac Wife-Baby!

Jian Tang had always known that the essence of a “System-customized spouse” was matchmaking. But this kind of matchmaking was basically forced—for the System to get the other party to cooperate and accept the arrangement, “brainwashing” was a necessary step.

However, his wife had clearly been brainwashed a bit too thoroughly. Aside from basic identity information, he didn’t even know who he was!

This made Jian Tang think of himself—back when he had barely survived the Great Extinction and woke up in the charity relief space, he hadn’t remembered anything other than his name and his species. The confusion, the fear, the hesitation, and the cowardice of that time were still etched into his bones, even after so many years.

Case closed. No wonder his wife had been so fierce to him; wasn’t this just a textbook stress response?
He understood, he understood perfectly!

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t matter if you’ve forgotten,” Jian Tang said, his voice even softer, his gaze filled with encouragement. “You just need to know that you are my wife. I will protect you, take good care of you, stay with you always, and you can trust me completely.”

Compared to Jian Tang’s patient, guiding tone, the man’s expression was indescribable.

“I’m not,” he said bluntly.

“No, you are,” Jian Tang said with absolute earnestness. “You’ve just forgotten.”

“…I’m really not.”

“Alright, alright, let’s just pretend you aren’t for now.” Jian Tang used the tone one would use to coax a baby, being extremely reasonable. “I understand. You don’t need to rush, really, there’s no need to rush. We have plenty of time; we can take it slow.”

“…………”

Feng Xun stared blankly at the youth opposite him.
Jian Tang stared lovingly at the man opposite him.

—The System is so treacherous; this definitely counts as a brainwashing accident, right? Both of them thought simultaneously.
—At least I can hold it together. If it were anyone else dealing with this, they’d probably have gone insane. Both of them thought again at the same time.

Feng Xun pinched his brow, deciding to stop obsessing over this topic—arguing with someone who had been deeply brainwashed was pointless. Jian Tang smiled in an understanding way, deciding to gently steer away from the subject—it was just an identity tag, after all. Whether he called him “Wife,” “Zhang San,” or “Li Si,” the difference was negligible; his wife’s mood was what mattered most.

“Let’s eat,” Feng Xun said.
“Okay!” Jian Tang said.

Both of them stood up at the same time. Feng Xun walked in front, while Jian Tang followed behind like a little tail. The apartment was designed with a combined dining and kitchen area. Walking into the dining room, Jian Tang saw the food on the table at a glance—three dishes, one soup, and a large pot of rice, placed on a rotating heating tray that kept everything steaming hot.

Jian Tang was stunned: “D-did you make all of this?”

“Mm.” Feng Xun had already tasted it earlier, his expression flashing with a hint of unnaturalness. “I was in a rush; the taste is just average.”

“How could that be! It smells so fragrant and delicious!”

Jian Tang spared no effort to flatter him. Following his filter of “Amnesiac Wife-Baby,” he added a new one to the person before him—A virtuous, good wife with superb cooking skills! Yay!

He walked over happily, but before he could sit down, his gaze swept across the kitchen counter and he spotted a suspicious, reddish stain.

“?”

Jian Tang’s footsteps paused. With the extensive, “deep-as-an-ocean” experience he had from years of picking through dungeon trash, he could recognize it at a glance—it was a dried-up bloodstain. And not one that had dried naturally, but the kind resulting from something having been wiped away in an attempt to destroy the evidence, only to fail.

“…”

Jian Tang swallowed hard, his eyes beginning to dart around uncontrollably. His cursed, excellent eyesight allowed him to find even more traces of the “bloody scene”: there wasn’t just one bloodstain on the counter that hadn’t been wiped clean; there were several blood spots splattered on the kitchen ceiling; and the trash can was littered with many bloody wads of paper—so many, so many!

Feng Xun was already sitting at the dining table. He saw the youth, who had been lively and talkative just a moment ago, suddenly act as if he had been put on mute, not daring to let out a full breath, looking as if he were about to faint at any second.

“?”

Following the youth’s gaze, Feng Xun saw the bloodstains in the kitchen that hadn’t been cleaned up.
…Oh.

“I made chicken soup,” Feng Xun pointed to the soup on the table. “I bought a live chicken and slaughtered it; that’s chicken blood.”

Jian Tang wasn’t reassured; instead, he sucked in a cold breath.
“The little chicken died so miserably…”

Looking at the blood all over the kitchen, he could fully imagine the scale of the blood spray at the time. Were humans this bloody and violent when making chicken soup? It felt like that poor little chicken had died more miserably than his colleagues who ran dungeons daily…

Seeing the little strand of hair on the youth’s head stand up, clearly indicating he was terrified, Feng Xun explained with rare patience.

“That chicken wasn’t hacked to death.”
“Then?”
“It died of fright.”

“…………”

Wasn’t that even more terrifying!!

His terrifying wife was already terrifying enough that her “kill record” could be verified!!

The filters he had just added—”Amnesiac Little Pity,” “Gentle and Virtuous”—were all shattered to pieces. Jian Tang shivered as he moved to the dining table and sat down tremblingly.

Seeing his terrifying wife pick up her tableware, Jian Tang dared to pick up his own;
Seeing his terrifying wife begin to pick up food, Jian Tang dared to reach out and pick up food;
Seeing his terrifying wife take a bite and frown slightly, Jian Tang dared to take the next bite and slightly… Eh? This is actually pretty tasty.

Jian Tang had almost never eaten human food; he even ate the things supernatural monsters usually ate very rarely because, for him, maintaining basic survival needs only required drinking a little clean water every day. It was cost-effective and convenient—he was an incredibly easy-to-raise little monster.

Now that he suddenly tasted something flavorful—and it wasn’t expired food picked out of a trash pile—Jian Tang felt it was novel and fresh. From his initial slight restraint, he quickly became a “rice-devouring machine” with his head buried in his bowl.

Feng Xun managed to eat a few bites of the meal—which was oversalted and tasted sickeningly salty—and put down his chopsticks with a frown. I really should have just dumped it all. This isn’t food for human consumption.

Then he looked up and found that the person opposite him was eating so fast he was becoming a blur.

“?”

Feng Xun couldn’t help but stare for a while. The youth was eating with genuine, authentic gusto. It didn’t look like he was acting.

Hmm.

Feng Xun hesitated, picked up another mouthful of food, and put it in his mouth.
“…”

I really should have dumped it all—effective immediately.

Feng Xun decided to set aside his bowl and chopsticks, folded his arms, and observed the daily routine of a “normal human enjoying a normal (?) dinner.”

The youth was eating with great dedication and satisfaction, with visible happiness and joy. Feng Xun reflected briefly and realized he hadn’t seen a scene like this in a very long time. Or rather, he hadn’t dined with someone this relaxedly in a very long time.

When running dungeons, the atmosphere was tense and terrifying, with every second counting—no one had the mood to enjoy gourmet food. After leaving the dungeons, everyone returned to their own homes. The few Remnants with no homes to return to either holed up in their Safe Houses, or went to public entertainment venues to drink and throw away money until they went numb, each with their own lives and their own worries.

Occasionally, he would attend some parties, but no one went to parties just to have a simple meal. Even when close friends met up one-on-one, the focus of such small gatherings was never the unpalatable food entering their mouths.

To not be for any additional benefit, to truly focus one’s attention on the food in front of them, and to relaxingly enjoy a simple meal with the person beside them—such occasions and scenarios seemed to only happen at home.

—In a normal, mundane, ordinary-as-it-gets, normal human home.

Feng Xun watched silently. Perhaps because he noticed he hadn’t used his chopsticks for a long time, the person opposite him suddenly looked over, locking eyes with him.

“You… why aren’t you eating?”

The youth still had a grain of rice stuck to the corner of his lip, his voice timid—as if he were bashful about how he had just been devouring his food, or perhaps simply very afraid of him.

“I’m full,” Feng Xun said. “Why aren’t you drinking your soup?”
He noticed that the other party had eaten a lot of every dish, but hadn’t touched the pot of chicken soup at all.

“I don’t like eating meat… uh, it’s just a personal habit. I don’t mean that the soup you made isn’t good!”

So he’s a vegetarian.

Feng Xun silently noted this point, while correcting him calmly: “I am not called ‘Wife’.”

Jian Tang blinked: “Then… can I call you ‘Little Xun’?”
If I can’t call you ‘Wife’, I won’t. I can call you a nickname, right?

“No.”

Jian Tang: !

“Why not?” Jian Tang felt wronged. We’re already a family, and you’re still using the stiff, full name—how distant.

The man raised an eyebrow slightly: “Are we very close?”

Jian Tang: “…”

He, the wife he spent 999 years of hard grinding and a massive fortune to buy, actually said he wasn’t close to him! Not close!!

…Well, we’re actually not close.

“Fine.” Jian Tang withered entirely, the little strand of hair on his head drooping. “I won’t call you Little Xun, but you have to call me ‘Little Tang’.”
That sounds at least a little more intimate, even if it’s just to lie to myself.

“Understood, Jian Tang.”

“I said call me Little Tang!!”

“Mm, Jian Tang.”

“!!!”

Why is this wife-baby so disobedient! How hard to teach! QAQ

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