Fulilian: The Little Master Who Doesn't Understand Love

Chapter 241 is a sharing from Frilian.

Vlame practically staggered back to the city lord's mansion, keeping his head down the whole way, not daring to let any guards or maids he encountered along the way see his distraught expression.

Her mind was in complete chaos, and her chest was in excruciating pain.

The scene of Mr. Lord naturally sharing food with Ms. Celie, Ms. Celie's completely different demeanor, and the intimate atmosphere between the two that no one else could possibly intrude upon...

All these images played repeatedly in her mind like a revolving lantern, each replay feeling like a knife being stabbed into her heart, causing even greater pain.

She didn't understand. She had seen this scene countless times in the forest, so why did seeing it now cause her such distress?
This overwhelming emotion almost overwhelmed her.

Driven by instinct, she barely managed to run back to her room and, without even catching her breath, pushed the door open.

Inside the room, Frilian remained in the same position, sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest.

Hearing the door open, she immediately looked up, her emerald green eyes gazing at the doorway, her gaze filled with an almost numb emptiness after a long wait, and a renewed anticipation upon seeing it was Vlamé.

Her gaze unconsciously fell on Vlame's hands—empty.

There was no breakfast, and nothing that looked like food.

Frillie's eyes dimmed, and she silently lowered her head again, resting her chin on her knees, her body curling up slightly, looking exceptionally pitiful.

This sight was like a bucket of ice water, instantly extinguishing some of the chaotic thoughts in Vlamé's mind, replacing them with an even stronger sense of guilt.

She then remembered the solemn promise she made when she left that morning and the warning she gave to Frilian. She never expected that the other party would actually not step out of the room.

"I...I'm back." Vlame walked into the room, her voice a little hoarse, with a hint of apology in it.

She closed the door behind her, as if that would shut out all the things outside that were breaking her heart.

Frillie didn't look up, but just hummed softly, her voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible grievance.

"I'm sorry, I thought you would go out on your own." Vlame felt even more guilty.

“Because you, Vlame, instructed me not to go out,” Frilian replied calmly.

"No, that's not it," Vlamé wanted to argue, as long as he didn't bother Professor Celie and let her interfere with his date with Professor Lord, but it was too late to say that now. "No, it's nothing, it's my fault."

The brief conversation ended and the room fell silent once again.

After a long while, Frilian raised her head again, and this time she seemed to finally notice that something was wrong with Vlame.

The other person's eyes were red, and they exuded a distinct aura of sadness, even stronger than the night before.

Even someone as emotionally insensitive as Frilian could clearly perceive this intense emotional fluctuation.

She tilted her head, a hint of confusion in her eyes temporarily overshadowing her hunger.

"Volamey?" she asked softly, her tone cautious. "Why are you crying again?"

When Vlamé was asked this question, his nose tingled and he almost burst into tears again.

She quickly turned her head away, forcing a smile, and said, "No, no! It's just that it's windy outside, and sand got in my eyes."

The excuse was so flimsy that even she herself didn't believe it.

Frillie looked at her quietly without saying a word.

Finally, she spoke again: "Did you meet Lady Celia and Lord Lord?"

Vlame's body stiffened abruptly, and he looked at Frillie in disbelief: "How did you know?"

Frillie's expression remained unchanged; she simply stated the facts: "The scent on you carries the remnants of their magic, and the only thing that could make you so upset is something related to them."

Frillie recalled that last night, when Vlame was talking about encountering an invincible opponent, she used Celie and Lord as examples, and the other party's reaction proved that it was indeed related to these two people.

The fact that the other party is acting so upset again clearly indicates that it's still about the same thing.

Frillie may be slow to react, but her senses are sharp. Touched by her secret, Vlame leaned weakly against the door, then slid down to the floor, covering her face with her hands. Suppressed sobs finally escaped her lips.

“Hmm,” her voice was muffled, “I ran into them. They were together, and they looked very close.”

Upon hearing this, Frillie's face remained expressionless, but her eyes showed even more confusion.

She couldn't fully understand why Vlamé was so heartbroken.

In her understanding, it was perfectly normal for Lady Celie and Lord Lord to have a good relationship, after all, the two had been together for thousands of years and had long since developed an unspoken understanding.

She thought for a moment, then tried to comfort them in her own way: "Lady Celia and Teacher Lord have been together for a very, very long time."

What she meant was that their good relationship was normal and there was no need to be upset about it.

But this blunt truth was nothing short of another blow to Vlamé.

Yes, they've been together for a long time, possessing a deep understanding and bond built up over many years—a distance that I could never reach in my entire life.

Thinking of this, her tears flowed even more fiercely.

Frillie looked at her crying so sadly and seemed a little helpless.

She hesitated for a moment, then climbed off the bed, walked barefoot to Vlame's side, and squatted down.

She reached out and gently patted Vlame's head, the closest thing she could think of to comfort him.

"Don't cry." Frillie's voice remained flat. "Being hungry is the worst thing."

Vlame was both amused and exasperated by her overly sincere words of comfort, which did indeed somewhat dispel her sadness.

She looked up at the earnest white-haired elf girl in front of her, and a wave of guilt washed over her again.

"I'm sorry, Frilian, I promised to arrange breakfast for you, but I forgot."

Frillie shook her head, indicating that she didn't care.

Her attention seemed to be drawn to the tears on Vlame's face, and she reached out a finger and touched them curiously.

A warm, damp sensation spread through my fingertips.

"Human tears," she murmured, "are they because they feel hungry?"

Vlame stared at her blankly, unsure how to respond.

Frillie withdrew her hand, looked at her, and said very seriously, "Although I don't quite understand, I can give you this."

As she spoke, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a candy wrapped in a special leaf, which she then handed to Vlamé.

This is a specialty of her village, a delicacy that only elves can enjoy. Now, Frilian has only one left.

She hadn't been able to bear eating it, but after seeing how heartbroken Vlamé was, she gave it to him anyway.

Looking at the strange candy lying quietly in Frilian's palm, and at her pure green eyes, the surging pain in Vlamé's heart suddenly subsided considerably.

She took the candy, held it in her palm, and felt the rustling texture of the leaves, which brought a faint sense of reality.

"Thank you, Frilian," she said softly, her voice still hoarse, but her emotions had calmed down.

Perhaps Frillian didn't understand those complex emotions, but her pure care and sharing were more comforting than any words at that moment.

Vlame took a deep breath, stood up, and helped Frillie up as well.

“Let’s go,” she forced a smile. “I’ll take you to get something to eat, you can eat whatever you want.”

As for those tangled thoughts, just set them aside for a while.

(End of this chapter)