Today, heavy rain fell, pattering down onto the courtyard, soaking the orange blossom tree in the corner and scattering petals across the ground.
Yu Zhiling leaned lazily against the windowsill, letting out a yawn.
"Sleepy?"
A warm embrace enveloped her from behind, accompanied by the faint, soothing scent of agarwood.
Without turning around, Yu Zhiling rested her cheek against the sill and sighed listlessly, "I’m bored. Play cards with me?"
Mo Zhu: "…What?"
Yu Zhiling shot him a glare. "Do you know how to play Monopoly?"
Mo Zhu: "…No."
"How about Landlord?"
"…No."
Yu Zhiling kicked him lightly. "You spent twenty-four years there and didn’t learn anything?"
Mo Zhu wrapped his arms around her, coaxing gently. "I never played those. My days were spent meditating, sleeping, or listening to reports about my master’s condition."
At his words, Yu Zhiling’s irritation melted away. Her lips pursed slightly as she stammered, "F-Fine. I’ll teach you later."
She turned to face him, and her gaze drifted to the painting frame hanging on the opposite wall. Suddenly remembering something, she quickly asked, "What about the painting you promised me? Did you finish it?"
She had many little moods, but only Mo Zhu was privy to them—and he delighted in indulging her. Seeing his easily riled master flare up again, he chuckled and humored her. "It’s done. Would you like to see it, Master?"
Yu Zhiling’s lips curled, her chin lifting like a proud little fox. "Of course. Let me take a look—and maybe give you some pointers."
Mo Zhu had completed the painting long ago, waiting for her to remember. But in the past few days, she hadn’t mentioned it, so he kept it hidden.
Yu Zhiling followed him to the study—though it was less a study and more a storage space for her collection of romance novels.
The desk was spacious. As Mo Zhu retrieved the scroll and began untying the ribbon, Yu Zhiling stopped him.
"Wait, let me do it."
Mo Zhu froze for just a second before she snatched it from him. With an eager smile, she carefully unrolled the painting.
The young man stood straight, watching her nervously. His skills in brushwork weren’t refined, and this piece had taken him over half a year, each stroke deliberate.
When she remained silent, staring at the painting, Mo Zhu grew uneasy. "Master… is it acceptable?"
Yu Zhiling asked softly, "Why did you choose this scene?"
"Because it was beautiful. Because it was so beautiful." Mo Zhu stepped closer, gazing at the unfurled painting with her. "That was the first time, after you returned, that I felt something familiar in you."
The painting depicted two figures—one tall, one shorter. A woman in green robes stood on stone steps, a sword in hand, her chin lifted proudly. Even her windswept hair couldn’t obscure her radiant confidence as she looked down at the young man below.
The black-clad youth gazed up at her, his tall frame and sharp profile unmistakable even without clear facial details. His attention was wholly fixed on her.
It was the night Yu Zhiling had returned to this world and summoned Mo Zhu.
To test whether she was truly injured, he had provoked her into using "Shaking the Stars"—a sword technique that sent arcs of light cascading like falling stars, their force whipping both their hair into the air.
"'Shaking the Stars' was the move you used to save me when I was a child. That night you returned… was the first time I felt that maybe, just maybe, you really were her."
Mo Zhu rested his chin on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Do you like it?"
Yu Zhiling couldn’t suppress her smile. Her fingertips brushed the painted figures. She had imagined many possibilities—a kiss, the two of them side by side—but never their first reunion.
"…Not bad."
Not bad? Mo Zhu’s brushwork might not be masterful, but his intuition was sharp, and he learned quickly. This painting had clearly taken immense effort—not a masterpiece, but vivid and full of life.
At the very least, he had made her look beautiful.
That was the master’s verdict.
Her disciple chuckled. "Shall we hang it up?"
Yu Zhiling carefully rolled the painting and turned to kiss his lips. "I’ll do it."
"Alright."
Mo Zhu watched as she climbed onto the table, standing to place the painting into its frame with meticulous care. Her movements were tender, her eyes alight with affection—her emotions bold and unrestrained.
The more he looked at her, the more his heart softened.
Yu Zhiling hopped down, throwing herself into his arms and nipping at his lower lip.
"Who knew you were good at everything?"
Mo Zhu wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her effortlessly. Yu Zhiling’s legs wrapped around his hips as he carried her out, one hand supporting her.
"I’m good at other things too. Want to see?"
Yu Zhiling rolled her eyes. "It’s not even nighttime yet."
Mo Zhu blinked innocently. "A dirty mind sees dirt everywhere."
"Mo Zhu!" The master smacked his shoulder.
Mo Zhu’s laughter was bright and carefree as he carried Yu Zhiling toward the back mountain. "Let’s go see your disciple’s 'golden house.'"
To preserve the surprise, Yu Zhiling hadn’t visited the back mountain in weeks. She had no idea what awaited her.
Narrowing her eyes, she asked, "You didn’t… actually build me a golden house, did you? Solid gold? Authentic?"
Mo Zhu pecked her lips. "You’ll see."
Yu Zhiling giggled, nestling into his embrace as he carried her up the mountain, chattering in his ear the whole way.
"A real golden house?"
"Wouldn’t solid gold be too flashy? How would we sleep without being blinded?"
"How much did you spend? Do you still have enough money? I can cover it."
Mo Zhu’s smile never faded.
Fifteen minutes later, Yu Zhiling stared at the cave dwelling in silence.
"…This is the 'golden house'?"
It was just a hollowed-out space in the mountain. From the outside, only faint light was visible, but she couldn’t make out any details from this distance.
"Go inside," Mo Zhu urged, carrying her in.
The interior was brilliantly lit. Though dusk had fallen outside, the cave was as bright as noon.
Yu Zhiling wasn’t as afraid of the dark as she used to be—her inner demons were fading—but Mo Zhu still filled their home with lanterns and left a window slightly ajar at night. Perhaps only when she fully conquered her fear would these habits stop.
At the center was a hot spring, twice the size of the one in their bathing chamber, its steam curling in delicate wisps.
Beyond a large folding screen stood a round bed piled with thick silk quilts—luxurious and impossibly soft.
The air outside was warm, but inside, it was pleasantly cool.
Yu Zhiling glanced around. This was essentially a fully furnished bedroom, complete with every necessity—and all of the highest quality.
Puzzled, she asked, "Why did you make this?"
Mo Zhu buried his face against her neck, kissing her skin as he murmured, "Master, didn’t you say it was too hot? It’s June now, and this isn’t Listening Spring Cliff. Nights are warmer here, but the cave stays cool."
"You even built an air-conditioned room?" Yu Zhiling’s neck tingled, and she squirmed away. "Are you seriously planning to hide your master away in a golden cage?"
She meant it as a joke, but her little disciple, his teeth grazing her soft flesh, replied in a husky voice, "Yes. Hide you away—only for me to see."
A teng serpent was still a serpent, and nest-building was instinctual.
They loved cool, shadowy caves, spacious hot springs, deep and secluded spaces—and most of all, they loved dragging their mates into dens saturated with their own scent, shedding their human forms.
Yu Zhiling’s waist went weak. She pressed a hand against his chest. "Wait, it’s not even nighttime yet."
Her disciple had already deftly undone her sash. "Just once. We’ll eat afterward."
"Mo Zhu!" Yu Zhiling flushed with embarrassment. She had dressed lightly in the house—after all, only she and Mo Zhu lived there—but now that carelessness worked to the advantage of a certain serpent brat. With her outer robe gone, only her thin undergarments remained.
Mo Zhu swiftly stripped them both and guided her into the hot spring. The water wasn’t scalding, just warm, carrying a faint fragrance.
Yu Zhiling covered her chest and shrank into the corner, glaring at him. "Can’t you take a single day off?!"
Mo Zhu chuckled lowly, stepping closer until his body pressed against hers. He kissed the shell of her ear. "Try it. I built this spring myself—extra large."
"Why did you… ah! Don’t bite." Yu Zhiling gasped, her voice softening. "Why make it so big?"
Mo Zhu mumbled against her skin, "To try new things."
A cool, scaly touch coiled around her calf, the ridges of his serpentine tail gliding upward inch by inch. Yu Zhiling froze, then turned her head in disbelief.
Mo Zhu was already lavishing attention on her neck, his kisses fervent and possessive. But unlike before, fine scales now crept along the side of his neck, and his dark eyes had split into golden vertical slits.
To be fair, a teng serpent’s true form wasn’t quite like an ordinary snake. They bore wings fit for soaring through the skies, their scales thick and majestic—jet-black with golden patterns, exuding solemn grandeur.
Yu Zhiling instantly realized his intentions. She struggled and raised her voice. "Mo Zhu! You’re going too far!"
Mo Zhu pinned her firmly against the spring’s edge, one hand caressing her while the other gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him. He kissed the corner of her lips, his voice laced with coaxing and a hint of a whine. "Just try it."
He seized her wrist, counting on the fact that she wouldn’t strike him with spiritual power, and guided her hand to his abdomen. Half insistent, half persuasive—since she wouldn’t attack him, he indulged himself freely.
"Mo Zhu!"
Yu Zhiling’s fingers brushed over his defined muscles, but where his skin was usually smooth, she now felt roughness—scales.
The master tried to reason with her disciple. "Mo Zhu, can’t we keep it normal?!"
"Master, it’s fine." Mo Zhu’s grip tightened, urging her onward. Yu Zhiling’s soft fingertips traced the flat, overlapping scales until they stumbled upon an uneven patch. Mo Zhu stilled. Her cheeks burned, her pulse frantic, and curiosity got the better of her—she pressed down.
"What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Why are these two scales raised?"
Mo Zhu groaned, his body suddenly collapsing against her, his chin thudding onto her shoulder.
"Mo Zhu!" Yu Zhiling caught him in a panic, arms wrapping around his waist. His body burned feverishly against hers, and the serpent tail coiled around her legs grew warmer.
She glanced down—and watched as two scales slowly parted.
Yu Zhiling: "..."
"You shameless bastard! Get lost!"
The master scrambled for the edge of the spring, but Mo Zhu seized her ankle and yanked her back.
Water splashed violently. Yu Zhiling nearly choked before being hauled up. She wiped her face, only to feel a weight against her lower back—her body was pressed against the stone wall as someone moved behind her.
"Master, just once."
Yu Zhiling twisted to look, but before she could speak, Mo Zhu’s scorching kiss swallowed her words. What followed was beyond her control. From dusk until deep into the night, whenever her legs gave out, he turned her around and lifted her into his arms. The half-serpent form was an entirely different experience from his human one, and she unraveled again and again.
Now she understood why he had built such a large spring—even in his smaller form, a teng serpent’s massive tail couldn’t fit on an ordinary bed.
When he finally finished, Yu Zhiling slumped over his shoulder, struggling to breathe. Mo Zhu retracted his tail, carried her out of the spring, and laid her on the bed, where she collapsed atop him.
Eyes shut, she panted, her lashes damp. Mo Zhu wiped away the moisture with his thumb, his other hand soothing her back. "Are you alright? Does anything hurt?"
Yu Zhiling frowned, blinking slowly as she regained her senses—then she stiffened. Her glare returned. "Get out!"
Mo Zhu chose this moment to act spoiled, nuzzling against her with a whine. "Just a little longer."
"Out!"
"If I leave, who’ll keep you company?"
"You lunatic!"
"One more kiss. Just one."
Mo Zhu shamelessly cut off her protests, cupping the back of her head and sealing his lips over hers, his tongue teasing hers. Yu Zhiling whimpered—then the world spun. He flipped her onto her back, climbing over her and effortlessly lifting her legs.
His voice was rough. "One more time. The last time."
Yu Zhiling slapped him again.
The master regretted everything—this lying, deceitful serpent brat!
