Perhaps the cool breeze had put her in a great mood, bringing a little comfort to her fragile heart.
Chai Xiaomi's round eyes curved into crescents, swaying like two little boats filled with stars.
She leaned in and affectionately nuzzled the tip of his nose.
"Lili, am I cute?"
"You are."
"Am I pretty?"
"You are."
"Then why are we only kissing?" A second ago, she had narrowed her eyes in satisfaction, but the next second her expression suddenly changed to one of annoyance. "When I said I wanted to be close, I didn't just mean kissing!"
Under the moonlight, those bright, sparkling eyes were like two little hooks, gently tugging at him.
Wu Li felt as if his very soul was being hooked out of his body.
His thumb tenderly brushed across the corner of her mouth, and his slightly hoarse voice carried a faint trace of indulgence. "Are you sure you want to do this here by the windowsill?"
As he asked this, his silver ornaments clattered to the floor, and his robes slid down his shoulders, revealing a glimpse of his exquisite collarbone.
"I want to do it right here."
"Look," she said, counting on her fingers one by one. "You carried me over here, right? You laid down the cushions, right? You set up the barrier, right? Now that everything is ready, you're asking me if I'm sure?"
"Wouldn't I have sat here for nothing, then? I can't sit here for nothing, so we're doing it here."
Chai Xiaomi spoke with absolute certainty, her tone carrying a hint of bossiness.
Wu Li could not help but chuckle.
To think she was so drunk and muddled, yet she still noticed he had set up a barrier. She was rarely this observant normally.
Sometimes foolish, sometimes clever—she always managed to keep him guessing.
Tonight he finally realized that when this little fool got drunk, her moods came in waves. One moment she was sweet, the next she was sour, and she became exceptionally talkative.
She was like a little kitten that would rub against your palm one minute and swat you with its paws the next, acting entirely on a whim.
And yet, he was utterly helpless against her.
"Alright, then I will grant your wish."
And his own...
His coaxing tone was incredibly soft, filled with an affection so thick it could not be dissolved.
He slipped the dress from her shoulders, grasped her delicate skin, and then slowly trailed up her neck. His slender fingers slid in from the side of her neck, cupping the back of her head and tangling into her soft hair.
With the heel of his palm gently supporting her, he pressed her against him so he could kiss her deeper.
Chai Xiaomi, drunk and dazed, was kissed into a stupor. She only knew to clumsily feel around his body by pure instinct.
Poking here, pressing there.
Wu Li's breathing grew hurried and unbearable. Desire crashed against his chest like a rising tide, beat by beat, brewing uncontrollably.
He could only force himself to endure it.
He endured until his breath grew heavy and scalding, until the corners of his eyes flushed red, until the knuckles of the hand gripping her waist turned white—yet he still could not bear to use even a fraction of his strength on her.
It wasn't until he carefully felt that pool of spring water gently swaying and rippling.
She stopped moving around, melting softly into his embrace, leaving only subtle trembles and incoherent murmurs.
Only then did he begin to let himself go, little by little.
Letting himself sink down, drown within, and melt away.
Outside the window, the moonlight was liquid and the night wind was tender.
The world, once again, became hazy and gentle.
"Lili... Lili..."
One call after another.
Intermittent, yet burning hot.
"Yes, I'm here. Right here."
He answered every single call earnestly.
Never tiring of it.
But she still seemed dissatisfied, suddenly bursting into tears without any warning.
Her fragile shoulders trembled slightly.
"After I die, if you dare to find another wife, or a next next wife... I... I won't let you off even if I become a ghost..."
Wu Li froze slightly.
Looking down at the tear-stained little face in his arms, he didn't know whether to be angry or to laugh.
He didn't know what had provoked her to come up with such bizarre thoughts at such an inappropriate time.
"Rest assured, if you die, I will enter the coffin and be buried in the earth with you, sleeping eternally underground by your side."
He had thought about it long ago.
His immortal body guarding a pile of dry bones—that would be the rest of his life.
If she was willing to become a ghost to come find him, that would be even better.
Chai Xiaomi was crying her heart out, but upon hearing Wu Li's answer, she stared blankly.
And then seemed... even more heartbroken.
If that happened, how was he supposed to endure those lonely, endless years all by himself?
She tried hard to hold back her tears and looked at him seriously. "Who wants to be buried with you..."
"I grant you permission, after I die, you can forget me. It's best if you forget me completely."
"When the time comes, you can find another one. Finding five, six, seven, or eight more is fine too."
After saying this, however, her nose couldn't help but sting.
This time, Wu Li was truly angered into laughing. "Chai Xiaomi, if you have the guts, try saying one more word."
Hearing him call out "Chai Xiaomi," she was completely stunned.
There wasn't a single curse word, but why did it feel worse than being scolded?
It seemed like it had been a very long time since Wu Li had spoken to her with such a gritted, freezing cold tone.
Chai Xiaomi opened her mouth: "?"
She wanted to talk back, but found that she suddenly couldn't speak.
How did she get muted?
She drunkenly began to recall. Wasn't that Gu worm that makes people mute already eaten by Hongjiao?
How did it appear again?
But she had no time to look into it.
No time to think clearly, no time to ask, and not even time to take a breath.
She was already completely submerged by him.
Wu Li seemed to be desperately venting something.
She cried harder than ever before, but could only slightly part her lips, unable to make a single sound.
She just let him be.
He dragged her down, then held her up.
Like a drowning person, the only thing she could grab onto was him. Yet he wouldn't let her hold on tight, forcing her to soften again and again, to climb up again and again.
The wind outside the window was cool, but their bodies were burning.
She couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears, only knowing that he was exceptionally unreasonable tonight, deliberately making her cry silently, deliberately making her melt into a warm spring.
She finally understood just how bad this damned villain could be when he decided to be bad.
A night passed.
In the Ouyang mansion, the young master woke up, and the master collapsed.
A servant in charge of laundry walked through the corridor carrying a copper basin. A blood-stained garment was soaking in the basin. She glanced down at it but didn't dare to look closely, her pace quickening a bit compared to usual.
This garment would not be washed. Master Ouyang had always been generous and particular about his clothing. Dirty clothes were never washed; they were thrown away and replaced with new ones. It wasn't out of consideration for the servants, but rather a habit of extravagance.
As for how the clothes got dirty, no one dared to ask.
Ouyang Huai ruled his subordinates strictly, and everyone in the mansion kept their mouths shut about what happened last night.
In truth, the servants really didn't know. Last night, upon receiving an order, everyone had hidden in their own rooms with doors and windows tightly shut. What exactly happened outside—whether it was ghosts, demons, or something else—no one knew.
Madam Ouyang had been suffering from bouts of madness more frequently lately. Seeing the master covered in wounds, she neither cried nor made a fuss, but merely laughed maniacally.
Ouyang Rui sent his mother to the side courtyard to rest, and then returned to the room.
He stood by the bed, looking at Ouyang Huai, who was covered in bandages on the bed, his eyes full of worry.
He retained no memory of the time he spent as a spirit.
Therefore, he had no choice but to ask the white cat, "Alchemist Ji, what exactly happened to cause all these knife wounds on my father?"
The white cat lay belly-up, weakly nestled in a rocking chair, its tail drooping over the edge without the slightest twitch.
Hearing the question, it lazily waved a paw. "Don't worry about what happened. It is a miracle your father is even still breathing. He is going to die sooner or later anyway, so just cherish the time you have left to look at him."
These words stunned not only Jiang Zhiyu but also Song Yueyao, who was standing nearby.
Alchemist Ji's reputation had spread far and wide across the Central Plains not just because of his demon-slaying and eagerness to help others, but even more so because of his gentle demeanor toward the common people, which was always as comforting as a warm spring breeze.
Yet now, he looked half-dead, with dejection and disappointment written all over him, as if every ounce of his vitality had been drained away overnight.
When Song Yueyao arrived last night, the white cat had already been in this state.
According to Jiang Zhiyu, he had just rescued his master from a magma fissure at the time. Shortly after, the fissure had miraculously sealed itself shut.
