“Who’s there!” Ji Shu whipped her head around like a startled bird. The next moment, she realized she was wearing only… She hastily crouched down, her long hair falling forward to cover most of her face.
Chu Wusu said nothing. He had seen everything.
It was a small garment with a hibiscus pattern. Moon-white satin, pink hibiscus flowers—the embroidery so fine that even the veins on the petals were clearly visible. At this moment, it hung crookedly at her slender waist, on the verge of slipping off.
For the first time in his life, Chu Wusu had no idea where to put his hands and feet. He had never been so flustered.
He coughed lightly, as if confirming his voice still belonged to him, then turned away with feigned composure. “Put your clothes on first.”
A few moments of silence passed, and slowly, the rustle of fabric came from behind him.
She was getting dressed.
Chu Wusu tried not to listen, but the sound was impossible to block out. That traitorous blush spread to the tips of his ears.
Just as Chu Wusu was forcefully suppressing his discomfort, Ji Shu finally finished dressing.
She wore a red robe with subtle patterns embroidered on the collar and cuffs, her ink-black hair falling loose. A dark red silk sash cinched her waist, making it look impossibly slender. A dot of cinnabar marked the center of her brow—no other adornment.
Ji Shu’s small face was flushed an enticing pink, both ashamed and flustered. “Sect Master… I’m done.”
Chu Wusu turned around, and the first thing he saw was her shy, blushing face—those alluring, upturned fox eyes glistening as if freshly washed by rain, her thick, curled lashes trembling with each blink, every flutter fanning at his heart.
His mind went blank for a moment, and it took him a long while to recognize her. This was his Right Guardian—Ji Shu?
Since when had Ji Shu become so… alluring?
Chu Wusu tried to recall what Ji Shu used to look like, but his memory was a blank.
Fine.
He admitted he had never paid attention to this subordinate before.
Seeing him staring at her in a daze, the corners of Ji Shu’s lips curved up almost imperceptibly. She had only taken over the original owner’s identity—her body and face were entirely her own.
She was a Divine Artifact, born of heaven and earth, the favored child of creation. Gathering the spiritual essence of heaven and earth into one being, her human form was naturally a rare beauty beyond compare in this world.
“Sect Master…” Ji Shu seemed utterly embarrassed by his gaze, slightly turning her small face away, not daring to look at him.
Chu Wusu finally came back to his senses, looking slightly awkward. “Ji Shu. So it’s you.”
He steadied himself and finally regained his usual composure, his voice turning stern. “Tell me—why did you attack Bai Ruoyao?”
Ji Shu’s rosy face instantly drained of color. “Sect Master, you came to find me just for Bai Ruoyao?”
Seeing her face go pale as if all color had been stripped from it in an instant, Chu Wusu asked in return, “What else?”
Truthfully, he wasn’t that displeased anymore—mainly because of what had just happened…
Ahem.
Whatever anger he’d had was long gone.
It was this incident that made him realize how interesting Ji Shu was, and he couldn’t help wanting to tease her a little.
Ji Shu bit her full cherry lips, her expression mournful. “Sect Master, why is it that you only ever have eyes for Bai Ruoyao? I just… I just…”
“Just what?” The corners of Chu Wusu’s lips lifted slightly, the amusement in his eyes growing ever stronger.
“I just wanted the Sect Master to notice me too.” Moisture gathered at the corners of Ji Shu’s eyes. “I—I acted on impulse when I wanted to attack Miss Bai. I never meant to kill her. I only wanted to scare her.”
“Cult Leader, I know I was wrong. I’m willing to apologize to Miss Bai. Please, please don’t hate me, okay?”
Tears fell from the corners of Ji Shu’s eyes at that moment, trailing down her pale, delicate face.
That heart-stirring fragility stirred an inexplicable trace of pleasure deep in Chu Wusu’s heart.
She really did look pitiful.
Chu Wusu gently tilted her chin up with the tip of his fan, the cool jade pressing against her soft skin, forcing her to raise her head and meet his gaze. He leaned in slightly, his tone betraying neither pleasure nor anger: “You really… know you were wrong?”
“Really.” Ji Shu’s nose was red, her voice choked with sobs. “As long as the Cult Leader isn’t angry with me, I’ll do anything.”
“And what could you do?” Chu Wusu gave neither assent nor refusal, though his tone softened somewhat.
Perhaps sensing this change in his attitude, her eyes flickered. “I… I can serve the Cult Leader tea, pour water for him, attend to him.”
Seeing through her little scheme, Chu Wusu found it amusing. Quite the little schemer, pushing her luck.
“You want to be my maidservant?”
“Mm…” Ji Shu wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand, looking at him hopefully. “May I?”
“What do you think? The one you hurt was Bai Ruoyao. Why would you be my maidservant?” Chu Wusu deliberately paused, savoring the look of utter devastation that flashed across her face. “What does the Right Guardian think—may she?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Ji Shu tilted her little face up, her damp fox-like eyes blinking, her voice soft and pleading. “Please… pretty please…”
Tsk.
Chu Wusu sighed inwardly. Was his Right Guardian some fox spirit reborn? Looking at him with that expression—the corners of her eyes slightly red, her gaze misty—like she’d suffered some enormous injustice, or like she was acting coy, begging for a kiss.
This was truly a difficult situation for him.
After all, he was a man too.
“Fine. It’s not impossible for you to be my maidservant.” Catching sight of her suddenly widened eyes, he added unhurriedly, “But you must behave yourself. Understood?”
Ji Shu was overjoyed, nodding hastily and raising her slender, fair fingertip as if taking an oath. “Cult Leader, I’ll definitely behave!”
Chu Wusu was amused. His lips curved, and with a flick, his folding fan snapped open with a swish, half-concealing his peerlessly handsome face, leaving only a pair of smiling, peach-blossom eyes visible.
Those eyes brimmed with rippling laughter, their corners slightly tilted—utterly bewitching.
Ji Shu stared, transfixed, not blinking, just gazing at him blankly and dazedly, as if her senses had been frozen, even her breath slowing a beat.
Seeing this, the smile at the corners of Chu Wusu’s mouth deepened. He felt that agreeing to Ji Shu’s request and keeping her by his side as a maidservant was absolutely the right decision.
She really was quite entertaining, wasn’t she?
With a face so alluring and seductive, every glance brimming with charm—and yet she so often wore this silly, adorable expression: blank and dazed, like a little fox whose fur had been unexpectedly ruffled.
This contrast between innocence and allure made one want to keep looking at her—want to look just a little longer.
“Cult Leader, then what about Miss Bai…?” Ji Shu remembered this matter and glanced at him cautiously.
Chu Wusu raised an eyebrow. “What is there to fear? Since I’ve agreed, naturally I won’t go back on my word.”
“Cult Leader, you’re the best! I knew you wouldn’t deceive me.” A radiant smile bloomed across her lovely little face.
Chu Wusu narrowed his seductive phoenix eyes slightly, gazing at the undisguised trust and admiration in her eyes. His teeth itched faintly with irritation, but it wasn’t the right moment to lash out, so he could only steady himself in silence.
“Oh right, speaking of Miss Bai—she still doesn’t know you’re the Cult Leader, does she?” Ji Shu blinked her dewy eyes, her face the picture of innocence. “So I suppose I can’t call you Cult Leader then, huh?”
Chu Wusu lifted his chin slightly, about to speak, but Ji Shu kept talking, cutting him off before he could get a word in.
“Master.” Her fox eyes curved into two crescent moons, her radiant smile tinged with a hint of cunning, her voice soft enough to wring water from. She leaned in closer, repeating each word deliberately: “Then how about I call you Master instead of Cult Leader?”
She was too close.
The fabric of her clothing brushed fleetingly against his fingertips, and her faint, elegant fragrance seized the moment to slip into his nose—thread after thread, stirring his senses.
Chu Wusu didn’t pull away; instead, his gaze darkened abruptly. He raised a hand to grip her chin, forcing those damp fox eyes to meet his, his voice dropping a few degrees. “Don’t push your luck.”
A pause.
“Call me gongzi.”
Ji Shu let out a somewhat disappointed “oh,” the trailing note drooping like a little fox who’d failed to beg a treat.
Chu Wusu nearly laughed out of sheer exasperation at the sight of her. He released his hand, his gaze lingering a moment on her chin, pinched red—the red mark stood out starkly against her fair skin, and for some inexplicable reason, it stirred a nameless restlessness in his heart.
He turned away, his tone cooling, and left only one sentence behind: “That’s enough. It’s getting dark. Since you’re to be my maidservant, keep up.”