Snap!
The book slammed shut.
The room now contained not one, but effectively two boiled shrimp.
Neither Sang Nian nor Xie Chenzhou uttered a word.
The surrounding silence was so heavy you could hear a pin drop.
After a long, agonizing stretch—just as Sang Nian felt ready to claw out a fantasy castle with her toes out of sheer mortification—Xie Chenzhou slowly broke the silence.
“You want me to be your cultivation vessel.”
It was a statement, not a question. There wasn’t a single question mark in sight.
A cultivation vessel—
The cultivation world’s equivalent of an unspeakable, bedroom-art yang-draining partner.
Primarily referring to the one being drained.
Goodness gracious, sweet heavens!
What kind of horrifying misunderstanding was this?!
Madly waving her hands, Sang Nian sputtered, “I didn’t! I’m not! Don’t talk nonsense!”
Xie Chenzhou pointed out, “Your book says so.”
Sang Nian argued, “This book isn’t even mine! It’s…”
It’s a gift from my sister-sabotaging brother.
And what was it sent for? Naturally, to treat Xie Chenzhou as a vessel and drain him dry.
Drain him right down to the bone.
Sang Nian realized with a sinking heart that this explanation wouldn’t exactly do her any favors.
With shameless thick-skinned resilience, she chose to pretend nothing had happened and said with righteous indignation, “This isn’t a proper book at all. You are forbidden to read it ever again!”
With that, she swiftly shoved the volume into her storage pouch and smoothly steered the conversation elsewhere:
“Let’s talk business. I want you to…”
“I won’t be your vessel.”
Xie Chenzhou’s tone was rigid, laced with a fierce, absolute defiance. “You can just kill me right now.”
Gritting her teeth, Sang Nian hissed, “I already told you, I didn’t mean anything like that!”
The corners of Xie Chenzhou’s mouth twitched into a cold smirk. “Then what kind of business do you want to discuss with me?”
Trying her absolute best to sound normal, Sang Nian proposed, “Starting today, pack up and move into my Hall of String Melodies.”
Xie Chenzhou: “Ha.”
“…”
My fist.
My fist is itching.
Sang Nian rolled up her sleeves, then unrolled them, repeating the motion a few times before finally managing a slightly ferocious smile.
“What I mean is, we’re already married, yet you’re still living in a dump like this. If word of this gets out, it will ruin my reputation.”
Giving him no room for refusal, she turned on her heel to leave, her tone unyielding:
“If you don’t agree, I’ll have people tear this firewood shed to the ground.”
Xie Chenzhou lowered his gaze in silence.
Until her footsteps faded away completely, he lifted his eyelids, his gaze drifting toward the table.
The plate of candied fruit, specially brought out to humiliate him, sat quietly there, its colors bright and glossy.
Reputation?
What kind of reputation did Sang Yunling even have left?
This excuse was laughably pathetic.
She clearly had ulterior motives.
Plucking a frost-coated green plum, Xie Chenzhou hesitated before taking a bite.
The sweetness of the sugar and the crisp fragrance of the plum slowly melted across his tongue. Only then did he realize that even his tastebuds had been steeped in bitterness.
The lingering, stubborn scent of medicinal herbs was easily chased away, leaving behind only an unfamiliar, soft sweetness.
Xie Chenzhou froze slightly.
“What else could I possibly be plotting? His body, of course.”
Back inside the Hall of String Melodies, Sang Nian was telling Liuli precisely that.
The City Lord had sent over a batch of supplies for pet birds, and Liuli was currently burying its beak into a pile of top-tier millet, pausing only to ask between mouthfuls:
“You’re going to sleep with him?”
“Not quite,” Sang Nian replied. “Isn’t this for the sake of the mission? Besides, what if I suddenly have another health flare-up? Having him close by makes me feel a bit safer.”
“What a pain,” Liuli critiqued.
Flapping its wings, it plucked a feather from its chest and used it as a toothpick: “Clearly, sleeping with him would solve both problems at once, yet you insist on making things so complicated.”
“What does a mutant flying creature like you know about anything?” Sang Nian shoved its head straight down into the bowl. “Just eat your food.”
Chun’er lifted the bead curtain and stepped into the room. Catching sight of Sang Nian’s expression, she wore an air of absolute, knowing comprehension—
“My lady, did the young master make you angry again?”
Chun’er offered a gleeful suggestion, “How about we just listen to the City Lord and give him another beating?”
Truly a product of growing up right alongside the original host.
Sang Nian massaged her temples.
Xie Chenzhou wasn’t even here; when would she have had the chance to let him offend her?
Reaching out, she flicked Chun’er squarely on the forehead. Chun’er let out an “Ouch!” and clutched her head, looking at Sang Nian with tear-filled eyes.
Sang Nian instructed, “From now on, none of you are allowed to bully Xie Chenzhou.”
Chun’er blinked. “Huh? Why?”
Searching her mind, Sang Nian came up with a somewhat passable excuse:
“He’s my husband now. If you all treat him like this, what will other people think of your young mistress?”
Chun’er pouted. “Fine, I get it.”
“Also, take a few people and clear out the room right next to mine,” Sang Nian ordered. “Xie Chenzhou will be living there from now on.”
Chun’er nearly jumped out of her skin. “Why?! That’s my room!”
Sang Nian: “…”
Right, she forgot. The adjoining room was where Chun’er slept.
“Then just find any empty room in the Hall of String Melodies that’s close to the master bedroom,” she emphasized. “Decorate it just like mine. Make sure all the necessary furniture is there—don’t just toss a tattered straw mat on the floor and call it a bed.”
Chun’er wore the expression of someone desperately wanting to roll her eyes, but lacking the courage, forcing herself to swallow it down instead.
“Ugh, that Xie Chenzhou is such a seductieve fox!” she ground her teeth in resentment. “He’s got you so completely wrapped around his finger that you’ve lost all your senses.”
Before she could finish, she caught yet another flick to the forehead, leaving her looking utterly wronged.
Sang Nian raised the inflection of her voice. “Still standing there? Go on.”
Chun’er left with a drooping lower lip.
The servants of the City Lord’s estate worked with remarkable efficiency. That very evening, Xie Chenzhou found himself standing right outside the Hall of String Melodies.
Since his entire worldly possession amounted to a few old sets of clothes, the move didn’t take much effort at all.
Chun’er, who had led the way, spent the entire journey muttering complaints under her breath.
Finally, halting her steps, she turned around to issue a warning:
“A lowly runaway slave like you getting to where you are today is entirely thanks to our young mistress.”
“The mistress fancies you, so you had best stay by her side and behave yourself. Don’t go harboring any other wild ideas. If you dare show disrespect to her again—”
“You’ll die a miserable death.”
Stepping past her, Xie Chenzhou pushed open the vermilion wooden door, standing with his back to her right on the boundary between darkness and lamplight.
“I am not a runaway slave.”
Chun’er couldn’t care less.
“Whether you are or aren’t, you’re nothing more than a plaything anyway.”
With that, refusing to spare another second, she turned on her heel and stormed off.
Creak—
The door closed shut.
Darkness crept in like a rising tide, plunging the room into absolute silence.
Standing motionless for who knows how long, Xie Chenzhou finally forced his stiff legs to move and lit a lamp.
The soft glow of the flame chased away the encroaching dark.
Sitting down by the table, he surveyed his surroundings, his dark eyes unfathomable.
The furnishings and layout of this room were practically identical to Sang Nian’s own, every single detail dripping with unadulterated luxury.
This was nothing more than a cage she had custom-built for him.
He was just a caged bird in her eyes.
【Ding~ Xie Chenzhou’s favorability -10, current favorability -123,070】
“Pfft—!”
Hearing the system prompt, Sang Nian spat out every last drop of tea she had just taken into her mouth.
With a head full of question marks, she demanded, “What on earth was that?”
Liuli was lounging flat on its back on the bed, cracking sunflower seeds. Hearing her, it lazily waved a tiny paw in casual dismissal:
“Xie Chenzhou’s favorability toward you just dropped.”
“?”
Sang Nian sputtered, “Wait, what did I even do? Why did it suddenly drop by ten points?”
Pinching its chin in faux contemplation for two seconds, Liuli had a sudden flash of enlightenment:
“I know why.”
Sang Nian: “Why?”
Under her tense, expectant gaze, it slowly spoke:
“Xie Chenzhou must have…”
“Eaten too many sunflower seeds and grown a blister on his tongue.”
Sang Nian: “.”
Snatching the seeds right out of its claws, Sang Nian snapped, “I think your brain has grown a blister. If you ever dare eat food on my bed again, I’ll pluck every last feather off your body.”
Liuli: QAQ