The black centipede anxiously scurried in circles before finally mustering the courage to dart toward Chu'he. It left behind a segment of its tail, then swiftly climbed up the wall and vanished into the night.
Chu'he looked down at the trembling tail on the ground, as if it were silently lamenting its own misfortune and helplessness. If not for that lunatic’s demand that they find a way to please their mistress, they wouldn’t have to torment themselves like this.
Chu'he turned to the servant and said, "Take this to the medicine storage. It might be useful later."
The servant hesitated, then mustered his courage, wrapping the still-twitching tail in a cloth with great care.
Chu'he glanced back and added, "This maid is new, right? As per the usual practice, give her extra allowance for the first three months so she can buy some tonics to recover."
The maid’s face was deathly pale, her body weak, her eyes unfocused—clearly, her mind had already fled far away. She was beginning to understand why people said working as a servant in the Bai household paid better. Given these circumstances, anyone without strong nerves wouldn’t last long.
Once inside the room, the servants piled bundles of various sizes onto the table before immediately scattering in a frantic rush, as if fleeing for their lives.
Before long, the room fell into complete silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of candlelight—proof that time and air still moved.
Then, a night breeze swept in, extinguishing all the candles in an instant. The doors and windows slammed shut as if seized by an eerie wind, plunging the room into pitch-black stillness.
Outside, the shadows of trees swayed like restless ghosts, their branches clawing at the windows like beasts, mingling with the howling wind to create an atmosphere of bone-chilling terror.
Faintly, a slender silhouette appeared on the window paper—elongated and frail, with disheveled waist-length hair blending into the monstrous tree shadows. It was impossible to tell whether the figure lurked outside or within, drifting weightlessly, utterly unlike a living being.
"Give… me… back… my life…"
The shadow stretched out its hands, fingers elongating into beastly claws. Judging by the sharp, dagger-like shadows of its nails, they could easily rend flesh if they struck their prey.
Chu'he crossed her arms, watching the window with cold detachment, showing no reaction.
The "ghostly figure" seemed to draw closer, its voice growing more mournful, testing the limits of ordinary human nerves.
"I died so miserably…"
Chu'he sighed, then suddenly clutched her head and let out a scream. Feigning terror, she dashed into the inner chamber, kicked off her shoes, and threw herself onto the bed.
"A ghost! I’m so scared! Waaah—someone save me!"
Her performance was far from convincing—her tone flat, her delivery wooden—but for dealing with a certain naive fool, this level of acting was more than enough.
"Keh keh keh—"
The "ghost" cackled. "All faithless hearts must die. Who could possibly protect you now?"
"No! My husband is the most powerful man in the world!" Chu'he buried her face in the quilt, her body trembling with feigned fear, her voice quivering pitifully. "Husband, where are you? Come save me!"
"Ah'he, your husband is here!"
Suddenly, someone pressed down on her from behind, nearly knocking the breath out of her. She turned her face, trying to push away the head nuzzling against her cheek.
"Get off! Did you even take off your shoes?"
The person on top of her shifted, kicking his shoes onto the floor. Then, his familiar scent enveloped her completely—an overwhelming, clingy sense of security that made it hard to breathe.
"Ah'he, don’t be afraid. I’m here."
Strands of white hair slipped from his shoulders, tickling her face. Resigned, she stopped struggling and lay still. Past experience had taught her that the more she resisted, the tighter he would hold her—like his pet python, coiling ever tighter around struggling prey until bones snapped and breath was crushed away.
His earring brushed against her cheek, cold to the touch.
Chu'he pushed at his shoulder. "I’m uncomfortable."
So he sat up, pulling her with him. They remained close, and she reached out without hesitation, grabbing two locks of his hair.
"Ow!" he protested.
"Good! Maybe now you’ll learn!" Chu'he fumed. "Forcing Xiao Qing and the others to bring me ‘gifts’ is one thing, but then you go and pull this ghost act just to scare me?"
Ninth sat cross-legged, posture deceptively innocent. "They were clearly trying to make you happy. How is that ‘scaring’ you?"
Chu'he wasn’t in the mood for his nonsense. "And why did you test your poison on Xiaobao? I spent ages taking him out to cheer him up!"
Ninth shrugged. "I warned him not to touch my toxins. He insisted. If he can’t handle it, that’s his fault. A single mark on his face is me being merciful."
Chu'he glared. "I told you to keep your poisons where he couldn’t reach them!"
"He’s at that age where even dogs avoid him—climbing everywhere like a little monkey. Is there anything I hide that he can’t dig out?"
Chu'he’s expression remained blank.
Ninth’s scalp prickled under her stare. Clearing his throat, he muttered awkwardly, "Fine. Next time, I won’t tease him."
"Teasing him is fine," Chu'he said seriously.
Ninth’s eyes lit up.
"Just don’t overdo it."
His ruby-like eyes sparkled, a delighted smile spreading across his lips as he eagerly pounced on her again.
Chu'he fell back onto the bed, weighed down by his familiar presence. Resigned, she stopped resisting, idly twirling a strand of his silky white hair around her fingers—a texture she’d always loved.
Ninth brushed his nose against hers, his beautiful eyes reflecting only her. "Ah'he, you were out for so long… Did you bring me anything?"
"There’s a pile of things on the table. Half of them are yours."
"More than Xiaobao’s?"
She smiled. "Yes, more than Xiaobao’s."
Ninth’s gaze gleamed. "Ah'he."
"What?"
"Can I kiss you?"
She turned her face away. "No."
"Then can you kiss me?"
"No."
He nuzzled her cheek. "Really not?"
The ticklish sensation made her push at his shoulder, but the moment she touched him, he gasped dramatically. The silver-adorned red robe slipped off his shoulders in a jingle, revealing a breathtaking expanse of skin.
Chu'he: "..."
The robe hung loosely at his waist, exposing flawless shoulders and a smooth, sculpted back. His waist-length white hair cascaded like moonlight, a few strands clinging to his neck and collarbone, accentuating his snow-pale complexion.
And those striking crimson eyes—icy allure and fiery charm collided, every glance brimming with irresistible magnetism.
He tilted his head slightly, his silver hair swaying gently, his strikingly beautiful face wearing an expression of innocent confusion. "Chu'he, is it really not good?"
Chu'he: "...Where did you learn this brothel-style behavior?"
Ninth replied proudly, "I've learned quite a few characters from Xiaobao. Now I can almost read through the Three Character Classic."
Chu'he was momentarily at a loss for words.
Ninth tugged his hem a little lower, his slender waistline even more tantalizing. He blinked. "Chu'he?"
Chu'he held back, then held back some more—but in the end, he couldn’t resist. He flipped Ninth onto his back and pinned him down.
"Even if you beg me to stop tonight, I won’t."
Outside, the night was silent.
Chu Xiaobao pressed his ear against the door, listening to the muffled sounds of his father’s cries—"It hurts," "No more," "I can’t take it"—and grinned from ear to ear, his expression triumphant.
Satisfied, he took a big bite of his candied hawthorn stick, crunching loudly between his teeth.
"Serves you right, you old rascal, for bullying me on purpose!"
"If you dare mess with me again..."
"I’ll just let Mom keep teaching you a lesson!"
From a distance, Chu Sheng’s voice called out, "Xiaobao, come have some sweet soup!"
Chu Xiaobao answered cheerfully, "Coming, Grandpa!"
With quick, light steps, he scampered away.
The quiet night, as always, was once again filled with lively mischief.
