21st Century Necromancer

Having children—for Chinese people, especially the older, more traditional generation—is the number one priority in life.

Continuing the family line and passing down the bloodline, to traditional Chinese, is more important than almost anything else.

The less affluent and more underdeveloped the region, the more serious this issue is taken. A person can be poor, but they must leave a root behind for their ancestors. In some places, this belief is ingrained deeply into the local consciousness.

Even if it means resorting to stealing, abducting, or deceiving someone, they'll find a way to bring back a woman to have a child. If there's really no other option, they'll even adopt a child to ensure the family's lineage continues.

In wealthier or more educated areas, this phenomenon is somewhat less prevalent. Still, if you're not married, they'll pressure you to get married. Once you're married, they'll pester you to have children. This remains one of the principal sources of stress for young Chinese people today.

Chen Yu used to face such pressure from his family, though that was after he went to Japan to study abroad. His family feared he'd waste his time overseas, so they constantly urged him to find a girlfriend.

But at the time, Chen Yu was obsessed with necromancy. He had absolutely no intention of finding a woman—in fact, he even considered the possibility of crafting a girlfriend out of a corpse, just to appease his family.

Of course, Chen Yu's necromancy expertise at that time couldn't yet solve issues like corpse stench and decomposition. Plus, acquiring a corpse itself was a troublesome ordeal, so this idea never progressed beyond pure fantasy.

As for what happened later, after he joined the workforce, Hiromi Jounouchi made the first move and confessed her feelings to him. After the two fed their cats some dog food—figuratively speaking—he no longer had to worry about the girlfriend issue.

Not long after, his girlfriend became his wife. And now, his wife has upgraded to being a soon-to-be mother. With that change, Chen Yu's family stopped pressuring him and shifted their focus to asking when the baby would arrive.

For most families, having parents who are willing to help care for grandchildren is considered a tremendous blessing—especially in Japan, where it's uncommon for parents to assist their children with childcare. Rarely do children grow up living with their grandparents.

For working couples, when both need to maintain jobs, even minor help—like caring for a pregnant wife during her term—makes an enormous difference.

Yet what most would consider a blessing became a source of reluctance for Chen Yu.

The reason is quite simple: because he's a necromancer.

This secret is something Chen Yu has kept hidden ever since his middle school days, when he narrowly escaped death in an ancient tomb and obtained the *Multiverse Universal Necromancy Spell Compendium*. From that moment, he started concealing his true identity.

At first, it was just the angsty rebellion of a teenage boy who didn't want his parents to know he had secrets. He longed for the dramatic "don't underestimate the young" narrative. But as he began to seriously study necromancy, attending medical school for the sake of it, and later traveling to Japan to further his education, the secret transformed into his biggest asset—a treasure he became increasingly unwilling to share.

A decade of secrecy turned this behavior into a habit.

Until Hiromi Jounouchi burst into his life and shattered Chen Yu's carefully maintained solitude and secrecy. She gradually worked her way into his tightly guarded world, becoming someone he was willing to confide in.

Even so, to this day, Chen Yu hasn't considered telling his parents about his secret.

It's not that he doesn't want to or refuses to—he simply has no idea how to broach the subject.

How would he tell his parents their son of thirty years has become a demigod? Or that he's married to a dragoness? Or worse—that their future grandchild will be a human-dragon hybrid?

One lie requires a hundred others to cover it up. Once a secret is hidden for too long, it entangles itself with too many aspects of your life. It's not a matter of being willing to share anymore—it's a question of how much chaos the revelation would unleash.

The ramifications wouldn't just end with the simple fact of his secret being exposed. The ripple effect could impact his life with Hiromi Jounouchi, his parents' lives, and even those of his relatives and family friends.

Pull one thread, and the entire web unravels. If not handled carefully, Chen Yu might destroy the life he's worked so hard to maintain.

After much deliberation, Chen Yu ultimately decided against letting his mother come to Japan—or, at the very least, ensured she wouldn't stay for an extended period.

After all, his mother is now elderly. As her son, it wouldn't be right or necessary to make his parents go out of their way to care for him anymore.

So, Chen Yu made a phone call to his father, laying out his case and reasoning. Eventually, he managed to convince his parents to stay put and not visit Japan. However, this success came at the cost of yielding to another request: a visit from his third aunt.

As Chen Yu's father put it, they—as parents—were already disappointed they couldn't travel to help take care of their daughter-in-law and witness their grandson's birth. If even Chen Yu's third aunt wasn't permitted to visit, then it would make Chen Yu an unfilial son.

With the concept of filial piety invoked, Chen Yu had no grounds to argue further. He could only let out a bitter laugh and reluctantly agree to his father's suggestion to let his third aunt visit.

Fortunately, it was his third aunt coming to visit—she would only be there to take a look at the situation. This was far easier to manage than having his mother move in for several months to care for his wife.

After all, the third aunt wouldn't be staying in Chen Yu's house. Nor would she linger for long. Armed with a few days in Japan and confirmation of Hiromi Jounouchi's pregnancy, she would head back home quickly. For Chen Yu and Hiromi Jounouchi, this was a much easier situation to handle.

When Hiromi Jounouchi learned Chen Yu had resolved things with his parents, she let out a sigh of relief. Yet, as she relaxed, her thoughts turned toward her own mother.

"Oh no, Ah-Yu—you were able to stall your parents with excuses about passport complications. But what about my mom? What if she finds out and decides to barge in here?" Just as one issue had been resolved, another larger problem dawned on Hiromi Jounouchi.

Hiromi Jounouchi's mother, unlike Chen Yu's, lived right there in Japan. She could easily storm over to Tokyo if she found out. And once she arrived, sending her home would prove nearly impossible.

If mishandled, Hiromi Jounouchi's mother might even develop grievances against the couple.

Yet concealing this kind of news from Hiromi's mother wasn't feasible either. This realization prompted her anxiety to flare up again.

Faced with this predicament, Chen Yu could only offer a wry smile. As a demigod, he had countless methods to prevent Hiromi Jounouchi's mother from coming to Tokyo. Unfortunately, none of those methods were appropriate to use on family.

So, even with all the divine powers at his disposal—along with the possibility of seeking help from the actual deities—Chen Yu could only pray that Hiromi's mother, upon hearing the news, would merely drop by for a visit instead of settling in Tokyo indefinitely.