Javier Sinclair could understand what Celeste Grant was saying, but he found her choice of words rather novel.

’Villain?’ That did fit his identity.

Celeste Grant glanced at him and said with a smile, "There’s nothing wrong with being the villainous Archfiend. You’re always powerful, and it’s always a thrill."

As she spoke, her thoughts turned to the female supporting character in the book, and she couldn’t help but add, "You have no idea how tragic her fate was according to the plot. She was thrown to some Evil Cultivators, who abused her and got her pregnant. After she gave birth to a son, his Spirit Root was dug out and transplanted into the heroine’s son. She finally managed to awaken her own Spirit Root and join an Immortal Sect to get revenge, but in the end, her Spirit Root was dug out, her Cultivation was destroyed, and she was stabbed to death. Oh, and her parents too. Basically, as the vicious female support’s family, they were all neatly wiped out."

As she reached this point, her voice held a hint of regret and sadness for the female support in the book.

This time, Javier Sinclair didn’t speak, but his grip on her hand tightened slightly.

After a long silence, he said in a low voice, "I didn’t know about any of this."

But he also latched onto the key point.

"So, in this story, we weren’t together, were we?"

Celeste Grant paused for a moment.

"Of course not!"

In the book, the female supporting character and Javier Sinclair had never even met, and the child she carried wasn’t his. The plot had only changed because she had transmigrated into the book, met him, and caused the story to deviate. That was why she had given birth to the son of the Archfiend, Javier Sinclair.

Therefore, from the very beginning, Javier Sinclair was *her* husband and had nothing to do with the book’s female supporting character.

Thinking of this,

Celeste Grant said with a smile.

"In the original plot, the female support and the great villain never even met."

Javier Sinclair was speechless.

’They never even met? How could they not set me up with such a wonderful wife?’

"Who wrote this garbage? We weren’t even together? We never even met? If I find out who wrote this, I’ll twist their head off."

Celeste Grant looked at him.

"Is that really the main point?"

Javier Sinclair nodded.

"Isn’t this serious? You’re my wife, but in that story, we never even met. Is that right?" he said, taking her hand and pressing it to his cheek. "Thank goodness things are different now." 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

He didn’t care what story or plot this world originally had. All Javier Sinclair knew was that Celeste Grant was the wife he had properly married.

If that so-called plot dared to separate them, Javier Sinclair would tear through the void itself to find the person who wrote the story. He would put a blade to their throat and force them to rewrite it.

"Celeste Grant, you’ve done very well. What is fate? An unjust fate like that is meant to be trampled underfoot."

Seeing him trying to comfort her, Celeste Grant smiled and said, "Don’t worry, I’m fine. I already told you, that was just the original development of the story. As for where it’s going now... the plot has derailed so completely that even the original author wouldn’t recognize it."

As the two were talking,

「Just then, outside the barrier.」

Jocelyn Grant’s voice rang out.

"Don’t go."

"My child, it’s me, your mother!"

Hearing the voice,

Celeste Grant glanced over.

She saw Jocelyn Grant reach out and grab the hand of the boy walking in front of her, an urgent expression on her face. Because the boy was frail and had no cultivation whatsoever, he staggered when she grabbed him.

Inside the barrier, Javier Sinclair and Celeste Grant were sitting in a pavilion, each eating a skewer of grilled meat. With matching postures and gazes, they both looked out beyond the barrier like a pair of spectators ready for some drama.

"So that’s Jocelyn Grant’s son. Judging by his age, he must be the son of Jocelyn Grant and Liam Yardley. I’d heard he was being kept alive with all sorts of Spiritual Medicines. I’m surprised he’s still alive."

Celeste Grant’s gaze swept over the boy, and she noticed that his body had already recovered. However, even with his health restored, Jocelyn Grant’s son was just an ordinary person who couldn’t practice cultivation.

Javier Sinclair spoke up. "So, Jocelyn Grant wanted to dig out our son’s Spirit Root... to give to *this* son of hers?"

Celeste Grant nodded lightly.

"That’s right."

Javier Sinclair stared at them as if they were already dead. He sneered, "They can dream on. As if they’re worthy."

While the pair spoke in low voices inside the barrier,

「Outside the barrier.」

Upon seeing her son again,

Jocelyn Grant recognized him instantly.

She grabbed her son’s arms with both hands, her expression agitated. Looking at his familiar features and frail body, Jocelyn Grant couldn’t stop herself from crying.

She reached out and pulled him into an embrace.

"Ronan... It’s me, Mother."

"Do you remember me? I’m your mother."

"My son... I’ve finally found you. My dear Ronan... Mother missed you so much."

’It must be Brother Young’s spirit watching over me from the heavens,’ she thought. ’He couldn’t bear to see me suffer the pain of being separated from my son, so he sent him to me.’

The last time she held her son, he was still so little. He was only two years old then. In the blink of an eye, so many years had passed. In a flash, her son was already this grown up.

After being separated from her son for so long, they were finally reunited.

"From now on, Mother will make it up to you."

"I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault for only finding you now."

She had missed him so, so much.

From now on, she would make up for all the years of neglect.

Held in Jocelyn Grant’s embrace,

Ronan Yardley didn’t speak. He just stood there silently, because he truly didn’t know how to describe his current feelings.

He recognized her. He had watched the Memory Stone countless times, waiting for her, hoping she would appear. Everyone else had their mother by their side, but he didn’t. People he knew even called him a good-for-nothing, born but not raised by his mother.

’This wasn’t the first time he’d asked himself: did this woman who gave birth to him truly see him as her son? If she did, why hadn’t she looked for him or come to see him even once in all these years?’

Seeing this woman again, he felt no joy, only a profound calm in his heart.

When he remained silent, Jocelyn Grant loosened her embrace and gazed at his face.

She reached out, a little awkwardly, to stroke her son’s head and then his face, but Ronan Yardley dodged her touch.

Seeing this, Jocelyn Grant’s heart ached.

"Ronan, is it that you don’t recognize me?"

"It’s okay. You were still little when I left, so it’s normal not to recognize me. I’m Jocelyn Grant. Your father must have told you about me. I’m your birth mother. It feels like you were still so small, and in the blink of an eye, you’ve grown so big."

Ronan Yardley glanced at her and pried her hand away. He looked at her with a serious expression and said, "I recognize you. I’ve seen you in the Memory Stone Dad gave me. And I know you’re my mother."

Jocelyn Grant was momentarily stunned.

’Ronan said he recognized her. But if he recognized her, shouldn’t they be crying in each other’s arms after being separated for so long? Why was he so cold toward her? No, no, she was probably just overthinking it.’

’The fact that he still recognized her was proof enough that Ronan had been thinking of her all this time, yearning for her.’

"Ronan, you were still thinking of me. Mother is so happy."

She hugged her son again, her voice choked with emotion. "We’ll never be separated again."