While Qibao was bathing inside, Yin Mo took out a front-loading washing machine, a dryer, a shoe-cleaning machine, two small underwear washers, and a power strip from his space, lining them up side by side by the floor-to-ceiling windows. After filling them with water using his Water-Control Divine Ability, he first washed his own sets of spare clothes and shoes.
Yin Mo, who had always considered himself the overlord of the Demon Realm, had specifically selected appliances from the Old Era product brochures he had prepared in advance when scavenging for them in the abandoned city. So the simultaneously running washing machine, shoe cleaner, and underwear washer didn't make much noise. But having so many machines lined up together took up almost all the space by the window, which was visually irritating to Yin Mo.
There was no helping it—if those spoiled rich brats could steal his car, they could just as easily steal his meticulously renovated villa. Rather than wait to be robbed, Yin Mo would rather sell the villa and make do at a hotel.
Once he was done, Yin Mo drew the curtains, reverted to his serpent form, and coiled around the dryer that wasn't in use yet, resting his head on the surface. He kept his eyes fixed on the bathroom while he rested.
When the 15-minute quick wash finished, Yin Mo transformed back into human form, collected the wastewater into his space, and stuffed the wet clothes into the dryer…
Another half hour passed, and his shoes were all cleaned and half-dried, but the sound of the shower running in the bathroom still hadn't stopped.
Yin Mo frowned, walked over, and knocked on the door. "Why are you taking so long? Or do you still not know how to turn it off?"
Qibao heard him, poked her head out from under the cascading water curtain, and squinted as she replied, "It feels so nice, I love showering like this!"
All her bathing experiences had happened within the past month—either jumping straight into a river or fetching a few buckets of water to stand and wipe herself down. Nothing had ever felt as comfortable as warm water automatically spraying from above.
Yin Mo: "…Hurry up and get out. I'm tired. The sooner we finish, the sooner we sleep."
Qibao was actually tired too, so she turned off the shower, wrapped herself in a discarded immortal's "towel," and stepped out of the narrow shower stall, drying herself off from head to toe.
Afraid she might mess around, Yin Mo was still standing outside the door and casually reminded her, "There's a hairdryer in the cabinet under the sink. It blows hot air—you can dry your hair with it."
Qibao found it, but she didn't know how to use it. She changed into a cool, flowing set of female cultivator's silk undergarments, slipped on a pair of clogs made from thousand-year Spiritual Wood, and after opening the door, handed the hairdryer to Yin Mo across from her. "You dry it for me."
A dense wave of damp moisture and an unfamiliar fragrance of floral dew rushed at him as the door swung open. Yin Mo instinctively closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw both the ordinary hairdryer and Qibao's ethereal white undergarments, with the matching-colored bandeau beneath stretched high, pressed tightly against the outer silk fabric.
The pagoda was an inanimate object, but Yin Mo was a flesh-and-blood Snake Demon—and a male one at that.
In the past, he had devoted himself entirely to cultivation, pursuing Ascension to the Great Dao, and had no interest in such base desires. After arriving here, the Spiritual Qi was too thin, and even his diligent cultivation yielded little result. But before he could develop any interest in such lowly desires, he had been humiliated by those human rich brats and had retreated bitterly to live alone in the mountains. There were indeed snakes in the mountains, but they were all low-level ones without intelligence—Yin Mo wouldn't even deign to glance at them.
The Qibao before him now, having showered for too long, had cheeks flushed like rosy peaches, and even her neck was tinged with a light pink.
It would have been one thing if it were just her appearance, but from head to toe she was radiating the aura of Spiritual Qi that intoxicated Yin Mo—a hundred times more intense than during the day.
His blood surged, but Yin Mo didn't dare follow his instincts and coil around her, afraid Qibao would smash him with the pagoda.
"Do it yourself."
Since he couldn't wrap around her, Yin Mo had no desire to serve her. He turned to leave.
A golden pagoda suddenly blocked his path, its spire pointing at him like a cone.
Yin Mo had no choice but to step back. Just as he was about to take the hairdryer, he thought about how many people might have touched its handle. He pulled out his own from his space instead and told Qibao to stand in the bathroom, where the outlet was most convenient.
Qibao: "How long will it take to dry?"
Yin Mo wanted to say two or three minutes, but his gaze landed on Qibao's thick, wet hair that covered nearly her entire back and reached all the way to her waist. Exhausted, he said, "Probably ten-something minutes. Speaking of which, women in the base don't really keep their hair this long anymore. You should get a haircut—shoulder length would be fine."
Qibao: "Do you know how many Heavenly Treasures' worth of Spiritual Qi and Spiritual Liquid went into this head of hair?"
She had condensed her own physical body, and since this was the form it had taken, it meant she was naturally meant to look this way. Qibao didn't want to change a single strand of hair.
The people in the base had to work, hunt, and fight to survive. She didn't have to do any of that—she could just do as she pleased.
With that, Qibao walked out of the entryway, glanced at the single bed that belonged to her inside, casually stored it into her space, and brought out a female cultivator's Spiritual Wood canopy bed. The blanket and pillow were still in the state she'd left them in when she last rested—a bit messy, but messy in a way that was luxurious and exquisite.
With the bed in place, Qibao set a Spiritual Wood chair with a backrest beside it, sat down, pressed the back of her head against the chair, closed her eyes, and said, "Go ahead."
Yin Mo's eyes were turning red with envy. Every piece of furniture she had, even though it had lost all its spiritual power, was still better than the solid wood furniture he had painstakingly picked out!
Feeling indignant, Yin Mo plugged in the hairdryer and immediately set it to the highest setting, blowing a chaotic gust of air at Qibao's head.
Qibao frowned, and the pagoda appeared in her palm.
Yin Mo immediately adjusted it to the medium setting, obediently holding her damp long hair with one hand and drying it properly.
Her scalp was gently tugged by his force, and within a few minutes, Qibao was so comfortable she began to feel drowsy. She released the various new clothes she had bought today in advance, then drifted off to sleep following that wave of drowsiness, her head tilting slightly to one side.
Yin Mo stood behind her, looking down from above, able to see her long eyelashes and her slightly parted lips from tilting her head back.
As he watched, his wrist was scalded by the continuous stream of hot air, snapping him back to reality. He shook his head to dispel those messy thoughts, turned off the hairdryer, took out a comb, and carefully combed her hair bit by bit. He had no choice—if she woke up in the morning and found her long hair, which she couldn't bear to cut short, in a tangled mess, that pagoda might really land on him.
After combing it, Yin Mo poked her shoulder in annoyance. "Alright, go sleep on the bed."
Qibao groggily opened her eyes, then flopped headfirst onto the canopy bed in front of her, resting on one pillow while hugging another.
Yin Mo drew the bed curtains closed for her and carried away her pile of new clothes.
With the washing machine doing the work, Yin Mo went into the bathroom. To his surprise, the small hotel shower that had once disgusted him still carried a trace of her spiritual qi. Upon closer discernment, that aura merely resembled spiritual qi—in truth, it was mixed with a hint of soft, silky fragrance.
If the crisp coolness of pure spiritual qi made one involuntarily want to cultivate, this fragrant spiritual qi would tempt people down the wrong path.
Yin Mo was hardly a cultivator with a steadfast heart. He indulged himself and leaned against the bathroom wall.
.
With the earlier threat in place, Qibao neither feared that Yin Mo still harbored thoughts of escape nor worried that he would be bold enough to harm her life. She slept very soundly.
Woken in a daze by the noisy chatter of people outside the window, Qibao turned over and opened her eyes. Through the thin white gauze curtains, she saw a snake demon as thick as an arm coiled on the spiritual wood chair across from her, its snake head turned away from her.
Qibao sat up, remembering what had happened, and asked the snake demon, which had also woken up and begun to slither: "Why are you sleeping on my chair?"
Having washed clothes all night only to be complained at by her, Yin Mo was very displeased: "I originally had a two-meter big bed too, but your bed took up all the space. I had no bed to sleep on, and I didn't want to sleep on the dirty sofa the mortals prepared. If not here, should I sleep in your bed?"
Qibao: "…I forgot last night. Next time I'll sleep in the pagoda."
Yin Mo snorted coldly, tossed her pile of clothes onto the bed, transformed back into human form, and went to the bathroom.
Qibao happily put away her clothes.
After Yin Mo came out, Qibao went in.
Yin Mo reminded her to remember to get dressed when she came out, then walked to the window and pulled open the curtains. It was past seven o'clock, and the sunlight outside was bright. On the street, ability users—some heading to work, some idling—came and went, chatting about things that sounded meaningless to Yin Mo. But compared to his usual irritability and impatience, this morning Yin Mo exuded a sense of laziness throughout. Looking closely, traces of satisfaction still lingered in the depths of his naturally cold, gloomy eyes.
The sound of water came from the bathroom again. Yin Mo's expression shifted slightly, and he sat down at the desk in the room that was purely decorative, lowering his head to play a game on his wristband.
A dozen or so minutes later, the water stopped. After another moment, the bathroom door was pulled open.
Yin Mo glanced sideways and saw Qibao wearing that light yellow dress, white high heels on her feet, two new bracelets hanging from her wrist at her side, and a crescent-shaped gold pendant around her neck that looked a bit like a snake from a distance…
His wristband vibrated—his game character had died.
Qibao also spoke at that moment, calling out to him: "Let's go, I'm hungry. Which breakfast place around here is good?"
Yin Mo straightened up, first finding fault with her outfit: "Dressed like that, you look more delicate and precious than some young ladies in the inner city. Walking beside you, everyone will think I'm your servant."
Qibao: "If you don't want to be a servant, you can go back to being a prisoner in the pagoda."
Yin Mo: "…"
He walked forward with a dark expression.
Qibao pulled open the door and stepped out first. But then Yin Mo, who had already reached the entryway, turned around and went back into the bathroom.
Qibao's lips twitched, but she held back. Even a prisoner had to be granted the right to relieve himself.
She closed the door and stood alone in the hallway.
Two burly ability users came out of another room a dozen meters away. Their eyes stuck to Qibao the moment they spotted her. Although Qibao looked like someone who had never suffered in the apocalypse, she also carried none of the cold, fierce aura of a high-level ability user. The two exchanged a glance and deliberately moved closer to Qibao.
Qibao sensed their malice. She let out a cold laugh, released the pagoda, and sent it crashing toward one of their arms.
The other was a C-level Metal-type Ability User, who reacted quickly by summoning a golden shield.
The miniature pagoda, small as a figurine, pierced through the golden shield as if passing through air. Its tip, rounded up close but tapered like a cone from afar, grazed the burly man's thick arm, leaving a trail of blood.
"Look around again, and I'll blind you." Withdrawing the pagoda, Qibao said flatly.
The two rude Ability Users didn't dare breathe heavily as they turned and left through the elevator at the other end of the corridor.
Just then, the door beside Qibao finally showed signs of movement.
Qibao glanced over casually, about to complain about Yin Mo's dawdling, when he saw that the man—who had just been wearing a plain black short-sleeved outfit—had now changed into a pair of crisp black trousers, paired with a black shirt of equally crisp, seemingly high-end fabric. Two buttons on the shirt were undone, revealing a stretch of fair, firm chest.
He wore no necklace, but on his wrist was a brand-new black watch. Its dial background was as dark as deep night, and the numerals displayed on it shimmered like starlight, as if made of diamonds.
Seeing that Qibao had immediately noticed the most expensive accessory on him at the moment, Yin Mo was satisfied and asked, "Now, do I still look like a sidekick?"
Qibao shook his head, pointing at the watch, and asked, "Did you pick this up from the ruined city too?"
Yin Mo: "…Let's go. I'll take you somewhere good to eat."