Chapter 539: Chapter 52 Male Concubine
One day, at the Undying Club.
Everything was as usual, music filled every corner of the bar, Serey was wearing the floral dress with a slit up to her navel, mixing drinks while swaying her body, Bode hummed a song as he wiped the tables and chairs, Wei’Er found a cozy spot and curled up; she usually could sleep for an entire day.
By the way, at that time, Sai Zong hadn’t left yet. He bounced around by Bode’s side endlessly, hoping Bode would play a fetching game with him.
Bologue downed his glass of orange juice in one go and asked the tipsy Palmer beside him.
"Speaking of it, Palmer, you always mention your fiancée, but you’ve never talked about her."
Palmer asked, "What do you mean?"
"What kind of person is she?"
Bologue was very curious about what kind of person could actually be liked by Palmer, this oddball, and what kind of person could accept Palmer’s affection.
Palmer was silent for a few seconds, stared at his reflection in the wine glass, and managed to say a single sentence after a while.
"An amazing person," he then emphasized, "truly amazing!"
"That’s how you describe everything you like," Bologue said, "Be more specific."
Bologue usually wouldn’t ask Palmer such personal questions, but he suddenly thought of it today, and this urge for knowledge grew stronger and stronger.
Among the many people Bologue knew, Palmer was considered extremely interesting and unique, which made Bologue even more curious about Vasilina.
For a long time, Bologue always felt that the so-called "fiancée" was just Palmer’s stubborn excuse to not admit his life’s failures.
Palmer would call his fiancée at a fixed time every week, Bologue never heard what they specifically talked about, but after the call ended, no matter how desolate Palmer looked before, he would be revitalized, like a car filled up with gas.
As time went by, the image of "fiancée" in Palmer’s words grew more real in Bologue’s mind. He felt that with Palmer’s brain, it was unlikely he could round out a lie so perfectly, leaving only one possibility.
This guy really does have a fiancée.
Bologue couldn’t help but marvel at what kind of extraordinary woman could subdue this freak Palmer.
"Vasilina, huh..."
Palmer hesitated, not knowing where to start.
Bologue guided Palmer, "How did you two meet?"
"Our encounter was simple, there was family interaction, she lived in Wind Source Highlands, so we knew each other since childhood."
"And then?"
"Then... actually, at first, I always treated her as a good buddy."
"Why a good buddy?"
Palmer was slightly drunk, "Because she really looked and acted like a good buddy!"
"Give an example?"
Bologue was intrigued, he felt Palmer and Vasilina’s story must be more interesting than he imagined.
"For instance, she has a peculiar hobby, likes combat, boxing, wrestling, and all kinds of martial arts, of course, this probably relates to her family tradition, but for it all to fall on a little girl, it’s still too strange."
Palmer mentioned this and suddenly shuddered, seemingly recalling some unpleasant memories.
"Initially, I met her through fighting thanks to this damn hobby of hers, as one might expect, I got beaten."
Palmer slammed the bar top, causing the wine glasses to emit a sharp ringing sound.
"Who was I then, the heir of the Clarks! Except for my parents, who dared to beat me like that!
But because I was the heir, calling others to help me fight was just too lame, so I started training myself, hoping one day to win!"
Bologue asked, "And what happened?"
Palmer’s ignited spirit deflated, "Lost... never won."
Bologue struggled to manage his expression, trying hard not to break into a smile.
"Since I couldn’t beat her, I couldn’t escape either... after that, my relationship with Vasilina became very awkward, but living in the same place, we often bumped into each other," Palmer said, "Even though I couldn’t hit her, I was really quick on my feet, Vasilina couldn’t catch up with me."
"Despite being good in fighting, her endurance was quite poor, she’d need a break and to catch her breath after running a few steps," Palmer reminisced about that joyful yet not-so-joyful childhood, "I found a way to handle Vasilina which was to punch and run; she couldn’t catch me and could only stand there seething with rage."
Love born from fights, that very much suited Palmer’s style, Bologue continued to listen.
"But this tactic didn’t always work, sometimes if I ran too slow, I’d be caught by Vasilina’s coat and slammed to the ground, or blocked and endured a beating.
That’s how it went, fighting since childhood, gradually the hostility lessened, and we’d play together, even spar occasionally."
Palmer recalled various childhood experiences, still sleeping when Vasilina banged the door violently to wake him, excitedly telling him she learned a new wrestling move.
At these times, Palmer would give nonchalant praise, followed by Vasilina grabbing him to let Palmer experience the new wrestling move firsthand.
"Love born from hate?"
"Can’t really say that," Palmer pondered carefully, "For a long time, I never really regarded Vasilina as the opposite sex."
"Why?"
"Have you ever seen a little girl who mastered dozens of wrestling techniques, laughing as she wrestles you?" Palmer’s hand started trembling uncontrollably as he added out of the blue, "I rarely cry."
"Oh, and she dresses really androgynously, with short hair, and she’s tall," Palmer described, drawing a line across his chest, "and she’s quite flat-chested too."
Bologue nodded. His indifferent expression was already losing control, with the corners of his mouth twitching occasionally. He could only clench his fists to make himself continue listening and not burst into laughter.
"So when did the change begin between you two? I mean, when did you start seeing her as the opposite sex and develop feelings for her?"
"Well, the reason is something I’ve already told you. I have a big dog named Leica, and I used to ride it around for fun. One day Leica got injured, and the doctor said that it’s already quite old. If I keep doing this, it might age even faster.
I was extremely upset then, feeling that my selfishness hastened Leica’s aging. Since then, I stopped riding Leica. To make it up to it, I even secretly sneaked food from the kitchen for it."
Palmer took the motorcycle keys out of his pocket and waved them in front of Bologue. That sidecar motorcycle named Leica was Palmer’s dearest possession.
"Seeing me in such a slump, my dad got me a motorcycle. Though I was still a kid and found it hard to handle, it didn’t stop me from endlessly riding around Wind Source Highlands.
But then one day the motorcycle broke down, and I didn’t know how to fix it. My dad didn’t care either since he was already annoyed by my daily riding. He thought I should spend my time studying. It was not long after my coming-of-age ceremony, and I should’ve started learning all kinds of Extraordinary knowledge instead of running around wildly.
Vasilina said she knew how to fix it. I didn’t know why she knew about such things, but since it was broken anyway, I let her try. Later... I almost forgot about the whole thing.
One day I realized that I hadn’t seen Vasilina for a long time, so I went to look for her..."
Palmer’s voice softened, squinting his eyes as if the scenes of the past were right before him. Although he recounted being beaten black and blue by Vasilina, he couldn’t help but smile at the moment.
"I clearly remember it was a beautiful afternoon. The sky was cloudless, and the glorious sunlight fell unrestrained. The breeze carried the fragrance of the grassland, cooling and comforting as it brushed against the skin.
Vasilina sat in the shadow of a wall, wearing a black tank top and loose cargo pants. Her gloves were stained with black oil, some of which had smeared onto her face, mixed with sweat.
She was fiddling with those parts, forcefully turning a wrench, with the muscles on her exposed arms clear and defined—a perfect blend of strength and finesse.
At that moment, I didn’t feel like I was watching Vasilina but observing a leopard tearing at its prey..."
Palmer paused, a perplexed emotion emerging in his eyes. Even after all these years, he still couldn’t understand the origin of his emotions. Luckily, it didn’t bother Palmer much; he was a rather simple guy who didn’t bother figuring everything out.
"I felt that all my emotions towards Vasilina were released at that moment, collapsing like a bridge in a controlled demolition, one section after another, unstoppable.
I fell helplessly in love with Vasilina."
Palmer downed his drink in one go and slammed the glass on the table forcefully, ending his heartfelt narrative. With a sense of pride and a need for affirmation, he shouted at Bologue.
"A girl who can fix motorcycles is so damn cool, don’t you think?"
Bologue nodded emphatically, clinking glasses with Palmer. Serey, who had been listening to the story, also cheered.
"To this damn love story!"
Serey slammed his foot on the bar and shook the bottle vigorously, spilling frothy foam everywhere.
After the revelry, on the way home, Bologue stumbled along with his arm around Palmer’s shoulder.
"Did Vasilina ever fix the motorcycle in the end?"
Because of his quirky way of thinking, Bologue was still concerned about the fate of the motorcycle.
Palmer hiccupped and complained, "She can’t fix a damn motorcycle. She just thought it would be fun to take it apart."
Back to the present.
Vasilina wrapped an arm around Palmer’s neck, holding him tightly like a chick, forcing him to snuggle up against her.
Perhaps because it had been too long since they last met, Palmer blushed with excitement, gently patting Vasilina’s arm, his body trembling continuously.
"Ah, you must be Bologue Lazarus, right? Palmer often mentions you over the phone."
Vasilina smiled and extended her hand toward Bologue.
"Vasilina Philrad."
Bologue responded kindly.
"Hello, I’ve heard Palmer mention you often as well."
After taking a closer look at Vasilina, at first, Bologue just thought she was an overly handsome man. After confirming Vasilina’s gender, an indescribable aura surrounded her.
Cold, elegant, composed, and a hint of... dominance? Like an ice-cold queen.
In comparison, Bologue didn’t feel that Palmer was a match for this queen, seeming more like her cherished male companion.
Oh, speaking of Palmer.
Bologue glanced at Palmer under Vasilina’s arm and found the guy had rolled his eyes from being too excited, falling into a blissful faint.
"You’re much more special than I imagined," Bologue added, "Good thing I’m starting to get used to this kind of unexpected specialness."
Realizing profoundly that nothing in Wind Source Highlands can be viewed through the lens of common sense.
"Haha, you’re really funny."
Vasilina raised her hand, slightly covering her mouth like a graceful lady.