Chapter 1625 - 1584: A Heart Full of Warmth

With Marcus Quinn’s help, everyone spent half an afternoon binding these crabs and then sent them out via express delivery before dark.

Seeing that there were over 300 crabs left, Athan re-listed the wild autumn crabs, but set the inventory count to 300.

Every day at the Holiday Village was busy and fulfilling, whether it was catching crabs or harvesting chestnuts—these were things Athan had never done before. With Marcus Quinn by her side, a simple glance back would show the man who faithfully stayed beside her, filling her heart with warmth.

She didn’t know when it started, but she began wholeheartedly relying on Marcus Quinn. Even her aesthetic slowly changed. Now hearing Marcus mention marriage, she felt somewhat at a loss.

With her parents gone and no one around to make decisions with, she felt an overwhelming sense of solitude and unease.

Perhaps the day had been too fulfilling, for after dinner, Athan took a bath, let her long hair down, and sat on the bench at the front of the house, staring blankly at the night sky.

Marcus needed to prepare for a trip to the Imperial City, so he arranged the happenings at Anfield Village, chatted with Irving Spencer for a while, and returned to find Athan barefoot, with her hair down, sitting in the yard like a soft, glowing white rabbit. The man walked over, somewhat restrained, picked her up, and carried her inside.

"Marcus, what are you doing?" Athan was caught off guard as she was carried inside. Suspended in the air, she let out a soft cry and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. Seeing the man’s intense gaze made her body tremble slightly.

Marcus placed her on the bed, his tall body enveloping her, then reached to grasp her delicate white foot, speaking hoarsely, "The wind is strong outside, it’s cold."

The man’s rough and dry hands tightly held her little foot, his calloused palms rubbing against her sole, tickling and paining her a bit. Athan’s face quickly turned red as she tried to pull her foot back, but his grasp remained firm, unsuccessful.

The room was very quiet, only their breathing echoing, each breath deeper than the last.

"You smell like sweat; you should go shower." Athan dared not look at him, pretending to dislike him. In truth, the man exuded a faint woody scent without any sweat odor. Despite being habituated to physical labor, Marcus Quinn was quite particular about cleanliness. Besides the masculine musk, there was a subtle pine fragrance, reminiscent of the high-class forbidden aromas she used before—secluded, cool, an aromatic mix of resin and musk.

Upon hearing her words, Marcus paused, then deepened his voice in response, before taking his clothes to shower.

Athan secretly breathed a sigh of relief; their wedding plans were underway, and recently they shared the bed. Marcus no longer slept on the floor, though the bed was spacious, and when they slept, the distance between them was vast. Marcus always maintained propriety, but this night he suddenly embraced her and held her foot, teasing it.

Athan’s heart quivered slightly. Sitting idly for a moment, she watched as Marcus finished showering and returned. The man wore a tank top and shorts, his gaze sharp and bright, with his hair still damp. He walked quietly like a graceful leopard.

Marcus turned off the lights, and the illumination from the courtyard and street lamps behind the house filtered through the window, casting the room in dimness. He climbed into bed, watching Athan quickly shrink under the covers, his gaze darkening as he pulled the blanket open and lay down.

Athan felt her blanket being tugged away, quietly annoyed. The weather wasn’t cold yet; Marcus had prepared this thin quilt for her. He was generally warm-blooded, with a sturdy physique that usually didn’t require a blanket. Yet, now he was taking hers.

Athan, slightly indignant, secretly tugged the blanket back a bit, unexpectedly pulling the man along with it.

Marcus turned to her side, his muscular arm partially supporting himself, and said in a low voice, "Can’t sleep?"

In the darkness, the voice was much lower and hoarser than usual. Athan’s face grew hot, her voice equating to a whisper, "No, I’m going to sleep."

She moved quietly, intending to pull herself closer to the bed’s edge, but encountered the man’s thigh, leading Athan to close her eyes in frustration, wishing she could curl her limbs into herself.

In the dim light, the man focused unwaveringly on her, his eyes fixed on her adorable expression. His lips curved slightly, veins subtly popping on his arm through his restraint, muscles tensing, breath deepening.

So delicate, so soft, so tender; the first time he laid eyes on her, his blood almost froze. Later, sharing a room, encompassed by her scent, he forced himself to stay far to suppress his inner urge.

Life’s thirty years filled with chaos, compliance, darkness, death, obscurity—various hues of gray emotions permeated his existence. Having confronted life and death, shed blood, he thought he would forever live coldly, until she appeared—like that singular ray of light in darkness.

Marcus took a deep breath, then laid back on the bed, breathing heavily, his large hand gripping Athan’s little hand firmly against his chest, letting her feel his rapid heartbeat.

The man’s heart throbbed powerfully with endless strength, making her both fearful and tense, yet faintly anticipating.

"Tomorrow, let’s go to the Imperial City."

"I’m... I also go to the Imperial City?" Athan’s voice resembled that of a delicate kitten.

"Mm," the man replied softly.

The next morning, Athan was awakened by her phone alarm. The man was already gone. She rose, looked at the disheveled sheets, quickly stripped the bedspread and quilt cover, tossed them into the washing machine, then took a bath and changed clothes. After some dawdling, she finally left the house upon hearing Aunt Spencer’s voice in the front yard.

Yesterday’s crabs were all sold; early in the morning, the delivery boy arrived to pick up the last 300 crabs.

Marcus Quinn was packaging crabs when he saw Ata rising. His gaze was bright as he looked over, making Ata’s face flush hot. She quickly turned her eyes away and darted into the dining hall for a meal.

Recently, everyone’s meals were eaten in the dining hall. Occasionally, Marcus Quinn would cook a special meal for her in the small kitchen. However, Ata figured that Marcus wouldn’t be cooking for her for a short while, given that he was busy until late every day. Upon returning to the room, he loved to kiss her, and such kisses were unrestrained, consuming all the time—leaving no time to cook.

"Marcus Quinn, are you still going crab hunting today?" Elder Ong, having finished his breakfast, enthusiastically asked.

The breakfast crowd in the dining hall consisted of guests. Though the resort had been open for over a month, there were still not many residents, averaging just three to five guests a day. This was mainly due to the lack of effective promotion, and since the Holiday Village was close to the county town, the patrons were mostly locals, limiting the market.

"I’m not going today; you all can go crab hunting," Marcus Quinn responded blandly.

"You’re supposed to be leading the team; why aren’t you going, leaving it to us?" Elder Ong, who had been stung several times by crabs during the day, had a love-hate relationship with them and was reluctant to go crab hunting again.

"Because I’m going to the Imperial City with Ata to prepare for the wedding," the man revealed with a rare smile, speaking in a deep voice.

The dining hall instantly exploded with chatter.

"Well, that’s something! You’re getting ready for a wedding? I’ll have to prepare a big red envelope," Elder Ong said with a hearty laugh, as the elderly loved to see young people get married.

"Marcus Quinn, where will the wedding be held? In the Imperial City or at the Holiday Village? Wouldn’t holding it at the Holiday Village be a bit unfair to Ata?" Uncle Shui grinned, feeling obliged to be more concerned since Elder Qi was no longer around.

"Isn’t Marcus’s family in the Imperial City? Wouldn’t you be meeting the parents when you go back? Isn’t the wedding supposed to be held in the Imperial City?" Elder Ong paused in surprise.

Uncle Shui quickly pulled Elder Ong aside.

"Marcus Quinn, have you chosen the date? When you go back to the Imperial City, let Irving Spencer take you to the airport," Aunt Shui said, removing her apron, smiling.

"Congratulations, congratulations indeed, settling down and establishing your career—your grandfather surely would be delighted," Irving Spencer said, reaching out to pat Marcus Quinn’s shoulder.

Marcus smiled and said, "No date set yet, nor the wedding. We plan to register first, and have the wedding later."

"Good idea, register first; the wedding isn’t urgent—you have to decide where to hold it," Uncle Shui laughed.

Ata stretched out her hand to tug at Marcus Quinn, looking up to ask, "Is your family really in the Imperial City?"

Marcus’s dark eyes looked at her, nodded, not hiding anything, "My mother had difficulties during my birth; my father formed another family later—my family is in the Imperial City, but the relationship has been quite distant over the years."

Ata nodded, indicating she understood, not asking further.

Elder Ong, being pulled aside not allowed to talk, was hopping mad—was that explanation so easily given? Marcus’s father re-married, establishing a high position in the Imperial City over the years—not just a regular Imperial City resident. Would Marcus have to slap himself for being so heartless concerning his own matters, resorting to farming at Anfield Village?

"Are we going to the Imperial City tomorrow? So what are we doing today?" Ata asked.

Marcus glanced at the neighboring scenic area, pondered, and said, "Today we’ll go up to the temple to burn incense."

Ata: "..."

Indeed, Marcus took Ata up the mountain to burn incense at the temple that morning.

Oliver Zolotov continued his research, while the Spencer Family and Elder Ong carried baskets down the river to catch crabs.

"By the way, has Marcus ever talked about his family with you?" Elder Ong couldn’t contain himself and asked Uncle Shui.

"This child is taciturn and straightforward; he hasn’t said. We haven’t asked either." Uncle Shui shook his head, said.

"Also, didn’t he say how he retired?"

The Spencer Family continued to shake their heads.

Elder Ong sighed repeatedly; as an outsider, he didn’t know much about Marcus’s family circumstances. Only that Marcus’s father had risen step by step over the years but showed complete indifference toward his son. If Elder Qi knew from beyond the grave, he probably wouldn’t be able to hold his coffin lid down—he’d climb out and confront his son-in-law.