The mood was heavy as the ladies stood in grief. Their expressions were grim, eyes swollen from crying, but the sound of a frivolous voice broke the silence. They turned around, and there stood a man from India.
Alice's temper flared instantly. She was about to launch herself at him, fists flying, with the intent to throw him into the sea as shark bait. But Queenie, ever the composed one, stopped her, her calm voice laced with authority. "Let me handle this," she said, before stepping forward with purposeful strides.
Queenie had become more distant and aloof since becoming a cultivator. She exuded an air of confidence and power, and when she reached the man, instead of attacking him as the others might have expected, she grabbed his hood by the ear with an iron grip.
"You bastard, come here. Apologize!" she commanded, her cold eyes locking onto the man's.
With a swift yank, Queenie pulled him toward the group, forcing him to stand straight in front of them. "Apologize, one by one," she ordered, her voice unwavering.
The girls, still in a state of disbelief, stared at the man, confused. "Bastard?" Queenie's words left them perplexed, until a sneer played on her lips. She yanked off his hood, revealing a familiar face. It was none other than John.
The air shifted as realization spread across the group. Their expressions shifted from confusion to surprise, and then, inevitably, joy. The fact that John was alive caused a wave of relief to wash over them, though they quickly masked their emotions with a mix of exasperation and anger.
John, ever the charmer, gave an awkward smile and shrugged. "Haha, you guys are so smart, you figured it out!" he said, trying to brush off the awkwardness.
"Shut up!" Queenie's voice cut through the air sharply, and her gaze became even colder. "I'm not in the mood for jokes."
John didn't want to add more fuel to the fire, but his inability to keep a straight face only made the situation worse. As he looked at the girls, their eyes filled with relief, but there was no mistaking the anger that lingered.
"Apologize," Queenie said sternly, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at him expectantly.
John sighed. He could already feel the heat of her gaze. He stood up a little straighter. "I'm sorry, Queenie. I'm sorry, Tracy..." His voice carried sincerity, but his usual nonchalant tone still lingered.
When it came to Angela, John's tone became even more relaxed. "I'm sorry, honey!" he said, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
The word "honey" sparked an even fiercer glare from Queenie. Her face contorted in irritation. "Can you show some sincerity? You want to get beaten again?" she snapped.
The others weren't surprised by John's teasing. He had always been like this, calling them "honey" even during moments of teasing. But Queenie, being the eldest, was different. She wasn't about to let him off the hook so easily.
Angela, understanding the teasing nature behind it, blushed but tried to ease the tension. "Well... it's okay, Queenie. If John likes to call me that, let him."
Queenie, however, was having none of it. Her jaw tightened. "You... brat!" she muttered under her breath, clearly not amused.
Anita, the youngest, giggled at the whole situation. "John, why didn't I realize how cute you are before?" she teased, her lighthearted nature diffusing some of the tension. "Now go apologize to Bertha!"
John nodded, relieved at the lighthearted shift, and made his way to Bertha. Standing in front of her, he was momentarily at a loss for words. His usual confidence faltered under Bertha's piercing gaze. "Ahem, I'm sorry to make you worry, my incomparably beautiful sister, Berta," he said, trying to smooth things over.
Bertha raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a small smirk. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm not worried about you," she said coldly. "I wish you'd die in the sea."
John, taken aback, could only smile wryly. "Well, I guess I deserve that," he muttered under his breath.
After the round of apologies, John turned to Queenie, who still hadn't softened her stance. "Queenie, I've apologized. Can you forgive me?" he asked, hopeful yet knowing that his eldest sister had a stubborn streak.
Queenie finally broke her gaze from the horizon, her expression still stern but with a hint of something else. "I forgive you this time," she said, her voice not as harsh but still tinged with authority. "But if you ever pull something like this again, just like Berta said, I'll let you die in the sea."
Her words held weight, and John knew she wasn't joking. Still, he felt a sense of relief, knowing that despite her tough exterior, Queenie was, at her core, a protective sister.
And as the tension slowly dissipated, John couldn't help but smile to himself. At least he was back with his sisters—and, as usual, they would never let him live down his antics.
4o mini