The Cold and Sickly Wife I Picked Up Can't Possibly Be the World-Ending Witch

At the edge of the Central Continent, in the village of Buena, nestled among mountains and ancient forests, the morning mist had not yet fully faded.

Sunlight filtered through the thin morning haze like bundles of golden yarn, gently draping over the scattered wooden rooftops. The distant crowing of roosters echoed in succession, awakening this small village slumbering in a quiet corner of the world.

Lynch pushed open the heavy oak door. A crisp mountain breeze, carrying the earthy fragrance of soil and fresh grass, brushed against his face, instantly clearing his groggy mind. Standing on the steps of his courtyard, he habitually gave a deep stretch, his joints popping with a satisfying crunch.

"Another peaceful day."

Lynch sighed softly, his gaze sweeping across the lush herb garden in the courtyard. These were his carefully cultivated Bloodclot Grass, Moonflowers, and Tranquility Leaves. Right now, they were adorned with crystal-clear dewdrops, shimmering faintly in the morning light.

It had been eighteen years since he arrived in this world of swords and magic known as Alfastia.

In his previous life, he was a miserable medical student who suffered sudden cardiac arrest after pulling all-nighters during finals week. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself as an orphan in this otherworldly village. He had no illustrious background, no earth-shattering talents, and even the standard cheat "system" for transmigrators had been delayed for eighteen whole years.

However, none of this stopped Lynch from living a fulfilling life in this world.

Relying on the half-baked medical knowledge from his past life and a few clumsy healing prayers he had shamelessly begged the old village priest to teach him, Lynch had somehow managed to become Buena Village's sole apothecary.

While he couldn't compare to those senior transmigrators who casually slaughtered gods, annihilated demons, and gathered harems of three thousand beauties, in a world where the average lifespan was rather short, having a respected trade was enough. Being able to eat well, dress warmly, and have spare change to occasionally buy an alcoholic beverage in town—called "ale", but tasting more like horse piss—made Lynch feel that his life was already quite successful.

It was ordinary, stable, and happy.

That was until half a year ago, when a turning point abruptly descended.

According to the passionate, spittle-flying tales of traveling bards, the strongest champion of the righteous human faction, the Holy Son of the Eternal Radiant Moon, and the world-destroying demon witch known as the Crimson Calamity, had engaged in an ultimate, history-making battle in the distant northern scorched lands.

The battle supposedly shattered the heavens and cracked the earth, plunging the sun and moon into darkness. The clash of forbidden spells released by both sides triggered massive spatial turbulences. Rumor had it that there was no victor; the Holy Son and the witch perished together, and the overflowing energy from their clash tore through space, randomly teleporting everything around the battlefield to various corners of the world.

Of course, such clashes between divine beings originally had absolutely nothing to do with Lynch, a lowly apothecary in a remote mountain village.

That was until one day, while Lynch was carrying his basket to gather herbs in the back mountains, a beautiful girl with silver hair and purple eyes fell out of nowhere from a spatial tear. With pinpoint accuracy, she landed squarely on his basket, completely crushing the premium Bloodclot Grass he had worked so hard to collect.

At the time, the girl was covered in blood, her breathing as faint as a candle flickering in the wind. Her originally gorgeous and intricate black gothic dress was torn to shreds, and her exposed skin was covered in shocking, gruesome wounds.

Out of a healer's instinct—though admittedly, mostly because of her breathtakingly otherworldly beauty—Lynch carried her back home and tended to her with meticulous care day and night.

Three months later, the girl miraculously pulled through.

Although her body remained frail, prone to bouts of coughing, and her face was always pale and bloodless—giving her the appearance of a sickly beauty who might blow away with the wind at any moment—her life had been saved.

Unfortunately, upon waking, the girl seemed to have fallen victim to the cliché amnesia trope. She only remembered that her name was Felsy. As for who she was, where she came from, or why she had suffered such grievous injuries, she drew a complete blank.

Looking at the girl sitting by the window, looking as lost and bewildered as a delicate porcelain doll, Lynch found himself inexplicably possessed by a sudden urge and shamelessly proposed to her.

"Since you have nowhere to go and no family to turn to, why not stay here with me? I will take good care of you, provide you with food and clothes, and treat your illness."

"Since we will be living under the same roof anyway, rather than giving the villagers a reason to gossip, why don't we... just make do and get married?"

"I know we still don't understand each other well enough, and our romantic foundation is practically zero, but please believe me, I will work hard to make you happy!"

Thinking back on it now, he had definitely let lust cloud his judgment!

After all, Felsy was so beautiful it felt unreal. In a village where people generally had tanned complexions and rough skin, she looked like an angel who had accidentally wandered into the mortal realm. Her long silver hair, deep purple eyes, and the noble, aloof aura that shone through even in sickness—to Lynch, a virgin who had been single for two lifetimes, her charm was practically a nuclear weapon.

The moment the words left his mouth, Lynch regretted it, feeling like a complete scoundrel taking advantage of her vulnerability.

However, before he could even figure out how to backtrack, the girl, who had maintained a cool, expressionless face the entire time, merely gave him a faint glance and gave a gentle nod.

"I have no objections."

Her response was crisp and decisive, without the slightest hint of coyness.

...Which brought them to today. Counting the days, it had been nearly three months since he married Felsy.

It was an experience straight out of a dream. He had inexplicably picked up a wife, and although she was excessively aloof and treated words like gold, their life together was surprisingly harmonious and in sync.

Having finished his daily morning routine of pruning the medicinal plants, Lynch brushed the dirt off his hands and returned to the courtyard.

When he looked up, he noticed that Felsy had woken up at some point.

She was standing on the ground dappled with morning light, staring blankly at the rather old jujube tree in the courtyard.

She was wearing an inexpensive but perfectly fitted off-white cotton nightgown, which Lynch had specially commissioned from the tailor in town. The simple cut outlined her tall, slender figure, her slightly youthful yet soft curves faintly visible in the morning light. Although she appeared somewhat frail from her recent recovery, the subtle hints of a full figure beneath the fabric still made Lynch's heart race, no matter how many times he saw her.

Her silky, clean silver hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, shimmering in the sunlight. Her porcelain skin was almost translucent, and her exquisite features were entirely flawless. Those deep purple eyes were as profound as the sea, betraying no emotion, and she wore her usual stoic, expressionless look.

"Good morning, Felsy," Lynch greeted with a smile, an unconscious gentleness in his voice.

Felsy tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on him for a brief moment before she softly replied, "Mhm."

Still as aloof as ever, huh...

But Lynch was already used to this by now. Over the past three months, she had always been like this. Rather than calling her cold, it was more accurate to say she was... adorably clueless?

Lynch stepped up behind her. With a flick of his wrist, as if performing a magic trick, a smooth walnut comb appeared out of thin air in his hand.

He naturally gathered a lock of Felsy's long hair and began to comb it for her.

When Lynch's fingers accidentally brushed against Felsy's smooth shoulder, her body trembled almost imperceptibly. Her right hand subconsciously rose a fraction, fingers instantly pulling taut. It was a spellcasting wind-up motion etched deep into her subconscious.

The very next second, however, the steady breathing of the young man behind her, along with his faint, fresh scent mixed with herbs, caused Felsy's taut nerves to rapidly relax.

She lowered her hand, allowing Lynch to do as he pleased with her hair.

As the wooden comb glided through her tresses with a soft rustling sound, a nearly imperceptible trace of lazy enjoyment surfaced on Felsy's perpetually stoic face, making her look much like a cat having its fur stroked.

Unfortunately, from his angle, Lynch couldn't see this at all.

In truth, Lynch's attention wasn't on Felsy's expression anyway. He was entirely captivated by the translucent blue holographic screen that had suddenly popped up before his eyes.

[A masterful scheme! Detected that the host is making contact with a high-risk target—the World-Ending Witch!] [With fearless courage, you are grooming the Witch's hair. This seemingly tender gesture is, in fact, a ploy to paralyze her will and lower her guard! You have successfully lured her into a completely defenseless state, slightly increasing the success rate of a sneak attack!] [Reward: Free Attribute Point +0.1]

Reading these melodramatic, overly edgy lines of text, the corners of Lynch's mouth could not help but twitch twice.

On the very night he married Felsy, right in the bridal chamber (although absolutely nothing happened), Lynch finally activated the standard-issue cheat for transmigrators—a System.

Although it was eighteen years late, as the saying goes, good things come to those who wait. Since it was a cheat designed to help him grow stronger, having one was certainly better than nothing.

However, Lynch quickly realized that this System... seemed to have a few screws loose.

It had actually identified his delicate newlywed wife Felsy—a girl who would lose her breath after taking just two steps and hide behind him terrified at the mere sight of a mouse—as the legendary World-Ending Witch!

Oh, please! How could that even be possible?

The real World-Ending Witch was known as the Crimson Calamity, a terrifying entity who could reduce an entire city to ashes with a single glare. Furthermore, rumor had it that she had already perished alongside the Holy Son in the Final Battle, leaving not even a single bone behind.

Then look at his own wife, Felsy. Physically frail and introverted, apart from being exceptionally pretty, she was just an ordinary human girl. Due to her poor health, she couldn't even lift a somewhat heavy bucket of water.

To associate these two with each other was simply the greatest joke in the world.

Therefore, after three months of observation and analysis, Lynch arrived at the only logical conclusion:

This was absolutely the legendary Contrast System trope!

It was the classic trope where the System suffers from a severe cognitive error or bug, misidentifying ordinary Object A as terrifying Entity B. As a result, even if the host is just doing trivial daily chores, the System judges them to be accomplishing earth-shattering feats, thereby mistakenly handing out massive rewards!

Lynch had been a veteran web novel reader before he transmigrated, so he was intimately familiar with this kind of plotline.

Obviously, this was an incredibly good thing for him!

In truth, Lynch didn't harbor much ambition for his current life. He had no desire to conquer the world, nor did he wish to ascend to godhood. Having a stable job with a steady income, along with a beautiful, cute wife who relied on him—this was already the absolute peak of a transmigrator's life.

If the System had actually been like the ones in other novels, issuing quests like Slay the Dragon, Save the World, or Abyssal Trials, forcing him into a life-and-death struggle every day, Lynch would have uninstalled it in a heartbeat (if that were even possible).

Fortunately, this was a mentally deficient... oh wait, a Contrast System.

This meant that Lynch didn't need to risk his life. As long as he stayed home and took good care of his wife—eating meals with her, combing her hair, and chatting—the System would judge him as conquering the Witch or suppressing the Demon King, thereby showering him with various rewards.

Take the free attribute point he just obtained, for example.

Don't look down on a mere 0.1 point. In this world known as Alfastia, improving one's attributes was incredibly difficult for ordinary people. For the Halian race, which made up the largest demographic of humanity, the average baseline for individual attributes like strength and agility in an adult male was only around 10 points. To increase a stat by just a single point could require months of grueling physical training.

In other words, just by combing his wife's hair every morning, he could gain a physical enhancement equivalent to 1 percent of a normal adult male's total capacity—and it was freely allocatable, to boot!

This was practically free power.

If he had to follow the System's intended logic (actually trying to conquer the World-Ending Witch), it would undoubtedly be a hellish, lethal mission where he could die at any second. But now, thanks to the System's cognitive bias, it had turned into a simple hair-combing simulator.

How incredibly lucky.

Over the three months since they got married, Lynch had been exploiting this beautiful bug to farm points. Even though he had no interest in pursuing absolute power, in a world filled with supernatural magical beasts and magic, steadily increasing his strength to better protect himself was never a bad idea.

Looking at the attribute values on his System panel, which already far exceeded those of an ordinary person, Lynch felt a surge of secret satisfaction.

"Alright, all done."

Lynch set down the comb and looked at the silky-smooth silver hair before him, nodding in satisfaction.

"Your hair looks fantastic today too, not bad at all!"