The waiter led two guests up to the second floor, chattering enthusiastically about the local delicacies along the way.
Just then, a door nearby opened, and a young man with a sword strapped to his side stepped out leisurely. His sharp brows and bright eyes gave him a striking, heroic aura. Dressed in flowing blue robes, he carried himself with an air of effortless grace.
As they passed each other, the young man’s sword suddenly trembled violently, as if reacting to something. He pressed a hand against it and lifted his gaze.
Standing there was a Miao youth in crimson robes, calmly nibbling on a candied hawthorn stick, his expression indifferent. His eyes flickered slightly, meeting the other’s probing stare without flinching.
The young man tightened his grip on the sword.
"Ninth, what do you want for dinner?"
Chu'he tiptoed, her lively face popping into Ninth’s line of sight, effectively cutting off the clash of their gazes—one like water, the other like fire.
Ninth silently stared at her.
Chu'he’s tiptoed stance grew unsteady, her legs trembling, but the smile on her face only brightened. "The waiter recommended their signature dish—white-cut chicken. How about that?"
Ninth took a bite of the last candied hawthorn berry, mumbling vaguely, "Whatever."
"Then white-cut chicken it is, along with a three-delicacy meatball soup and a side dish."
The waiter quickly noted the order.
The restless sword gradually stilled. The young man watched the group walk away before releasing his grip on the hilt and descending the stairs.
After showing the guests to their room, the waiter said, "Please wait a moment. Your meal will be brought up shortly."
Before leaving, he hesitated, glancing at Chu'he before adding, "The city hasn’t been very peaceful lately. It’s best if you two don’t go out after dark."
Chu'he asked, "Has something bad happened in the city?"
The waiter replied, "There have been frequent disappearances of young women recently. People are terrified. The authorities still haven’t caught the culprit, and everyone’s saying… saying it can’t be the work of a human."
He shuddered, unwilling to elaborate further, and excused himself in a hurry.
Once the door closed, Ninth sat down on a chair, meticulously nibbling on his last candied hawthorn berry as if savoring it with great care.
Chu'he, reflecting on the waiter’s words, suddenly realized what had felt off earlier. Though the streets had been crowded, there were no young women in sight. No wonder her presence had drawn so many stares.
She tried recalling the plot.
At this point in the story, the male lead was still amnesiac, living a simple rural life with the female lead. The city of Xiaocheng hadn’t even been mentioned.
Out of the corner of her eye, Chu'he caught sight of Ninth still licking the skewer. Unable to take it anymore, she snatched the stick and slammed it onto the table. "Enough! Dinner’s coming soon. Stop that!"
Ninth glanced at the skewer, then at her expression. Slowly dragging his tongue across his lips, he drawled, "Oh."
Chu'he huffed and sat down, ignoring him as she pulled out their money to calculate expenses.
"Getting back to Yangcheng will take about a month. We’ll need money for lodging, food, clothes…"
Ninth rested his chin on his hands, his jewel-like eyes fixed listlessly on Chu'he’s counting fingers. His pale face was the picture of boredom.
Under the table, Chu'he’s foot was suddenly nudged.
She looked up briefly before adding another line to the budget: "And snacks."
Moments later, her foot was nudged again.
This time, she ignored it, simply scooting her chair away.
A few breaths later, the offending foot struck once more.
A vein throbbed on Chu'he’s forehead as she slammed the table and stood. "Ninth, that’s enough!"
Ninth blinked slowly, as if processing the outburst.
After a long pause, his lashes fluttered, and a small green snake slithered out from somewhere, coiling around his arm.
He stroked the snake’s head, murmuring, "Hungry? Hmm… you want meat."
Though the snake couldn’t speak, he carried on the conversation as if it could.
"No, you can’t eat Chu'he."
"She’s not me."
"Can’t put her back together."
A chill ran down Chu'he’s spine. She quickly interjected, "Ninth, I’ll buy you two candied hawthorn sticks tomorrow!"
Ninth shot her a sidelong glance. "What? Too far. Can’t hear you."
Taking the hint, Chu'he dragged her chair back next to his. With an ingratiating smile, she clung to his arm, her dark eyes sparkling.
"Ninth, I said I’ll buy you two candied hawthorn sticks tomorrow!"
Ninth lifted his chin, sitting primly. "Fine. If you insist, I suppose I can’t refuse."
Chu'he cursed inwardly: What a show-off.
The waiter soon arrived with their meal—a feast for the senses.
After days of bland food, Chu'he was tempted to wolf it down, but she restrained herself for the sake of decorum, chewing slowly.
Yet the crisp sound of bones being gnawed beside her was impossible to ignore.
She turned sharply. "Ninth."
The boy had a half-chewed bone clamped between his teeth. When he glanced down at her, his gaze was utterly innocent.
For a fleeting moment, Chu'he imagined him as a big white-furred dog.
After all, she was the one who’d dragged him out of Miao territory. And his near-fatal ordeal had been partly her fault.
She owed him.
She tried prying the bone from his mouth with her chopsticks.
He held on stubbornly.
Chu'he frowned. "Only dogs gnaw on bones. Stop it."
Ninth’s eyes shifted, then he released it.
With a look of disgust, she tossed the bone aside and plucked a boneless piece of white-cut chicken into his bowl. "Eat properly. You need to put on some weight."
"Men in the Central Plains who are too thin aren’t popular."
"Besides, more meat means fewer illnesses. We’ll save on medical costs."
"Not that we have enough money anyway. We’ll need to find ways to earn more."
She prattled on, mechanically depositing boneless meat into his bowl between sentences. Most of the meatballs from the soup ended up in his portion.
By the time she trailed off, she was genuinely deep in thought about their next steps.
Propping her chin on one hand, she absently continued filling his bowl with the other, her muttering never ceasing.
Ninth gazed down at the top of her dark head. The candlelight softened the cold, vivid hues of his irises, lending them a warm, flickering glow—bright and mesmerizing.
As the night breeze outside the window teased a strand of the girl’s dark hair, sending it fluttering toward his fingertips, his slender, delicate fingers moved like a cold, sinuous serpent. They traced upward along that loose strand, slowly coiling around the silken black tresses, caressing them with deliberate tenderness.
"So after we finish this good meal, we’ll have to tighten our belts!"
After a long ramble, Chu'he finally lifted her face to deliver her conclusion, only to meet his crimson eyes—glittering with scattered starlight—unexpectedly. Her breath hitched, pausing for half a beat.
The young man’s fingers remained entwined in her hair, pale against dark, the contrast blurring into indistinct harmony.
"Chu'he." His strikingly beautiful face curved into a radiant smile, bewitching as a seductive specter, yet his gaze held the innocent purity of a child.
He said, "I want to be intimate with you as husband and wife. Will you allow it?"
