Free Web NovelChapter 2: 2 | Life With Three Ex-Heroines
"When fate hands you three lemons, make three cups of lemonade." — Dale Carnegie
—-
Dexter tried sleeping but it refused to claim him just like his father...
Eventually, he ended up cultivating through the night. The Starlight Meditation Technique extracts mana from the sun and the stars to increases one’s cultivation level.
Hero levels are graded: Awakened Hero also called Meta Heroes (1 to 12), Super Hero (1 to 12), Ultra Hero (1 to 12), Transcendent (Initial, Mid, Advance, Peak), Supreme (Initial, Mid, Advance, Peak), and Legend.
But Dexter possesses the lowest mana affinity: F rank, even comparable to an ordinary human. Absorbing mana to him is like trying to catch a fish with greasy hands, mana slips away.
But the meditation itself had another benefit, it clears one’s mind. By the time it was morning, he felt relaxed, calm and refreshed.
He stood up and stretched.
"Pop!"
His spine popped, then he went to the bathroom.
The hot water thankfully worked. He turned the tap and let it run until steam curled up from the basin, fogging the mirror.
He brushed, showered quickly, dressed in a grey t-shirt and dark joggers then padded to the kitchen on bare feet.
The kitchen was small and outdated, but functional. He opened the cupboards, found rice, a few eggs, some dried mushrooms, and a bottle of soy sauce.
Then he remembered the wedding gift boxes still out in the entrance. Luckily they had a gate.
He dragged them into the kitchen and started unpacking.
Most of it was useless jewelry, he found practical items though: bags of dried grains, canned soups, instant noodles, tea, and a small container of brown sugar.
He cooked. Rice porridge with dried mushrooms and soft-boiled egg on the side.
While it simmered, he set the small dining table. Four bowls, four spoons, four cups of hot tea.
Then he went to the master bedroom.
The door was open and Mira was already in her wheelchair, parked near the window, staring at nothing.
Her hair was tangled around her face, and her wedding dress was wrinkled.
Selene was still in bed, lying on her back, her eyes open and fixed on the ceiling, looking like she hadn’t moved all night.
Lyra was sitting upright at the edge of the mattress, with her hands folded neatly in her lap.
Dexter typed on his phone and held it out to Lyra:
[Breakfast is ready. Can you help Selene to the table?]
Lyra read the message. But instead of nodding, she hesitated. She raised one hand and pointed a slender finger at her own mouth.
Dexter blinked in confusion. "What?"
She pointed again.
"Oh! Sorry!"
They hadn’t brushed their teeth, washed their faces or bathed yet.
He pressed his lips together and typed:
[Hold on. Two minutes.]
Going back to the gift boxes and dug through them. Toothbrushes—still in packaging. Toothpaste. Two bars of soap. A bottle of lotion. A comb. He gathered everything up, carried it to the bedroom, and set it on the nightstand.
He unpackaged an electric toothbrush, applied toothpaste, and held it out to Lyra. She took it. Their fingers briefly brushed and it was ice cold making Dexter raise an eyebrow.
Gave Selene another and then turned to Mira.
"Open your mouth."
Mira’s eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"
"Open. Your mouth."
"You can’t just—"
Mid sentence, Dexter slid the toothbrush between her teeth and flicked it on.
Mira’s eyes went wide, then narrowed into a glare so sharp it could have cut diamond. She sat there with indignation as toothpaste foam was gathering at the corner of her lips.
Dexter felt happy for shutting her up and grinned.
He held up a small basin. "Spit."
She spat hard, making a bit of foam splash and land on his wrist.
"I thought you might prefer your women to swallow," Mira said with disdain. "Guess I was wrong."
Dexter was stunned. ’This girl is crazier than I thought!’ He shook his head and brought a bottle of water to her mouth.
"Rinse."
She smirked but opened her mouth to drink the water and rinsed then spat it out.
He took the toiletries to the bathroom, washed his hands, and came back. He stood in front of her wheelchair and asked.
"Do you need help with the restroom, or do you want to bathe first?"
Mira didn’t look at him. She stared at the wall beside her. "I’m paralyzed, in case you hadn’t noticed. Or do you see a pair of working legs I don’t know about?"
Dexter chuckled. "Will tell Lyra to assist you."
Dexter was about to leave when he heard a small voice. "D-don’t."
Dexter stopped dead in his tracks and frowned.
’What does she mean by ’don’t?’ Does she actually want me to do it myself? Hell no.’
She had practically called him a pervert last night, if he did this, he would be a true pervert in her eyes.
He was about to reject but as he saw her sitting unmoving, face down and looking all sad.
’Ah! Fuck me!’
He cursed in his mind and inhaled sharply, unlocked Mira’s wheelchair and pushed her through the hallway.
The bathroom was small with a toilet, a sink, and an old cast-iron bathtub with clawed feet. He’d scrubbed it earlier that morning while the water was heating.
"Toilet or bathtub first?"
She replied in a quiet voice. "Toilet,"
She was still wearing the wedding dress. Dexter knelt in front of her, wrapped one arm around her waist, and lifted. Her body pressed against his chest and it was warm. He could feel breasts and even count her ribs through the cloth.
Dexter’s expression didn’t change and with his free hand, he found the zipper at the back of her dress and pulled it down.
Underneath, she wore a plain sports bra and cotton briefs. Her skin was pale, milky and ungodly smooth.
"Do you like what you see?" Her voice cracked slightly.
Dexter scoffed. "I’ve seen thousands of beautiful women on Cornhub. What makes you think yours is special?"
"Y-you!"
Mira’s face flushed red in anger but Dexter suddenly removed her panties and placed her securely on the toilet so she wouldn’t fall.
"I’m going to step out now just call me when you’re done."
He pulled the door halfway shut and left to pick up underwear and a dress for her. He saw a flowery gown and smiled. "Perfect."
---
About fifteen minutes later, Mira spoke in a quiet voice. "I’m done."
Dexter entered. He wouldn’t let his gaze linger anywhere it shouldn’t and pressed the button on the smart toilet. The water hissed and Mira stared strangely at it but she said nothing.
When she was clean, Dexter lifted her again and suddenly unclasped her sports bra, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the tile above her head, and gently lowered her into the warm water.
He washed her hands first, her arms, her shoulders and her legs, lathering shampoo into her scalp, rinsing it with a cup. She sat in the tub with her eyes closed, her face turned away, her ears burning red.
He lifted her out, wrapped her in a towel, and patted her dry. Then he picked up the flowery sundress he’d found in her luggage.
"I hate this dress," Mira said. Her voice was tight.
Dexter smirked. "I know. That’s why I picked it."
Mira instantly glared daggers at him. But she couldn’t stop him and could only watch as he put it on her.
He helped her back into the wheelchair and pushed her to the kitchen table.
Meanwhile, Lyra had successfully helped Selene wash up in the other bathroom,
and the two of them were already seated.
Dexter ladled the hot porridge into four bowls.
Lyra gently took Selene’s hand, guiding her fingers to the handle of the spoon until Selene was able to eat on her own.
Mira took a small bite, chewed slowly, and looked up. "It doesn’t actually taste half bad."
Dexter raised an eyebrow. "Was that... a compliment?"
"Don’t push your luck." She retorted drily and went back to eating.
They ate in silence but it was too late when Dexter realized Lyra had consumed more than four people’s worth of porridge.
’How’s this possible? Her body is so thin. Where did all that food go?’
He was stunned.
Lyra noticed him staring and she glanced with her causal expression. But a flush crept up her neck. She was embarrassed but didn’t want to show.
’That was supposed to be our lunch.’
He shook his head, and grabbed his phone, typing.
[It was supposed to be lunch but it’s alright. I will cook more now.]
He held the screen out to her. She read it and looked up at him then hesitantly nodded.
After breakfast, Dexter cleared the table and started washing dishes.
"The great heir of the Ashford family, washing dishes." Mira’s voice sounded out as she mocked.
Dexter rinsed a bowl and set it on the rack. "I’m sure you and your family were quite shocked when you realized I was the one you married and not the legitimate heir. Can’t believe the three great families got scammed. Haha."
Mira eyes twitched and she was suddenly speechless.
Of course Dexter knew the families had been scammed. According to the contract, the three families were promised marriage to the first born of Ashford family, but ended up getting scammed as the bastard son is the first born.
The three families thought it would be easy to form ties with the Ashford family, not knowing it was a trap all along.
Suddenly, a sharp gasp sounded out.
Dexter turned around, Selene was trembling violently on the sofa. The temperature in the room started dropping fast as frost spread across the floorboards, climbing the walls, creeping across the coffee table.
’I read in the file that she’s chronically ill. I didn’t expect it to be this bad.’
’Fuck! Where did I place the medicine her family dropped?’
He panicked and he ran to the hallway where they’d stacked the medical supplies. Quickly unlocked a box with two syringes in it. He took one.
The air around Selene was so cold his fingers went numb the moment he crossed into the frost radius. Ice crystals formed on his eyelashes but he pushed through it, bent down and quickly stabbed the syringe into her.
Nothing happened at first, then the frost stopped spreading as the ice finally cooled.
Dexter grabbed every blanket he could find and wrapped them around her as the tremor slowly faded.
From the doorway, he saw Mira and Lyra.
However, neither of them spoke.
Selene drifted into an exhausted sleep. Her face was ghost-pale, her lips still faintly blue.
---
A few hours after the morning crises, Dexter was lost in thought.
And went to the kitchen, the porridge was gone, the eggs were finished and the dried grains nearly gone. With Lyra’s appetite, they’d burn through what little remained by dinner.
He found Mira in the living room and crouched in front of her wheelchair.
"I need to go to the market. I’ll be back within an hour. Don’t open the door for anyone."
Mira raised an eyebrow. "Yes, master. Shall I have dinner ready when you return, master?"
"Very funny. Don’t open the door."
He told Lyra the same thing via text, made sure Selene was still sleeping comfortably, and left.
---
The corner store was three blocks away. Dexter kept his head down as he moved. He needed rice, vegetables, cooking oil, salt, maybe some meat if it was available.
The shopkeeper stared at him for a while.
"You’re quite popular but I can’t seem to remember where I know you from."
The man’s eyes lit up. "Yeah! From the news. They mention you as the hidden son of the Ashford family."
Then the old man frowned and glanced at Dexter. "Come to think of it, it wasn’t hidden son, it was bastard son. You’re the one that scammed three girls to get married to you hmm?"
The shopkeeper sneered in disgust.
’How did the news get out so fast?’
Dexter frowned and simply greeted the shopkeeper.
"Morning," Dexter said. He started gathering items. "Rice. Two kilos. Cabbage. Carrots. Cooking oil. Salt. And whatever pork you have that’s—"
"We’re low on pork," the shopkeeper interrupted, leaning against the counter. "Prices have gone up."
Dexter paused, his eyes narrowed at the shopkeeper.
"How much?"
"10 dollars per pound."
Dexter’s face turned black.
"That’s twice the market price,"
"Inflation." The shopkeeper shrugged. "Take it or leave it."
Dexter stared at him for a long moment. The man didn’t blink. He knew he had Dexter cornered. Everyone in this neighborhood probably knew by now and might even be worse.
Dexter paid. He counted out the bills, placed them on the counter, and left immediately with his things.
On his way back, he saw a medicine store.
Dexter hesitated but eventually entered the store. He purchased Selene’s suppression medicine which cost 500 dollars per syringe, he bought a week’s worth.
