This underground water prison was built beneath a river channel. When the water surged in, everyone inside was submerged—already a perilous situation, made even deadlier by the venomous snakes lurking around. Survival seemed nearly impossible.
Fang Songhe hacked through many snakes and saved several people. By the time he dragged his longsword ashore, he was utterly exhausted, collapsing to his knees.
Many painters, having narrowly escaped death, lay sprawled on the ground, weeping. Amidst the relieved sobs, one particularly loud wail stood out, drawing everyone’s attention.
"Ninth! Ninth!" Chu Sheng knelt by the shore, facing the dark, churning waters under the night sky, shouting desperately, "You can’t die! If you die, what will happen to my daughter?!"
"You better not die, kid! I don’t want to live the rest of my life drowning in guilt!"
"My daughter is so young—she can’t become a widow!"
Hearing that Ninth was in danger, Fang Songhe forced his weary body to move. Stumbling forward, he gasped, "Ninth didn’t make it out?"
Chu Sheng, his face streaked with tears, shook his head. "He got bitten by a snake while saving me!"
Without hesitation, Fang Songhe turned back toward the water.
Chu Sheng lunged and grabbed him. "You’re spent! If you go back in, you’ll die too!"
Fang Songhe struggled. "Ninth is my sworn brother—I can’t abandon him!"
"No! I won’t let you throw your life away!" Chu Sheng clung to him desperately, then gritted his teeth. "This is all my fault. Let this old man pay with his life instead!"
As Chu Sheng tried to rush into the water, Fang Songhe seized him. "Master Chu, you can’t go!"
"Let me! I can’t face my daughter like this!"
"No, I’ll go!"
"You can’t—I’ll go!"
The two drenched men wrestled by the water’s edge, neither willing to yield.
A bystander, equally soaked, watched with amusement. His long white hair, nearly touching the ground, was hastily gathered in his hands. He smacked his lips and asked curiously, "What are you two doing?"
Fang Songhe and Chu Sheng answered in unison, "We’re trying to save someone!"
"Save who?"
"Ninth!" The two turned and froze, their voices cracking in shock. "Ninth!?"
The young man was dripping wet but otherwise unruffled, unlike the others. He took another bite of something in his hand, the bones crunching loudly between his teeth.
Glancing at Chu Sheng’s tear-streaked face and Fang Songhe’s pale, exhausted state, Ninth blinked his crimson eyes, his tone laced with disbelief.
"You two are so weak—who exactly are you planning to save?" He took another bite. "Besides, I don’t need saving."
Two grown men, crying and tugging at each other—how pathetic.
Fang Songhe stepped closer, scrutinizing Ninth head to toe. "If you’re fine, why did you take so long to come out?"
"I was hungry. I have important matters at home—needed to replenish my strength."
"You—you—" Chu Sheng’s trembling finger pointed at the boy. "You’re eating a live snake!?"
With his pale skin smeared with blood, crimson eyes, and half a venomous snake in hand, the white-haired youth looked more like a vengeful ghost than a human.
Ninth belatedly realized—Central Plains people didn’t eat this, nor did they eat it raw. He quickly hid the snake behind his back, avoiding eye contact.
"Father, don’t tell Chu'he."
She had once warned him—if she ever saw him eating bugs, she wouldn’t kiss him again.
The thought made him press his lips together anxiously.
Chu Sheng covered his mouth and turned away, still nauseated.
Fang Songhe, expression complicated, wrung out a damp handkerchief and handed it to Ninth.
Ninth took it without courtesy, wiping his mouth before remarking, "I’ve only seen Central Plains women carry handkerchiefs. First time seeing a man do it—how delicate."
Fang Songhe: "..."
The commotion drew the authorities. Chu Sheng, leveraging his status as a wealthy taxpayer, declared that he and his son-in-law had suffered severe trauma and needed to rest. Any questions could wait until tomorrow.
Fang Songhe cooperated fully, staying behind for questioning while Chu Sheng hurriedly dragged Ninth home.
"Oh heavens! Those murderous fiends have reduced my dashing husband to such a wretched state!"
Bai Lian dabbed her dry, reddened eyes with a handkerchief, leaning toward Chu Sheng. The stench of river water made her recoil slightly, but she quickly resumed her tearful act.
"Master, are you hurt? I’ll summon a physician at once!"
Chu Sheng, eager to bathe, waved her off. "I’m blessed by fortune—nothing could harm me."
Chu'he asked, "Father, are you really unharmed?"
Meeting his daughter’s worried gaze, Chu Sheng softened. "I’m fine. But Ninth was injured saving me."
Chu'he immediately grasped Ninth’s icy hands. "Injured? How bad is it?"
Ninth feigned weakness. "Very bad."
"Show me! Where?"
He lifted his hand, pointing to two fading red dots. "Here."
Chu'he stared.
Ninth added, "It was a venomous snake. Hurt a lot."
Chu'he arched a brow. "Should we try Miaojiang’s remedy—fighting poison with poison?"
Ninth: "...That won’t be necessary."
Chu'he turned. "Father, I’ll take Ninth to clean up."
Chu Sheng waved dismissively. "Go ahead."
Once they left the hall, Bai Lian sneered, "Look at her! The moment she gets a husband, she forgets her father. That Miaojiang boy might look decent, but he’s eerie from head to toe. An embarrassment to be seen with."
"Embarrassment?" Chu Sheng scoffed. "He’s pure-hearted and brave. What’s ‘proper’—someone like you, cooing and swaying with every step?"
He stormed off. "Ridiculous!"
Bai Lian gaped, then stomped her foot. "Who was it that said he loved my ‘improper’ charm!?"
The servants kept their heads down, silent.
Bai Lian flicked her wrist. "All of you—out of my sight!"
Old He ushered the staff away.
Alone, Bai Lian peeked outside, sighing. "Why hasn’t Fang Daxia returned yet? How can I dream sweet dreams without one last glimpse of him?"
Chu'he’s courtyard housed a private bath, already filled with steaming water. Fragrant red petals floated atop the mist, adding to the dreamy ambiance.
Ninth, now fully undressed, lounged in the pool. His silver-white hair fanned out like scattered shards of moonlight dissolving into the warm water, shimmering faintly.
He lowered his head and poked at the petals floating in the water, thinking the Central Plains' bathing customs were rather peculiar.
Ruthlessly splitting a petal in two, he casually remarked, "You should scrub the front too."
A hand smacked his back. "I’m not your servant!"
Ninth flinched and turned to see Chu'he sitting on the edge of the bath, her expression dark.
Caught up in the moment, he’d forgotten his place in the household.
But Ninth was good at coaxing her. With a splash, he pulled her into his arms, nuzzling her cheek as he grinned. "Chu'he is my wife."
Steam curled around them, softening the lines of his profile, though the faint youthfulness of his jaw remained. Water droplets trailed down his neck, disappearing into the hollow of his collarbone like a shimmering pearl.
Chu'he’s anger wavered. Her voice softened as she asked, "Was it dangerous? Rescuing my father?"
Ninth shook his head. "Not at all. They were weak—couldn’t kill me."
Her fingers closed around his hand, tracing the now-faded twin puncture marks. He squirmed at the ticklish sensation, but then noticed her eyes reddening and tensed.
"Chu'he, what’s wrong?"
She glared. "You really don’t know?"
Ninth hesitated. "Was it... the egg yolks I secretly threw away yesterday?"
Chu'he leaned into his damp chest without a word.
He fidgeted. "Or... the pastries I hid for snacks this morning?"
Silence.
Ninth studied her face, then mumbled, "Fine, I admit it. The green undergarment—I kept it. It’s what you wore the first time we... I liked it."
Chu'he’s eyebrow twitched, but she held back.
That wasn’t it either?!
Ninth bit his lip. "Sorry, Chu'he. Today I... ate bugs."
He cursed inwardly—that unreliable old man had snitched.
"What?!" Chu'he shot upright like a firecracker. "You ate bugs behind my back again?!"
Ninth froze. "...You didn’t know?"
"How would I if you didn’t tell me?!"
Sweat beaded on his forehead. "Chu'he, you misheard. I ate nothing today."
She stood, flinging the washcloth at his face. "Wash yourself. Don’t come out until you’re clean!"
Without looking back, she strode away.
"Chu'he, don’t go—don’t leave me..."
Water sloshed as his voice chased after her, pleading like a lost spirit. But bound by her order, he stayed submerged, torn between following and obeying.
"I saved so many people today."
"I was just hungry. Didn’t want you thinking I’m weak."
"Chu'he, don’t be mad. I won’t do it again."
"Chu'he..."
With each call, Chu'he’s steps grew heavier. She clenched her fists, then finally turned back, expressionless.
Half-sprawled on the wooden deck, the boy’s pale frame was draped in silver hair, his crimson eyes misty and fixed on her like a beached mermaid.
Chu'he schooled her face into sternness but walked back.
Ninth’s eyes brightened. Pushing up from the floor, a single cowlick perked atop his head, swaying slightly.
She crouched, gripping a sodden lock of hair. "Don’t get smug. I just didn’t want you drowning out of stupidity."
Ninth cupped his chin, tilting his head with a smile. "Mm, I know."
When he leaned in for a kiss, her palm blocked him.
"No kisses for a month, idiot!"
The boy stiffened; his cowlick drooped pathetically.
After a pause, he plucked at her damp skirt. "Then... what about the kind without kissing?"
Chu'he scoffed. "Not interested."
Ninth leaned back. Ripples spread as he rose, water cascading from his body. Through the steam, his silhouette emerged—slender waist, the tantalizing curve below his hips barely veiled by clinging strands of hair.
He turned slightly, fingers toying with a wet lock, the view growing bolder. His red eyes lifted, glistening, lips parting.
"Really... no interest at all?"
Chu'he stared.
He blinked. "None?"
Her frown flickered. Meeting his guileless gaze, she stood abruptly.
Ninth watched, hopeful.
Then—"Splash!" Chu'he lunged into the water. "I’m here!"
