After several trips back and forth, even traveling by carriage felt exhausting. Glen parked his deer-drawn cart by the street and stepped down to stretch his limbs.

  Just as he began to relax, he heard someone calling his name from afar. Turning around, he saw Leila at the end of the street—one hand clutching a book, the other waving high as she jogged toward him.

  “Miss Leila, we meet again,” Glen said politely as she approached. “Mr. Glen,” Leila panted lightly, “I wasn’t sure it was you at first—until I saw your big deer, then I knew.” “It does stand out quite a bit,” Glen chuckled, glancing at his “steed.” “Out shopping?” “I went to the bookstore,” she replied, lifting the book in her hand. The cover read The Principles of Mechanics. “You truly have a thirst for knowledge,” Glen said, impressed.

  The young girl merely smiled, then asked, “Mr. Glen, are you busy right now? If not, would you like to visit my home?” “I wouldn’t say I’m busy, but… thank you for the invitation. Perhaps another time.” Glen simply wasn’t in the mood for social visits or small talk.

  “All right…” A flicker of disappointment crossed Leila’s eyes, though her smile remained. Her subtle emotions did not escape Glen’s notice, yet before he could think of something comforting to say, he suddenly felt something cling to his leg.

  Looking down, he saw a chubby boy of about six or seven hugging his calf tightly. “Hey, little fellow, what are you doing?” Glen asked, pinching the boy’s round cheek. The child clung on stubbornly, refusing to answer.

  Leila noticed the boy too and crouched down, speaking gently, “What’s wrong, little one? Do you need help?” Still, no reply.

  Just as Glen was about to pry him off, a flustered woman came running over, tears in her voice. “Cree! What are you doing?! Let go—please!”

  Puzzled, Glen hesitated—when suddenly, another small figure darted toward him and latched onto his other leg. He lifted his foot quickly, dodging the first pounce, but before he could feel smug, the new arrival—a little girl—immediately clung to the same leg as the boy.

  Glen was speechless. The girl, too, said nothing—just held on tightly.

  Her parents rushed up, pulling hard to separate her. The girl, though small, burst into tears and struggled wildly, plunging the scene into chaos. Onlookers began to gather, curious.

  Glen finally lifted the chubby boy by the arms and walked aside to sit down. The boy stared up at him, eyes wide and silent.

  “What’s wrong with your child?” Glen asked the distraught woman. “I—I don’t know, sir. Ever since he went missing last time and we found him again, he’s been strange—quiet all day, haunted by nightmares at night. And now this… this meaningless behavior…” she sobbed.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Her words made Glen pause. He remembered the battle with the giant insect—those children trapped in its lair, their eyes wide open. So… they still remember what I looked like before I transformed.

  He set the boy down again, only for the child to cling to him once more. A brief observation told Glen the boy showed signs of depression—perhaps from trauma, or some lingering influence of that creature. The little girl seemed the same.

  Maybe I should ask the old man about this later… though who knows if that shameless geezer will help.

  As he pondered, Leila smoothed her skirt and sat beside him, curiosity dancing in her eyes as she studied his thoughtful expression.

  For now, Glen decided to handle the immediate situation. He looked at the two children and asked softly, “Have you ever heard a fairy tale?” The boy shook his head. The girl, who had escaped her parents only to hug Glen again, did the same.

  “Fairy tale? Is that like the songs told by bards?” Leila asked, intrigued. “You don’t know either?” Glen was surprised. In theory, fairy tales should already exist in this era… right? he thought uncertainly.

  Leila searched her memory, then shook her head. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Their parents shook their heads as well.

  Glen’s inherited memories held no trace of fairy tales—but those weren’t reliable anyway. “In that case,” he said, “let me tell you one.”

  He wasn’t sure if a fairy tale would help, but it was the only idea he had. The onlookers had drifted away, leaving only the small group behind.

  Glen considered choosing a story that fit the children’s experiences, but nothing came to mind—so he began with one at random. “This story,” he said, “is called The Ugly Duckling.”

  Leila straightened, intrigued. The parents found places to sit as well—watching over their children while curious about this so-called fairy tale.

  And so the story began.

  “The Ugly Duckling was born different—mocked by the animals around him, bullied wherever he went…” Glen spoke in the soothing, rhythmic tone he remembered from television, his voice rich with emotion.

  Gradually, the world around them quieted. Leila rested her chin in her hands, utterly captivated by the strange, beautiful, and tender story—where animals spoke like humans, full of innocent feeling and simple wonder. She had never heard anything like it.

  The two children—and even the adults—listened, completely absorbed.

  When the tale reached its end, as the ugly duckling became a graceful swan, a warm silence lingered. Everyone seemed lost in the glow of that happy ending.

  “The story’s over,” Glen said at last.

  His voice broke the spell. Leila stepped forward, grasping his hands tightly. “Mr. Glen, that story was wonderful! If I’d heard something like that as a child, I would’ve had the sweetest dreams…” Her cheeks flushed, the book she had bought forgotten on the ground.

  Glen tugged lightly, but her hands didn’t let go.

  “I have ducklings at home,” the chubby boy said eagerly. “Will any of them turn into swans?” “Maybe…” Glen answered, humoring him. “I have ducks too, but no ducklings,” the little girl said sadly. “No worries. Let them lay some eggs, and you’ll have ducklings soon enough,” Glen said with a faint smile. “Yay!”

  At last, the two children released him. “Mom, Dad, let’s go make the ducks have babies!” “Mom, I’m going to find the ugly duckling!”

  Their parents watched, eyes brimming with tears—grateful to see their children smile again after so long. “Thank you, sir,” one of them said fervently. “We’ll never forget your kindness.”

  Then, hand in hand with their laughing children, they walked away.