After drying his hair, Nash sat on the sofa and checked his contacts. Hearing water running in the bathroom, he glanced toward the door, but couldn't see anything. He muttered, "We're about to be married. Why is she still so guarded?"

He found a number saved as 'Chatty Skye' and dialed. A voice answered immediately. "I've been waiting for your call, Nashy. It's been three years! My longing for you is..."

"Shut up," Nash interrupted.

"Yes, sir!"

"Any progress on the information?" Nash asked calmly.

"I found something, but..."

"Spit it out!" Nash's tone hardened.

"Twenty years ago, a fire destroyed Young Family Village. Master Calcraft, traveling down the mountain, rescued a two-year-old child and an old man. The following year, he brought a toddler down the mountain—that child was you, Nash!"

"And the old man?" Nash asked, eyes narrowed.

"Herman Lewis."

"Anything else?" Nash's voice was hoarse. "An entire village burned—someone wanted them all eliminated."

"I haven't found anything yet... I'll inform you immediately if I do, Nash!"

"Okay."

Nash hung up and lay down on the sofa. He'd always believed his master was his grandfather. He'd asked about his parents, but his master remained silent. For over twenty years, his identity remained a mystery. Three years ago, while assisting the Skyes against the Dark Dragon King, he met Theo Skye. Learning Theo ran numerous detective agencies, Nash offered a $150 million reward to investigate his own past. His master forbade him from leaving for three years. Theo's investigation revealed everything: his entire family had perished, and his master feared the knowledge would drive him to darkness. Only after Nash's cultivation success did his master allow him to seek out Herman, who treated him as his own son.

The bathroom door opened. Hera emerged, wearing pink pajamas and a towel. Approaching Nash, blushing, she mumbled, "Um... I accidentally destroyed your underwear..."

Nash's face reddened. "Didn't I throw it away?" The underwear was three years old and tattered. The three-year ban had limited his laundry options.

"Maybe you didn't throw it away properly!!!" Hera exclaimed, mortified. She'd assumed he'd left it for her to wash.

Nash glanced at her hands behind her back. She turned away, rushing to the trash can. Later, applying a face mask, she announced, "Tonight, you sleep on the bed, I'll take the couch!"

Nash smiled inwardly, feigning surprise. "I'm your fiancé. Shouldn't we sleep together?"

Hera gasped. "I... I'm not ready yet!"

His lips curled, but he sighed sadly. "Actually, I know you're using me for your grandfather's inheritance."

Hera panicked. "I... I'm not... I..."

He closed his eyes, pulling a blanket over himself. He didn't believe Hera had fallen for him at first sight; there was no genuine connection. Their marriage was to fulfill his master's arrangement.

"Nash... It's really not what you think..." Hera sobbed, squatting beside the sofa. She wanted to explain but didn't know how to begin. Nash's suspicions weren't entirely unfounded; she did want to marry him to gain her grandfather's favor and revive Baroque. However, her feelings for Nash proved more complex. His words caused a sharp pang of pain. Tears welled in her eyes.

Nash opened one eye, noticing her tears. His heart softened. He coaxed her with a smile. "Don't cry, I was teasing. Feelings develop slowly. Even if you let me sleep with you, I won't get on the bed!"

Hera rubbed her eyes. "Really?"

He nodded. "Of course. We've only known each other a day. I'm not even interested yet!"

Hera smiled through her tears. "Then... you can't get angry and start imagining things!"

"I got it, my dear Ms. Hera!" Nash drawled, a hint of impatience in his tone.

Ignoring this, Hera went to bed, sharing her day with her best friend.

The next morning, a dull thud startled Nash awake. Hera lay on the floor, unconscious. He carefully lifted her onto the bed, his hand brushing against her legs, sending a ripple through him. Her delicate form challenged his self-control. He swallowed, then covered her with a blanket, changed into sportswear, and went for a run.

Around eight, he returned. Hera had prepared breakfast—for herself.

"Oh, drats..." she mumbled, embarrassed. "Um... I-I forgot to make breakfast for you..."

Nash went to the bathroom. "You can eat by yourself. I'm not hungry."

After showering and dressing in a suit, he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like a wealthy scion. His slightly tousled hair, deep eyes, and sharp features were captivating.

Hera looked up, stunned. This wasn't the same sloppy Nash from yesterday. He looked like the epitome of cool, domineering charm.

He sat at the table, playfully waving his fingers. "Could it be that I've captivated you with my good looks?"

Hera blushed. Sipping her milk, she said, "Be careful when you sleep at night. I'm afraid that one day, I won't be able to resist and eat you up..."