The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness Chapter 490: Alias

Muen opened his eyes.

His spirit, which had gone several days without rest, had been completely replenished after a full sleep, and he now felt light all over.

He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall—exactly twenty-four hours, not a single minute off from the wake-up ti he had set for himself.

Although he had fallen asleep a little later than he expected, his control over his body now was that powerful. He could wake up whenever he wished; no longer the playboy young master who ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) needed a maid to wake him every morning.

“But maybe I should pick up so of the things I threw away back then, starting now?”

Muen got up and put on his black formal suit.

This specially made suit not only possessed astonishing defensive power, but also had an automatic cleaning function. Even after the previous battles, it remained spotless.

Facing the mirror, Muen buttoned the suit one by one, perfectly aligned.

Then ca the human-skin mask.

Seeing the handso, golden-haired young man in the mirror turn into a brooding middle-aged man with deep facial contours, Muen couldn’t help letting out a sigh.

This was one of the regrets too, in a way.

But there was no other choice. Muen Campbell was currently in the northern Sidell Territory, eting its governor and lord, and would soon shine in the upcoming disaster-relief operations, spreading the Campbell na all the way to the imperial borders.

So the one going to this appointnt could only be Mr. Bruce. He hadn’t even used his usual perfu; after only a simple bit of tidying up, Muen walked out of the room.

“Hello, checking out.”

“Hello.”

The young girl at the front desk brightened visibly when she saw Muen:

“You look really happy. Are you going on a date?”

“Date?”

Muen spun the hat lightly with his fingertips; it flipped beautifully several tis in the air and landed on his head:

“Sothing like that.”

“You’re so handso, the lady is definitely going to like you.” The front-desk girl clapped her hands together and praised him with a smile.

“If only she would.”

Muen sighed.

“I’m just hoping I won’t get stepped on too much. Of course, being stepped on once in a while is actually...”

“???”

......

......

“This should be the place.”

Muen lifted his head and looked at the words “Fafran Avenue” on the street sign, confirming this was the appointed location, then walked toward the deeper part of the street.

Night was approaching.

In the Lower District, although dayti was always bustling, once night fell, aside from the holess and the drunkards and gamblers lurking in taverns, ordinary people rarely wandered around.

So this street didn’t have many passersby either. Only the occasional spill of lamplight through the residents’ windows on both sides showed that this still was a lively district.

“Number thirteen... number thirteen... here it is—huh?”

Finding the plate marked “13,” Muen paused slightly.

Beneath the number plate was a long bench.

And in the corner where the light couldn’t reach, soone was already sitting on that bench.

The face couldn’t be seen, because a black lace-trim parasol covered most of the person’s figure. As Muen followed the silhouette downward, he could only see a pair of black-stockinged long legs pressed neatly together, extending from a fitted dress.

“Hm? Celicia?”

Tilting his head, Muen slowly crouched down and observed the person from beneath the parasol.

Ink-black hair was tied up into a cute bun at the back of the head. The delicate face looked as though carved by an artist, without a single flaw. The features seed very ordinary individually, yet together they ford a harmony that was hard to describe.

Below the swan-like neck was a perfectly shaped weapon hidden under the fitted dress.

As expected, she was a very adorable girl.

But from her appearance, she was not Celicia.

“Did I get it wrong?”

For a mont, such a thought flashed through Muen’s mind.

But he didn’t rush to apologize for his rudeness. Under a certain intuition, his gaze drifted upward again, falling on the slightly baby-faced cheeks.

The features, the face—completely unfamiliar. But beneath those willow-leaf thin brows and long thick eyelashes, Muen saw a pair of eyes cold like the very first snow of winter.

Those eyes were looking right at him.

“So cute.”

Muen sighed softly. Before his brain could run through the full cycle of thought, he had already raised his hand and gently pinched the girl’s cheek.

As if confirming the texture, he squeezed a few tis.

Then those cold eyes instantly turned into a dangerous expression, like looking at scum.

“Ha, so it really is you, Celicia—wait, don’t be mad, I was just checking if this face was real, I definitely wasn’t trying to take advantage of you!”

“Choose. Front, or back.”

“Eh? What front, what back? I—pff—”

Muen slowly collapsed to his knees, curling up like a boiled shrimp while clutching his abdon.

But he still didn’t forget to painfully give a thumbs-up and praise:

“Per... perfect knee strike. Celicia, your skills have gotten even stronger.”

Celicia, who had already stood up, tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear and said coldly:

“Judging from your instinctive attempt to defend yourself just now, then forcibly suppressing that instinct, and your current state after taking the blow, you’re not bad either—at least in terms of taking a beating.”

“Th... thanks for the complint.”

“I wasn’t complinting you.”

“I’ll take it as one anyway.”

“......”

Celicia let out a sigh as though she couldn’t bear him:

“You’re late.”

“Late? No way, I arrived half an hour early. You’re the one who ca too—”

Just as he tried to retort, Muen t Celicia’s increasingly icy gaze.

“Sorry, I’m the one who ca late.”

Muen lowered his head instantly.

Celicia nodded lightly and sat back down.

Muen, who wasn’t actually hurt at all, rubbed his stomach anyway and sat down beside her.

Only about a fist’s distance separated their shoulders. Celicia glanced at it but said nothing.

“How long have you been here?”

“Just arrived.”

“Oh... just arrived.”

Muen dragged out the sound with a strange tone, then asked again:

“Then this face of yours?”

“Can’t you tell? Sa as you. A mask.”

“So it is a mask? Mm-hm, a mask, I see. Still, it’s really cute.”

Muen praised:

“The style is completely different from your real one, but—”

“You prefer this face?”

Celicia raised a brow suddenly.

“...No, impossible. How could any face in this world be more beautiful than your true appearance?”

Muen imdiately straightened his expression:

“Believe , Your Highness. You are the most beautiful woman in this world.”

“Lie.”

“If I’m lying, then may my most respected teacher never eat a strawberry lollipop again.”

Muen slapped his chest with righteous conviction.

Celicia shot him a glance—it was hard to tell if she accepted that answer.

Muen wiped the sweat off in relief and quickly changed the subject:

“Speaking of which, I didn’t expect you to use disguise too.”

“You, a duke’s son who’s supposed to be serving elsewhere, have to hide your identity. How could I, a princess under house arrest, wander outside openly?”

“Fair point. So have you thought of a na yet?”

Muen asked:

“This is important. Otherwise it’s easy to slip.”

“An alias? True, I’ll need one. Let think...”

Celicia rested her chin on her hand for a mont:

“Lisa? Mary? Martha? Hmm... how about Martha, Mr. Bruce?”

“Have rcy on .” Muen’s cheek twitched.

“Hm?”

Celicia looked at him, puzzled:

“Is there sothing wrong with the na?”

As she spoke, her gaze suddenly sharpened:

“Another one of the won you used to fool around with?”

“No—wait, why would you jump to such a weird conclusion? Did I have that many won before?”

“......”

“Fine, I was a piece of trash before, but I’ve turned over a new leaf. The current is a faithful, devoted man.”

“Faithful?”

“De... devoted. Devoted.”

Muen coughed a few tis, then imdiately used this world’s story tropes to explain the associations between those nas.

“I see. Mother and son... that would certainly feel disgusting.”

Celicia thought for a mont. “Then call Sia instead.”

“Sia?”

Muen’s eyes lit up, and he leaned forward enthusiastically:

“Great na. Is this your nickna or sothing?”

The two were suddenly extrely close.

Close enough to feel each other’s breath.

At so point, the moon had risen, mischievously spreading its light over their shoulders.

Even though the reflections in their pupils showed unfamiliar faces, the faint emotions flowing deep in their eyes could only be called familiar.

Perhaps the sudden closeness had so effect—Muen saw sothing warm flowing beneath that icy depth.

“Is it, or is it not? Mm, so Celicia actually has such a cute litt—”

Whatever had been flowing instantly froze.

“Sorry.”

Muen imdiately lowered his head in surrender:

“I got too cocky.”

“...Temporarily.” Celicia suddenly said.

“Wha... what?”

Celicia turned her head:

“I said you may call that for now.”

“Oh.”

Muen blinked, adjusted his hat, and tried to check Celicia’s current expression.

Tsundere? Was she being tsundere?

Tsundere was wonderful.

Unfortunately, before he could confirm, Celicia rose directly from the bench.

“Let’s go.”

The black parasol spun lightly as the girl walked with graceful steps toward the deeper part of the street.

Muen followed, side by side with her.

“Where to? A restaurant?”

“You didn’t actually think I risked Veil losing her head just to stroll around with you, did you?”

“That does seem unlikely... huh? Wait, Veil? Did I just hear sothing that sounds like a ruthless boss exploiting a helpless little secretary?”

“You think I’m being too harsh and feel sorry for Veil?”

“...No, I think you should push her harder. Honestly, I’ve been annoyed with her for a long ti. That damned yaoi enthusiast has ruined more plans of mine than I can count.”

“Heh.”

“......”

The two chatted idly as they passed through the empty streets, brushing past signs on both sides of the road and the wind chis swaying lightly in the breeze.