"Wife, can you help me massage my shoulders?"

Although I wanted to say this, I haven't learned this phrase yet.

Looking at her happy expression by the window, I felt that the tiredness I endured was worth it. Opening the language learning book that I filled with notes for four pages, I felt for the first time the immense depth of magic. Maybe I couldn't learn magic, but that wasn't a reason for me not to understand magic. It's just like in society, you may be like me, a kind and honest idiot, but in order to survive in this society, you must learn the hypocritical and dirty ways of the world.

I can't say that I love magic. Perhaps it's because I have lived in a society that is highly technological and information-driven for too long, and my imagination has been sent back to my childhood by various reports and work targets. When I actually entered that magical dream, my curiosity didn't expand as I expected.

Words I created like "magic meter" and "magic stone" felt empty and I didn't even know why I recorded the meanings and pronunciations of these words. Probably just because I want to keep living.

Closing the book, I hugged my wife who was standing by the window from behind. It was pitch black outside, with only the light from the witch's hut on the ground, yet she was still immersed in this simple night.

"What are you looking at?"

"What are they doing?"

"They're going to sleep."

"Yeah, they're going to sleep."

My wife rarely speaks like this, repeating my words as if sighing.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just thought of our home."

"Really? I kind of miss it too."

Yeah, not just home, but also the crooked eaves, the piled up fur, and the sheep that sacrificed everything for us.

"At this time, what would we be doing at home?"

"Well...probably going to sleep."

"Husband..."

Our hands were clasped together, slowly moving to her chest. Slipping my hand into the green gauze that she had been wearing for who knows how long, the soft sensation felt like freshly boiled tofu, faint and overlapping with the rhythm of our heartbeats. Sometimes, we desire each other's bodies not because of desire itself, but just because we feel comforted when we can touch our loved ones.

The night was very quiet, with no sound of insects. The friction of our clothes gradually filled the small hut in the tree, and on the narrow bed, I let her spread the coolness from the scales all over my body. After the candle went out, my breathing became particularly harsh.

As emotions rose, the small wooden house started to make a pleasant squeaking sound.

...

"I heard you find the squeaking sound pleasant?"

Uh, it's not an illusion, this house is about to collapse...

Damn, this house is really about to collapse!

"Wife, don't move!"

"What's wrong, husband?!"

"This wooden house has a problem!"

Right after I finished speaking, the house noticeably tilted to the right. Thanks to my quick reaction, I immediately crawled from the bed to the left side, and the balance of the small house was restored.

"Wife, don't move, don't move!"

"Okay, I won't move!"

My wife also noticed the tilting problem of the house and tightly held onto the end of the bed, not moving at all.

"Okay, okay...let's light a candle first..."

How do I light a candle! I don't even know where the matches are! And we're not wearing any clothes right now, suddenly feeling cold.

"Clothes, clothes."

"Where are they?!!"

"Wife, here are your clothes!"

I threw the green gauze that I had just been sniffing under her nose to my wife, and she threw something to me that I didn't know if it was a shirt or pants, and I just put it on without thinking.

"Hey! Hey!"

"It's okay, I got it, I got it..."

The movement of throwing the clothes just now was a bit big, and the house started to tilt to the left. I quickly took a few steps towards the center, and the tilting stopped.

I can't believe myself. I had sex with my wife in the small house, and then the house collapsed. It would be so embarrassing if this got out, but who would believe it if I said it! Oh my god...

With this situation, forget about sleeping. It's even difficult to maintain balance. The only choice is to escape, but my wife and I have to decide who goes out first. It's impossible to maintain balance like this, and it's very dangerous to stay in the house. If we go together, we stay together. At least if we both stay in the house, the small hut can hold on for a while.

To Lose Face or Life?

"Grandma Bonary! Help!"

"Witches, please help!"

Who cares about face when you're in mortal danger? Can face really fill one's stomach like dumplings?

I screamed at the top of my lungs, desperately calling for help. My wife followed suit, trying to balance herself while shouting. This was so dangerous; I swore never to stay in a treehouse like this again in my life.

Miraculously, the chaotic voices from below grew louder, and the cabin slowly regained its level position. My wife and I exchanged glances in the darkness, swallowed hard, and quickly ran to the tree trunk outside. I instructed her to hold on to me tightly, using all our strength to climb down from the tree.

A fire had been lit beneath the tree, and my wife and I stood there, bowing our heads as if we were criminals who had damaged public property.

"What's happened...? What's going on, Grandma Bonary?"

"Grandma Bonary, this... I... she... um..."

As I looked around at the witches who were still adjusting the balance of the treehouse using magic, I wiped my face with my hand and squatted down. My wife remained silent, her head still bowed. It was only then that I noticed my pants were actually my shirt, with a large portion of my buttocks exposed.

"I've never seen anything like this before... sigh, you two, really..."

Grandma Bonary smiled wryly and threw me a blanket. I quickly wrapped it around my lower body.

There was no way we could stay in the treehouse anymore, so I had to set up a tent. I didn't know what to say to the witches who had saved us, so I quickly pulled my wife into the tent to rest. After all the commotion earlier, I was exhausted, and I couldn't be bothered with the things left in the treehouse. I lay down and fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up early and carefully retrieved my glasses and mattress from the treehouse before quietly getting dressed and returning to the tent. My wife usually slept until almost nine o'clock, so I decided to take a walk around.

But first, I had to give water to the cow. Hmm, the well was over there.

"Good morning, Medusa's husband."

"Good morning, um... Lulu?"

"Hehe."

The short-haired little girl was giving water to my cow. Even though I wasn't into lolis, I still found this little girl cute. Generally, no one dislikes cute things, especially well-behaved and cute little girls.

"Look, this is a cow~"

"Yes, it is."

The big yellow cow chewed its cud, perhaps ruminating? Lulu imitated the cow, pouting her small mouth. It reminded me of the children I had known who grew up in the countryside. This innocence was something we adults would always envy.

There was nothing remarkable about the little girl's figure, and she was wearing a black cloak. But why do witches also wear black cloaks, just like the monsters? Wouldn't that cause confusion?

"Lulu, why do you wear this?"

"You mean this? I don't know, everyone wears it~"

"I see."

I patted the little girl's head, trying to behave like a sunny big brother. Lulu blinked her eyes and smiled at me. Although this little girl had taken our cart away, it was because of her that we found the Witches' House. I didn't know if the witches were also like Night Fall Town, with a history, but judging from Grandma Bonary's age, the Witches' House must have existed for several hundred years. I couldn't help but wonder how these few women managed to survive in the dangerous forest without any men. How did they reproduce?

I couldn't ask Lulu these questions, so I could only squat down and accompany her as she fed water to the big yellow cow.

"Oh, good morning... Mr. Medusa's husband."

Why did everyone call me "Mr. Medusa's husband"? Was that some kind of title?

I turned around and saw a witch holding a pottery jar.

"Hello, witch... miss?"

She nodded slightly, as if avoiding my gaze, and quickly walked away, clutching the pottery jar. I watched her go to the well next to the house, her slender arms starting to move as she used the rough rope to lower the bucket into the well.

"Do you need help?"

Maybe she wanted to repay me for last night's "lifesaving grace," so I ran over to help her fetch water. I had never used a well before, as nowadays it's all pressurized wells in the countryside. The handle was heavy; it was hard to imagine how a weak woman could use this primitive machine every day to get water.

"Ah, thank you."

"You can call me Raul."

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Raul."

Slowly, she poured the water from the bucket into the pottery jar she held in her hands, her gaze fixed on her forehead. A few stray strands of hair hung down from her forehead and slightly bounced on her nose before curling at the corners of her mouth. Although her eyes were not visible, the subtle movement of her eyelashes added to her inherent beauty. The pottery jar pressed against her cloak, pulling the fabric taut in front of her, concealing a small portion of the jar's outer edge with the curve of her chest.

As the water in the bucket dwindled, I failed to notice that I was getting closer and closer to her...