Returning from the Dead: His Secret Lover novel Chapter 1856

The villagers were ecstatic. Once the wood was measured and paid for, the farmer dragged Ian to his house for some potato and leek soup. As it was a local and expensive delicacy, it would only be prepared to honor significant guests.

Ian had already firmly made up his mind to decline even before the offer was made.

At the farmer's approach, Ian shuddered in recollection of the incident with the Villagers' Committee and hastened his departure.

"Hey, Small Fry, where are you going? My wife has prepared a feast to thank you for your help"

Ian almost yelled in exasperation as the farmer's soil-crusted hand reached out with surprising vigor to grab his snow- white shirt.

Fortunately, a slender figure in the distance quickened her pace in Ian's direction at the commotion of his struggle.

"He has a delicate stomach, sir," the figure cried from afar. "But I'm sure he appreciates the offer"

As she spoke, she forcefully pried the farmer's fingers away from Ian's shirt.

Oh my, it's as black as soot!

Susan quickly extracted a clean handkerchief and cleaned Ian's shirt as best as she could.

The farmer must have gotten the hint as he no longer insisted on Ian's presence.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Even if you won't have lunch, at least come for my wife's pineapple tarts."

Pineapple tart?

Susan, who was feeling rather hungry, swallowed when she heard that.

"That sounds delicious, Ian. There's no harm in paying him a visit, is there? This village is known for its exceptionally sweet pineapples. I heard this harvest has been their best one yet."

Turning to face the young man behind her, her perspiration- laced face was full of hope.

Ian raised his eyebrows.

Although he had little interest in morsels, he gave in to her pleas.

Susan was thrilled. Turning to nod excitedly at the farmer, she gratefully accepted. "We would love to come, sir. Thank you."

"I am the one who should be grateful as Small Fry here has made us a lot of money. Come on, let's go!"

The farmer led the way back to his home.

They were in a primitive village. With houses made of mud bricks and worn tiles, the fragrance of fresh produce wafted from both sides up the quaint village road.

The smell and sight seemed to lift Susan's spirits greatly.

Having felt uneasy after running away in a panic earlier that day, she did not dare think about how Ian's impression of her would change after witnessing her erratic behavior.

What would he think of me? Would he see me as disrespectful, or would he think I have an ulterior motive against him and cast me aside as a result? Oh, how I wish I knew what he was thinking.

It was only when Ian had agreed to keep her company and showed no displeasure in doing so that the knot in her chest began to loosen. Unnoticed by her, a joyful feeling that put a spring in her step rose within her.

Soon, the scent of freshly baked tarts informed the pair that they had arrived at the farmer's house.