His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

50 You're Not Frade

I was stunned. The man in front of me wore a mask that covered half of his face. His golden eyes sparkled like stars in the darkness. His eyes were dark and cold. Although half of his face was obscured by a silver mask, the other half was as perfect as a picture of Vincent van Gogh's starry night sky.

He stood in front of me, but I felt him so far away. He said nothing but looked at me. The silver mask glowed white in the moonlight, and he wore a pure white shirt, clean and neat, without a trace of wrinkles. His neck is as long as that of a swan. His lips parted slightly, revealing his white teeth.

"You're awake, Sleeping Beauty!" He put his violin on the floor and leaned against the wall.

His voice was calm and soft. His sound was blown away by the night breeze and brushed gently against my cheek. I felt a shiver coming over me.

An inexplicable impulse prompted me to boldly touch his face mask. It was the coldness of metal. Now I know he's not Frade.

I was extremely disappointed and sad. Just a moment ago, I was fantasizing about Frade. I wish the man in front of me was him. It was at this moment that I realized how attached I had been to him. Every time I face death, I expect him to come to my rescue in time.

But this time, he's not there.

My body was suddenly drained, and the night wind behind me became cold and powerful. I was on the verge of falling, my legs going limp and falling to the ground.

The man held me by the waist with one hand, and my body hung on his arm like a piece of wet dough. He picked me up and went into the house.

He carried me back to my bed, and I grabbed his wrist as he turned to leave.

"Please, don't go!" My mind blurred again, and although I knew he was not my knight, I still wanted someone to be by my side. I don't want to face a lonely night alone.

Tears flowed from the corners of my eyes. The man looked me in the eye. I saw the corners of his mouth move slightly. Then he took a chair and sat down beside my bed. He held my hands. I could feel the heat of his hands and the roughness of his skin.

"It's all right. I'm right here!" He said in a voice that sounded like he was trying to coax a baby to sleep. "Go to sleep, go to sleep!"

I closed my eyes even though I didn't want to sleep. I imagined the man beside me as my knight. He was the only light in the darkness. As he whispered, I quickly passed out from exhaustion.

When I woke up the next day, I found a fresh white rose on my nightstand. The petals of the white rose were still dripping with dew. But the man from last night is missing.

The maid, who was cleaning the room, saw me wake up and hurried to my bed. She was a middle-aged woman with dark yellow skin and a red plaid apron around her waist.

"My dear lady, what can I do for you?" Her voice was thick and manly, but her eyes were gentle and kind.

"Water!" I still feel weak. My voice is so thin that only I can hear it.

The maid quickly brought me a glass of water, and she helped me sit up against the pillow. I drank a glass of water and found my stomach empty. The maid must have realized that I should have had some breakfast, so she brought me some bread.

I drank a cup of hot milk and ate a soft piece of bread. After my empty stomach was filled with food, my body finally got some energy back. But I still gasp from time to time.

I want to ask the maid about the man with the mask I met last night. I just want to make sure that what happened last night was not an illusion.

"What's your name?" I asked the maid, who was tidying up the cutlery.

"Rita, my name is Rita!" said the maid, smiling, her teeth larger and more square than usual. Her English accent is not very authentic and carries a strong local dialect.

"What is this place?"

"Here?" Rita wiped her hands with her apron. "This is pudding island, of course."

"I mean, who owns this house?"

"Daley owns this house!" Retta said. "He's a good man!"

"Was he wearing a mask?" I asked cautiously, afraid that the answer would disappoint me.

"Oh, God is jealous of his looks!" Rita said with a sad look in her eyes. "Miss, please don't be frightened by that mask. Daley has been wearing it for a long time and you will get used to it!"

"Why is he wearing a mask?" I regretted my recklessness after I asked the question, because the look on Rita's face told me that she refused to answer the question. Maybe she doesn't know why.

"Now that you're awake, I think I should call the doctor and have him take a look at you," Rita said, and left the room with her tray.

Now I was alone again in the room, and the sun shone through the open window into the room. Out of the window came the cheerful chirping of birds. I want to go to the window to see the scenery outside. I long for the warmth of light.

So I put my feet on the carpet and inched my way to the window. I leaned my body against the window frame. The morning breeze gently blows on my face. Through the window, I could see a large area of coconut trees swaying in the wind. Further away, I could see silver sand beaches and surging water.

I reached out and felt the warmth of the sun on my arms. The gentle sea breeze wrapped around my arm like an invisible soft ribbon. I breathed the salty, damp air greedily. I envied the seagulls flying in the air. I wanted to be as free as they were. I wanted to hug the sky and the sea.

How I want to fly over the blue sea and return to my familiar hometown. I want to see my familiar lover.

Now I'm stuck on this island, unable to fly like a bird with its wings broken. I feel sad and hate at the same time. I hate that my father sold me here. I hate that I almost died in danger because of my own incompetence. I hate the bawd of the b.rothel, and I hate the farmer who spits on me.

Suddenly, everything is not so good now. I looked down and saw white roses and red flowers in full bloom in the garden.

The little red flowers that bloomed were clearly out of place with the white roses. After I saw the red flowers, I realized that they were all p.oppies.

Who would plant the evil poppy with the pure white rose? Is it a special hobby, or is it deep irony?

Then there was a knock at the door behind me. I thought the doctor was coming, so I went to open the door.

But it was not the doctor who came, but the man in the mask last night. He smiled at me, as bright as a blooming poppy!