In the dead of night, Chu'he jolted awake from a dream and felt like slapping herself twice!
Once again, she had been entangled in "intimate contact" with Ninth all night, leaving her sleep-deprived. As dawn's light barely crept in, she glanced at the disheveled young man still sound asleep, then quietly slipped out of bed, put on her shoes, and gathered her clothes.
"What are you doing?"
Chu'he stiffened, turning to see the silver-haired boy sprawled across most of the bed, propping himself up on one arm.
His robe hung open, revealing a well-defined chest, his toned physique shamelessly on display for her to admire.
Freshly awakened, his drowsy crimson eyes, veiled in a misty haze, fixed unblinkingly on her.
Ever since their "argument" the previous night, he seemed to be watching her even more closely.
Chu'he refused to let guilt show. She straightened her posture, dressed with deliberate nonchalance, and answered naturally, "I'm hungry. I'm going for breakfast."
Ninth crawled out from under the covers. "I'll come too."
Chu'he blinked in surprise. "You usually sleep till midday. Why are you up so early?"
His white hair tousled, a single unruly strand bobbing, Ninth murmured darkly, "I want to see if a certain 'Song' appears around you."
Chu'he choked on her words, her conscience pricking her. She nodded stiffly. "Fine. Let’s go eat together."
She kept her appearance simple—a warm yellow ruqun adorned with tiny golden flowers in her hair. After two cups of tea, Ninth finally finished his meticulous grooming.
No matter how many times she saw it, she couldn’t help marveling: he was more fastidious than any woman.
Silver ornaments jingled, gemstones glittered, dazzling under the light.
Hand in hand, they stepped outside, where a guard awaited them. Knowing Chu'he and Ninth were esteemed guests of the estate lord, he bowed respectfully.
"Young Master, Miss, breakfast is ready. Would you prefer the main hall or your quarters?"
Before Chu'he could reply, Ninth cut in, "Are you surnamed Song?"
The guard froze. "No... I’m surnamed Li."
Ninth hummed an "Oh," then turned expectantly to Chu'he.
She cleared her throat awkwardly. "We’ll go to the main hall."
The Li-surnamed guard led the way. Two maids carrying food boxes passed by, bowing in unison.
Ninth’s eyes gleamed. "Are you surnamed Song?"
The maids exchanged puzzled glances before shaking their heads. "No, we’re not."
Another "Oh," and Ninth tugged Chu'he forward.
Soon, another figure crossed their path—a hen pecking at the grass.
Ninth crouched down. "Are you surnamed Song?"
"Bawk-bawk-bawk!" The hen flapped its wings, screeching loudly.
Bystanders gaped at the silver-haired boy interrogating poultry, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and horror.
Chu'he slapped a hand over her face, yanking Ninth up with the other. "Stop being ridiculous! That’s a chicken, not a person!"
Dragged a few steps, Ninth scowled. "Don’t you Central Plains folk have traditions of marrying chickens?"
"That’s feudal nonsense! And even if I did, it’d be a rooster, not a hen!"
Ninth’s brow arched. He turned back to Guard Li. "How many roosters do you have here? Bring them all to—"
Chu'he shrieked, "Ninth, that’s ENOUGH!"
Thus, by midmorning, rumors spread from the estate: Miaojiang tribesmen could speak to chickens. The tale raced through Canghai Province like wildfire.
Meanwhile, Sang Duo, now free of her poison, dined at an inn with Cang Yan hovering nearby. Faint red marks peeked above his collar, stark against his sun-kissed skin.
The inn’s chef hesitated before thrusting out a chicken. "Miss, my old hen’s stopped laying. Could you ask her why? This meal’s on the house!"
Sang Duo shot him a flat look. "If your chicken’s sick, find a vet. Why ask me?"
The chef scratched his head. "But don’t Miaojiang people talk to chickens?"
Her eye twitched. "Who’s slandering our reputation?!"
Outside a nearby house, a certain boy sneezed.
A little green snake lifted its head, almost concerned.
Earlier, both boy and serpent had been banished from the room.
Ninth rubbed his nose, then brightened. He knocked on the door. "Chu'he, Chu'he! I sneezed! I must’ve caught a chill—I need tending!"
Something thudded against the door. "Stop bothering me."
He sighed. "Fine."
Slumping onto the steps, Ninth propped his chin in his hands, idly kicking pebbles.
Boredom mounting, his gaze landed on the sunbathing snake.
The reptile sensed danger too late.
Ninth snatched it up, knotting its body into a bow, then a pretzel.
The snake’s eyes rolled back.
"Well, if it isn’t Young Master Ninth?"
Heart Knife sauntered over, fan fluttering, every inch the dashing jade-like gentleman.
He tilted his head. "Why are you out here alone? Where’s Miss Chu'he?"
Ninth, notorious for shadowing Chu'he, twisted the snake into a spiral. "She’s writing. Said I might get bored, so she told me to play outside."
"Play outside"?
Anyone could see he’d been kicked out!
For all his eerie aura and ruthless prowess, this Miaojiang youth was utterly helpless against one unarmed Central Plains woman.
Amused, Heart Knife sat beside him.
Ninth glanced up.
The fan stilled mid-flutter. "Young Master Ninth, we’ve survived life and death together. That makes us friends, no?"
The word "friends" drew a plastic smile. "Mhm. Friends."
Heart Knife lowered his voice. "Did you quarrel with Miss Chu'he?"
"No."
"Heh, no use lying. I’ve wandered through fields of flowers—known more women than you’ve eaten meals. In matters of the heart, I’m the expert."
Ninth smirked. "Oh?"
"Absolutely! To please a lady, you must first understand her desires. So tell me—what does Miss Chu'he like?"
Without hesitation: "She likes me."
Heart Knife choked. "That’s... not what I meant. Ah, you’ve met too few women to grasp their delicate hearts."
Ninth nodded slowly, feigning comprehension.
Heart Knife raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "Fine, who am I to refuse when I’m known for my chivalry and generosity? Young Master Ninth, today I’ll take you to broaden your horizons. The more you mingle with women, the smoother you’ll become in handling them."
Ninth tilted his head, absentmindedly tightening his grip. The little green snake in his hand stretched taut, its head drooping as if its soul had left its body.
"Wuya, what do you think Knife Third is up to with this stunt?" Su Lingxi muttered, peering through a telescope from the rooftop.
Wuya stood guard beside him and replied flatly, "Asking for death."
Su Lingxi nodded in agreement and continued scanning the area with his telescope, but the person he wanted to see never appeared.
Half an hour later, Chu'he tossed a pile of crumpled drafts aside, finally finishing the letter to her family. She needed to send it home so her father could prepare in advance.
Stretching her arms, she picked up the sealed envelope and pushed open the door. "Ninth… Huh? Where is he?"
She glanced around but saw no sign of the familiar figure.
From the rooftop, Su Lingxi called down, "Hey, are you looking for that Miaojiang fellow?"
Chu'he looked up. "Yes, do you know where Ninth went?"
Su Lingxi grinned mischievously. "Knife Third took him to the Land of Tender Bliss!"
"The Land of Tender Bliss?"
"It’s the biggest brothel in Canghaizhou! You know what a brothel is, right? A sheltered maiden like you wouldn’t, ha! But I do—it’s where men and women take off their clothes and then—mmph!"
Wuya clamped a hand over Su Lingxi’s mouth, expressionless.
Chu'he’s grip on the letter tightened until her knuckles turned white. Unable to hold back any longer, she stormed off in a fury.
"Just you wait, Ninth—you’re in for it now!"
