With his entire face buried deep in the crook of his arm, Wen Xu exposed only two tips of his ears that were burning bright red. He hadn’t been this shy even when Yu Qinghan had forcibly kissed and nuzzled him earlier.
Upon careful reflection, perhaps it was because he had been far too terrified at the time, his mind preoccupied entirely with sheer panic, leaving no room whatsoever for shyness.
Yet just now…
The sunlight had been just right, the breeze mild, and the atmosphere exceptionally pleasant. Furthermore, Yu Qinghan had suddenly spoken right beside his ear; his voice, which was already remarkably pleasing to begin with, had shed its glacial chill to become saturated with gentleness, blooming beside him like a low-frequency bass boost.
Wen Xu could finally comprehend what people meant by “a voice that can make your ears pregnant.” Yu Qinghan’s voice was genuinely peerless!
Not only did his ears tingle, but his heart felt delightfully buzzed and fuzzy, too.
The more Wen Xu thought about it, the more his face flushed and his heart raced. No, no, I cannot keep thinking like this!
Come to think of it, back when he was in school, he had occasionally encountered upperclassmen with pleasant voices, but aside from thinking they sounded nice, he had never harbored any other thoughts, let alone felt shy or experienced a racing heartbeat.
It was entirely because Yu Qinghan was simply too handsome, possessed such a stellar physique, and had a voice that was drop-dead gorgeous—how was anyone supposed to withstand this?!
He was an absolute heartthrob for both men and women! No, no, I have to keep myself under control and stop letting my imagination run wild, or I’m going to end up bending sooner or later!
Unable to resist, Wen Xu lifted his head slightly, intending to steal a quiet glance at Yu Qinghan, only to find himself locking eyes directly with a pair of deep, dark pupils.
Narrow, sharp, carrying a faint chill and radiating sheer, suffocating oppression.
Feeling inexplicably as though he had been caught red-handed peeking at someone, Wen Xu hurriedly lowered his head, pulling his neck inward like a frightened ostrich.
The cold, rigid corners of Yu Qinghan’s lips curled upward of their own accord, his dark eyes instantly suffused with an elusive, lingering amusement.
The little fellow was truly adorable. It seemed that keeping him here had been entirely the correct choice.
At present, Yu Qinghan finally understood what it felt like to keep a pet—one that could be casually teased at whim.
Interesting, immensely interesting.
Wen Xu was simply exhausted; before long, he drifted off to sleep, his head tilting to one side to reveal half of his face, where faint red creases had been pressed into his fair cheek.
Realizing that sleeping in such a position couldn’t possibly be comfortable for his little disciple, Yu Qinghan didn’t hesitate for a second before walking over, bending down, and sweeping the boy up into his arms.
Once he lifted him, however, he found himself pondering: Where should I put him to sleep?
The entirety of Feiyu Palace possessed only one bed, one daybed, and one recliner.
A recliner wasn’t as comfortable to sleep on as a daybed, and a daybed wasn’t as comfortable as a proper bed.
Lowering his head to gaze at the soundly sleeping little disciple in his arms, Yu Qinghan thought it over for a moment before turning and carrying him straight into the northern bedchamber.
Feiyu Palace was divided into four distinct sections: the southern chamber served as the entrance hall, typically used for holding discussions; the eastern chamber functioned essentially as a study and leisure area; the northern chamber was Yu Qinghan’s personal resting quarters, featuring a back door that opened up to an area suitable for a serpent to inhabit; and the western chamber remained temporarily vacant.
Yu Qinghan laid Wen Xu down upon the sole bed located in the northern chamber. The petite body sank into the expansive, oversized mattress, making Wen Xu appear all the more diminutive.
Bending over once more, Yu Qinghan removed Wen Xu’s shoes, straightened his limbs, and pulled a thin quilt over him.
When had the dignified Sect Master of the Wuji Sect ever waited upon someone like this, let alone allowed anyone else to sleep in his own bed?
Even Yu Qinghan himself couldn’t quite explain why he had acted this way. He merely recalled how the little fellow had turned pale as a sheet and nearly passed out from fright the previous day, only to be bitten on the neck by him and poisoned—failing to faint from terror, but getting knocked out by the venom instead.
To describe it in a single word: utterly wretched. And so, his traditionally cold and unyielding heart had abruptly grown soft.
Consider it a minor form of compensation for his little disciple. Besides, the little fellow had already laid upon this bed once before, so one more time wouldn’t hurt.
The brilliant afternoon sunlight illuminated the interior of the hall brightly. Frowning slightly at the glare, Yu Qinghan gave a casual sweep of his sleeve, causing every single gossamer curtain and hanging gauze in the room to instantly drop shut, while even the night-pearls embedded in the ceiling dimmed their radiance.
The bedchamber grew dim, quiet, and utterly silent—so still that the dropping of a pin could likely be heard.
Only then did Yu Qinghan walk out with a satisfied expression.
Wen Xu enjoyed an exceptionally comfortable sleep, completely free of nightmares and filled instead with quite a few pleasant dreams.
What caught him completely off guard, however, was waking up to find that pitch-black darkness had already fallen. Utter blackness surrounded him, broken only by the faint outlines of drifting gauze curtains.
“Where… is this?”
Rubbing his eyes, Wen Xu sat up in a daze, registering the softness beneath his backside. This was certainly not the hard wooden bench he had been sitting on earlier it felt suspiciously like… a bed?
At that exact moment, lamps flared brightly all at once, and the surrounding gauze curtains began to retract automatically piece by piece.
The sudden influx of light caused Wen Xu to instinctively squeeze his eyes shut, needing a moment to adjust before he could finally pry them open again.
The first thing that met his vision was a magnified human face.
“Ah!”
Startled into a shriek, Wen Xu threw his upper body backward. Just as the back of his head was about to crack against the wooden headboard, Yu Qinghan swiftly extended a hand to cradle and support his head.
“Is Master truly that terrifying?”
“N-No, not terrifying.” Shaking his head, Wen Xu blinked rather awkwardly as he gazed up at Yu Qinghan’s handsome, close-range visage, muttering softly, “It’s just that Shizun appeared so suddenly and was standing so close, which gave this disciple quite a fright.”
The fright had genuinely nearly caused his heart to stop beating. Anyone would be startled out of their wits by a giant, magnified face suddenly materializing out of nowhere, especially when it wasn’t there a second ago and was right in your face the next.
It felt straight out of a horror movie!
Once Wen Xu straightened his posture, Yu Qinghan withdrew his hand, inwardly marveling to himself: The back of the little disciple’s head is truly round, and his hair is remarkably soft.
Surveying the room, Wen Xu experienced a creeping sense of familiarity regarding the decor. Upon closer inspection, wasn’t this Yu Qinghan’s bedchamber?!
To be precise, it should be called his sleeping quarters. Everything here gleamed with gold; the gauze drapes, hanging beads, and curtains were interwoven shades of gold and light-gold, and even the bed he had been resting upon—from the sheets to the blankets and canopy—was entirely golden, styled much like an emperor’s inner palace.
Crucially, this shade of gold was actually quite gorgeous, completely devoid of vulgarity and instead exuding a sense of profound luxury and grandeur.
Wait a minute…
A sudden realization struck Wen Xu, causing his eyes to widen as he stared fixedly at Yu Qinghan. “Shizun, the bed I was sleeping on just now… surely isn’t yours, right?”
Yu Qinghan arched an eyebrow, offering a breezy, rhetorical retort: “Do you suppose there are any other beds in Feiyu Palace?”
Wen Xu gave a stiff shake of his head.
“Therefore, disciple, you must take responsibility for Master.”
“…What?” Convinced he must have misheard, Wen Xu stared with wide, disbelieving eyes. “What did Shizun just say?”
Had he somehow failed to wake up completely from his dream?
“You slept in Master’s bed, which is equivalent to sleeping with Master himself. Should you not take responsibility?” Yu Qinghan’s expression remained entirely natural, as though things were naturally supposed to be this way.
Wen Xu: “…”
Utterly dumbfounded, Wen Xu wondered if the person before him really was Yu Qinghan. Could he have somehow been swapped out?
Or perhaps, much like himself, the man had been transmigrated into by a soul from another world? Otherwise, how could he suddenly transform into an entirely different person, acting rather shameless and somewhat… roguish?
Though his face remained cold as ice and his gaze possessed that same unapproachable detachment, the words leaving his lips were shockingly seductive.
Biting his lower lip, Wen Xu’s long, delicate eyelashes fluttered twice. His face, still flushed pink from sleep, and his round, almond-shaped eyes radiated sheer terror.
“Shizun, p-please stop joking around. How can sleeping in a bed and sleeping with a person possibly be placed in the same category?!”