The Midnight Mischief
At night, the Yanyun Pavilion.
Water splashed rhythmically in the hot spring. Qingmo adored the feeling of being enveloped by warmth, and his body gradually relaxed.
As the hot water lapped against his chest, a wet tail suddenly slapped against his arm.
Rice Cake floated on the surface of the water, trying his absolute best to maintain his balance with all four limbs to avoid sinking to the bottom. The normally mature and poised Demon Lord was, for the first time, wearing an expression of utter revulsion, his tone hurried. “I am not taking a bath! Pull me up right now!”
“How can you not take a bath?” Qingmo, a devoted fan of hot springs, refused to compromise. He severely criticized this unclean cat and deliberately scooped up a handful of water to splash over him. “Look at that, I told you you were solid all the way through. You got soaked and you didn’t look a single ounce thinner.”
Hating water was a cat’s innate nature, and ever since he was a kitten, Rice Cake would bolt all over the courtyard whenever it was time for a bath.
Unable to climb ashore with his current abilities, he could only retract his claws, clamp tightly onto Qingmo’s arm without letting go, and puff out his cheeks in sullen anger.
Cats were truly bullied for being gentle.
“Alright, alright, you stingy cat.” Seeing that he genuinely seemed upset, Qingmo chuckled, scratched him under the chin, and quickly finished his own bath before pulling the cat ashore to dry him off.
Wrapped in a towel and rubbed down, Suyu couldn’t get his fur back to a dry state in time, so he simply sprawled there helplessly and began licking his own fur.
Even with a stiff neck, he still couldn’t reach the spots.
Walking over barefoot and draped in an outer robe, Qingmo caught sight of the fluffy little rice cake turning his long fur into a tangled mess.
Who knew how long it had been since he last groomed himself? His movements were clumsy and unpracticed, and given the extremely long fur typical of this feline variety, managing it without human assistance was virtually impossible.
Leaving his robe untied with his chest exposed, Qingmo walked over to help, laughing lightly. “Look how clumsy you are, you do not even know how to lick your fur. Alright, I will brush you once we get back to the room.”
Wearing a grievance-filled expression and refusing to acknowledge him, Suyu turned his head away, only for the other man to deliberately press a warm embrace right into his field of view.
Qingmo’s skin was fair and clear, and the scars left over from his past had long been healed and faded thanks to his own care over the years. The only exception was the hideous, torn scar across his chest that stretched all the way around to his back.
Back then, he had used these very hands, which were once accustomed to taking lives, to tear open his own chest and rip out his still-beating heart.
It must have hurt terribly, Suyu thought.
No matter how many times things were replayed, this fellow still could not break the habit of hurting himself.
Soft paw pads suddenly pressed against his skin, and following Suyu’s gaze downward, Qingmo noticed the old scars as well.
He curled the corners of his lips in self-deprecating amusement. “That is how the Ghost Fiend came to be. No matter how good the scar-removal ointment is, it can never wash them away.”
The atmosphere felt overly heavy. Regretting that he had stirred up such painful memories, Suyu stood up and shook his entire body, splashing water all over Qingmo.
“Hey! You brat!” Qingmo instantly snapped back into his lighthearted demeanor. “Careful or I will confiscate your dried fish snacks!”
“I do not like dried fish.” Suyu stated matter-of-factly. “It is time for your medicine.”
“What kind of medicine does a little kitty need?” Qingmo had bathed him precisely to wash away the lingering medicinal odor so he could cuddle him into the blankets later.
Instantly, Suyu lay flat on the ground and refused to budge, practically broadcasting the message: If you do not agree with me, I will drop dead right here.
Actually, acting this shamelessly every once in a while felt rather novel. The burdens resting on the Demon Lord’s shoulders were far too heavy, requiring every single word and action to be weighed through careful deliberation. But things were different now; he was merely a little kitty throwing a tantrum, completely free of any responsibility.
With no way to handle him, especially since he was the one begging the little cat to stay, Qingmo had no choice but to scoop him back up, petting, coaxing, and brushing him until the bitter medicine was finally finished after a lengthy ordeal.
Using spiritual energy to thoroughly dry Rice Cake’s fur, Qingmo picked up a jade comb and began smoothing it out strand by strand. Seeing the look of pure bliss on Rice Cake’s face, a smile naturally bloomed across his lips.
The trip to Chizhou had indeed been exhausting. Cradled in Qingmo’s arms on the couch with the jade comb still in his hand, the cat didn’t even get to be pampered for long before drooping its head straight into the pillow and falling fast asleep.
Curled up beside the pillow and gazing at the sleeping man’s face, Suyu’s eyes flickered as he unconsciously crept closer toward the collar of Qingmo’s robes.
Such a wonderful person had no business enduring all these hardships.
Though Qingmo’s early life wasn’t his doing, the torment of the latter half leading up to his final breath was entirely his own fault.
A sharp pain pierced his chest, and leaning forward, Suyu pressed a soft kiss against Qingmo’s cheek before darting his tongue out to lick it gently. In his dreams, Qingmo felt the soft, tickling sensation against his face, mumbled incoherently, pulled him tightly into his embrace, and kissed him right back.
He had kissed his cheek.
Wide-eyed, Suyu froze completely still in shock.
Over the past two days, Qingmo hadn’t missed any opportunity to pet the cat, but mindful of that so-called beloved, he had never dared cross boundaries, limiting himself at most to poking the small belly or burying his face in the fur for a couple of sniffs. Kissing him on the face was a first.
In a way, this counted as Qingmo taking the initiative to kiss him, right?
Ambiguous pink bubbles blossomed all around. With his cheeks burning hot and his paws itching with the urge to scratch something in sheer panic, Suyu thought:
This is bad! I cannot stay here any longer!
Prying himself free from the embrace with a mighty effort, he hopped off the bed and instantly unleashed his demonic claws upon the outer garments draped over the screen.
The Morning After
“Rice Cake—! What on earth have you done—?!”
The floorboards trembled three times. Outside, Chi Ying picked at his ear, listening to the commotion; based on the sounds, there was a high probability the pavilion master’s cat had stirred up trouble again.
The little fluff ball was still fuming over Qingmo bringing home an outsider, stubbornly refusing to return to his room to sleep and instead curling up to huff and puff in a corner of the hallway.
Having just finished feeding the little fluff ball its breakfast, Chi Ying spotted Qingmo walking out cradling his new pet, his wide sleeves fluttering like shredded tassels around his figure.
Without even needing to guess, this was definitely the cat’s handiwork.
Whistling softly, Chi Ying offered a teasing jeer. “Oho! What is the pavilion master’s new fashion statement today?”
Giving him an unamused, sidelong glare, Qingmo retorted, “What do you know, you little fluff ball! This is a brand new, limited-edition, cat-scratched tassel outer robe, one of a kind!”
Hearing this far-fetched excuse from the main hall, a guest couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter.
Hiding his face against Qingmo’s robes and wishing the ground would swallow him whole, Suyu felt like he had lost all dignity as a cat. Why go this far? I can just pay you back with a new robe. Ten robes would be fine too.
Unrelenting, Qingmo scoffed. “Hmph! Too late! I am going straight to your foster father to tell on you for playing tailor in the middle of the night!”
The morning air had grown slightly warmer. By the time Qingmo arrived, Liuze had just woken up.
Having completed a simple wash, his ink-black hair intertwined with silver strands draped loosely over his shoulders, secured at the back by a modest, unadorned peach-wood hairpin. He leaned back lazily against a chair, cradling Sugar Cake in his arms and teasing the little creature.
Such a serene picture of passing time was instantly shattered by Qingmo’s wailing lament.
“Foster father!” Wiping away tears, Qingmo marched right into the front hall ahead of the guiding attendant, adopting an air of utter grievance.
“I have come to return your cat.”
Never expecting visitors so early in the morning, let alone Qingmo, Liuze offered a concerned greeting. “Qingmo? Why are you crying? Did someone bully you?”
Holding Rice Cake out in one hand, Qingmo finally allowed Liuze to catch sight of his tassel sleeves.
And because it had been quite a while since he last saw Rice Cake, Liuze didn’t even recognize his own cat for a split second. “This is… Rice Cake?”
Covering his face and wishing he were dead, Suyu squeaked out a tiny, soft call of “Father.”
Over on the other end, Qingmo deliberately shook his sleeves to make a rustling commotion, denouncing the nocturnal escapades of a certain cat.
Finding the scene immensely entertaining, Liuze curled the corners of his lips, gently poking Rice Cake on the forehead with his fingertip as he put on a mock expression of scolding. “What are you making such a mess for, turning yourself into this state?”
Cradled against Sugar Cake’s fluffy body, a big cat piled atop a small cat, Suyu mumbled, “I… I was careless and fell victim to an enemy’s trap. I cannot change back.”
“Is that so?” Finding a child who had suffered grievances outside running home to seek backup quite amusing, Liuze smoothed down his fur. “Your older brother just woke up. Wait until He arrives, He will find a way.”
Qingmo’s mission concluded the moment he handed Rice Cake back, and just as he prepared to make his exit, Liuze called out to stop him.
“Qingmo.” Not in a rush to let him leave, Liuze pulled him down to sit beside him, his gaze overflowing with warmth. “I have not paid much attention to external affairs for a long time, but I have heard whispers. The path you are walking is fraught with danger; even Rice Cake, steady as he usually is, fell victim to foul play. You must be extremely cautious.”
Faced with such sudden affection and concern, Qingmo felt slightly awkward, pressing his lips together in bashful shyness. “Actually, I did not…”
He wanted to claim he was far tougher than Suyu and hadn’t gotten hurt at all, but the shredded tassel sleeves failed to conceal anything, exposing the scars on his wrists left by the use of the Seven Absolute Strings.
Seeing this, Liuze instructed an attendant to fetch healing ointment and gently applied it for him. “Sigh… I figured as much. Does it sting?”
The ointment felt cool against his skin. Watching Liuze carefully tend to his wounds, Qingmo felt a sour ache swell up in his chest.
He instinctively opened his mouth to deny it. “It does not hurt.”
It wasn’t that it didn’t hurt; he had simply grown used to it.
Yet Liuze was brilliantly perceptive, seeing straight through the lie with a quiet sigh. “You child, when are you ever not hurting after getting injured?”
If no one cared, it wouldn’t matter. But the better Liuze treated him, the more aggrieved he felt.
As though the suppression accumulated over many years had finally found an outlet, Qingmo felt his eye sockets redden as tears slipped down, feeling foolish for crying. He finally understood that the long-cherished dream he had yearned for all these years could be solved by nothing more than a home.
Unlike the fake tears he used upon entering the door, these were genuine tears born of intense grievance. In Liuze’s eyes, he was just a child, and pulling him close, Liuze murmured softly, “Good child, you do not have to put on such a brave face all the time from now on.”
Anxious down by Qingmo’s feet, Rice Cake wished he could follow routine and be the one holding Qingmo right now. Cursing his short little legs for being unable to reach or offer comfort, he could only exchange wide-eyed stares with Sugar Cake.
Never having seen Rice Cake before, the fluffy white cat tilted its head, blinked its big, curious eyes, and reached out a paw to tap him. “Meow?”
Rice Cake had no interest in meowing; he just wanted to cuddle with Qingmo.
Regardless of how much Sugar Cake tried to play and fool around, the tiny cat refused to engage. Yet the foolish white cat didn’t take it to heart, immediately sprinting over with unbound joy the moment it spotted the snowy white figure walking toward them.
The deity possessed silver hair and snow-white lashes, enveloped by a faint halo of light and carrying an aura of cold detachment that seemed entirely cut off from mortal existence. Yet, He showed no coldness toward this little flower cat’s enthusiasm, bending down to scoop it up into His arms.
“Meow~” Sugar Cake let out an affectionate chirp, having picked up the habit from somewhere recently.
Sensing the overwhelming power of the Heavenly Dao, Qingmo wiped away his tears and snapped straight into attention alongside Rice Cake, scrambling to stand at strict attention in the corner.
The results they brought back from Chizhou hadn’t entirely satisfied the Heavenly Dao, but He couldn’t issue harsh reprimands right in front of Foster Father Liuze. Thus, the moment Mingzhu entered the courtyard, He merely cast a single, fleeting glance in their direction before walking past.
Qingmo and Rice Cake exchanged silent glances through their eyes. Hehe, we didn’t get chewed out.
“Mingzhu.” Liuze’s smile deepened. “Both Qingmo and Rice Cake are injured. As their older brother, you should look after them a bit more.”
“……Understood.”
His habit of sheltering his family wasn’t a one-day thing. Mingzhu agreed purely on the surface, fully intending to revert to his usual severity behind closed doors.
“Ahem, if there is nothing else, I will take my leave then.” Seeing an opportunity to escape, Qingmo prepared to bolt, any lecture-giving was better left for Rice Cake to endure alone.
His little schemes were entirely transparent before the Heavenly Dao, and a cold voice rang out. “Ghost Fiend, stay. I have matters to assign.”
“Oh.” Qingmo halted his rising foot, lowered his head dejectedly, and dragged Rice Cake out to place him upfront.
If anyone gets scolded first, let it be this cat.