Help! I'm in Another World and the Dragon Man Want Me To Get Pregnant!
Chapter 66: Unspoken Desires and Silent Promises

Chapter 66: Unspoken Desires and Silent Promises

However, the more rational part of Ignatius told him that it wasn’t his decision to make.

Depending on Shen Xinghui’s status and skills, he might be able to find a well-paying job.

He might have goals of his own, or if not, he could find something he wanted to do in the future.

Ignatius had no right to force his choices or limit his options with a selfish proposal.

In the end, he offered the Guildmaster a vague smile.

"If he tells me he wants to be my cook, I wouldn’t refuse. But he has his own thoughts and future to consider."

"You’re a bit too kind, Ignatius," the Guildmaster remarked with a small sigh.

Just then, a delicious aroma filled the air.

A rich, savory scent, accompanied by the unmistakable fragrance of cooked meat.

It was the kind of smell that made one’s stomach growl instinctively, stirring up an undeniable hunger.

"It’s smells good," Ignatius commented.

"Ah, it really does," the Guildmaster agreed.

Peeking into the kitchen, Ignatius saw that Shen Xinghui was busy moving efficiently, his small frame handling large pots and frying food with practiced ease.

Quietly stepping inside, Ignatius glanced around.

The large quantities of vegetables and meat they had bought were now being transformed into dishes.

The pot on the stove seemed to contain a simmering stew.

What was truly impressive, however, was how clean the kitchen remained despite all the cooking.

The used utensils had already been washed and placed in a drying rack.

The sink was spotless, with no vegetable scraps left behind.

A separate pot held discarded vegetable peels and chicken skins, simmering together—likely to be used for broth.

Shen Xinghui was placing freshly fried meat onto a draining rack when Ignatius spoke.

"That looks delicious."

"Huh?"

Reaching out from behind, Ignatius plucked a piece of freshly fried meat and popped it into his mouth.

He was resistant to heat, so there was no risk of burning his tongue.

As he chewed the meat, the rich, savory juices burst in his mouth, blending perfectly with the fragrant saltiness of soy sauce.

A smile spread across his lips.

It was incredibly delicious.

The unpleasant gamey taste had been completely eliminated, and the meat remained tender despite being fried—an impressive feat.

"This is amazing," he murmured in appreciation.

When Ignatius honestly expressed his thoughts, Shen Xinghui beamed with joy.

It was an utterly unguarded smile, almost childlike in its purity.

His straightforward reaction left Ignatius feeling conflicted.

As if that weren’t enough, Shen Xinghui’s scent was incredibly pleasant.

Coupled with his adorable demeanor, sincere nature, polite manners, and exceptional cooking skills, he possessed every trait that Ignatius found desirable.

Forget a mere cook—he was someone Ignatius would want as a spouse.

However, he quickly suppressed that fleeting thought.

Shen Xinghui had only recently arrived in this world and he had never been in a relationship with a man before.

The very concepts of same-sex marriage and male pregnancy unsettled him, filling him with hesitation and fear.

It would be wrong—unforgivable—to deceive him in any way, to claim him as a spouse through coercion or manipulation.

More than anything, Ignatius needed a child.

If he were to take Shen Xinghui as his partner and they failed to conceive, it would bring nothing but sorrow.

Would society look down on Shen Xinghui?

Call him useless for being unable to bear children?

Would they try to push someone else onto Ignatius to fulfill that role?

If that happened, Shen Xinghui would be the one to suffer.

Blissfully unaware of the turmoil in Ignatius’s heart, Shen Xinghui continued to smile at him without a care in the world.

Perhaps the best thing to do was to remain a good person—to protect, but never overstep.

And fortunately, Ignatius had always been skilled at locking away his own desires.

On the first night Ignatius and Shen Xinghui camped together, Shen Xinghui seemed utterly delighted just by the act of setting up a tent.

When Ignatius added a tarp, he became even more excited, exclaiming, "This feels so real!"

Apparently, in Shen Xinghui’s world, pitching a tent and sleeping outdoors was a special occasion—an event, as he put it.

He also mentioned that it reminded him of childhood memories.

For Ignatius, who spent nearly half the year living in a tent, it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Yet, tonight felt a little different.

After all, this was the first time he had ever shared a tent with someone.

He set up a protective barrier around their camp before settling in to sleep.

However, despite his efforts to rest, his sleep was light.

Lying beside him, Shen Xinghui slept soundly, completely defenseless.

Watching his peaceful expression unsettled Ignatius in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

Perhaps it was simply because he had never camped with someone before.

Or perhaps it was the unspoken responsibility weighing on him—the awareness that he had to protect the person sleeping beside him.

Shen Xinghui’s trust was absolute.

He didn’t even consider the possibility that the man next to him might harbor certain feelings.

How endearing—and how cruel.

Ignatius knew he could never betray that trust.

Just as he was drifting in and out of shallow sleep, he suddenly heard the faint sound of footsteps pressing against the grass.

His senses sharpened instantly as he scanned the surroundings.

The source of the noise was still some distance away—too far to act immediately.

And he couldn’t leave Shen Xinghui alone.

The barrier around the tent would repel external threats, but those inside could pass through it freely.

If Shen Xinghui woke up in a panic and stepped outside, that would be far more dangerous.

A loud cracking sound echoed through the trees as something massive tore through the forest.

Shen Xinghui jolted awake by the sounds and his eyes wide with fear.

His trembling hands fumbled in the darkness, desperately searching for something—anything—to ground him.

Ignatius reached out and firmly grasped those restless hands, silently reassuring him that he was there.