Nanyi clearly remembered resting against the carved railing beside the couch last night. When she woke up, what met her eyes was a light purple robe—a man’s shoulder and chest. Startled, she discovered she had fallen asleep leaning on Zhang Yuehui’s shoulder. She tried to sit up straight suddenly, but her neck was held down by a hand.

“Sit up slowly.” Zhang Yuehui’s voice came from above.

Last night, Nanyi had refused to rest in Zhang Yuehui’s room, saying she would return once curfew was lifted. The two had sat up all night, going through every aspect of the Bureau of Shipping incident inside and out. By the end of their conversation, they were truly exhausted, even Zhang Yuehui’s voice becoming thread-like. Forgetting where their conversation had broken off, gradually both fell silent.

Her neck was indeed somewhat stiff. Following the force of Zhang Yuehui’s hand, Nanyi slowly sat up straight, meeting his face, feeling inexplicably awkward.

There was an indescribable familiarity in the movement.

She suddenly remembered many past evenings with gentle breezes, when the two sat under the big tree in the courtyard to cool off and chat. When they became drowsy from talking, she would, half-awake and half-drowsy, deliberately lean against his shoulder to sleep.

And last night, Zhang Yuehui had obviously intentionally sat beside her and moved away the small table that separated them.

This person could be very theatrical when he wanted to be, making people feel like they were seeing flowers through fog, always feeling he was playing with the world without half a sincere heart. But there were also moments when she sensed there was still silent, nurturing warmth deep in his heart.

Nanyi stood up in a covering manner: “It’s dawn. I need to return to Wangxue Wu.”

“No use being anxious. Xie Queshan won’t return so early.” Zhang Yuehui yawned lazily.

Nanyi’s thoughts were directly exposed, so she argued defensively: “I’m afraid that not returning all night will make Madam Gantang worry about finding me.”

But Zhang Yuehui grabbed her hand, casually turning the bracelet on her wrist.

His knuckles were cool—hands that hadn’t suffered hardship, fingertips without calluses, touching her skin as smooth and cool as jade. She suddenly thought of Xie Queshan, whose hands had a slightly rough texture and were always burning hot.

Two such different people, yet thinking of him made her feel somewhat eager to return home.

She instinctively withdrew her hand.

Zhang Yuehui’s eyes darkened slightly, half-serious, half-joking: “Don’t take off the bracelet, or however I saved Xie Queshan, I can betray him the same way.”

Nanyi was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked: “How much gold is wrapped around this bracelet?”

Zhang Yuehui was stunned. He spoke to her of sentiment, and she asked him about price. His words were truly blocked completely.

He laughed helplessly: “You may go.”

…

Nanyi quietly returned to Wangxue Wu, first reporting her safety to Madam Gantang. She couldn’t say much about what Xie Queshan had done in all this, only saying that Song Muchuan was safe.

The entire mansion continued as usual, busily taking their three daily meals. The news of Gusha’s death couldn’t be hidden at all. Everyone gathered together chattering about the outside situation, all applauding with glee.

Nanyi was somewhat happy—she had completed a remarkable task. But her joy had no one to share with; she could only wait for Xie Queshan to return so she could claim credit with him. However, everyone was accustomed to Xie Queshan’s absence and no one questioned or inquired about it.

Only Nanyi waited anxiously alone, from day to night.

—A round trip to Tiger Kneel Mountain would be more than sufficient for one day. He had been detained at Wanyan Jun’s mansion for so long—why hadn’t he returned yet? Had some other incident occurred?

Nanyi sat on the low wall waiting, where she could see the mansion gate at a glance, with everyone coming and going in view. The weather was very humid, as if it might rain, yet there was no movement on the horizon. Heavy, oppressive moisture lurked in the air, making it hard to breathe.

At first, any slight sound would make her immediately look up, but later she deliberately didn’t raise her head, only listening carefully to footsteps and the gatekeeper’s voice. If even the footsteps didn’t sound right and the gatekeeper didn’t greet anyone, it definitely wasn’t him.

Time walked clanging on the sundial. This long, helpless waiting amplified Nanyi’s sensory perception. She noticed that daytime had quietly grown longer, dormant life force breaking through soil to compete in blooming among the greenery. Looking up, she saw wild geese in formation in the distance, passing across the sky.

The sky finally darkened. In the distance, a row of lanterns hung under the eaves. With eyes slightly squinted, the light scattered, blurring into a sea in her vision.

Everything was fine, everything was so wrong.

Night grew deeper, and people moving about the mansion gradually decreased. Staying outside any longer would be conspicuous. Nanyi climbed down from the low wall and went to wait in Xie Queshan’s room.

The spring shirt covering her body soon made her break out in a light sweat. Nanyi waited with burning anxiety, nearly irritable. Countless possibilities flashed through her mind, her heart suspended there, unable to settle. This day seemed endless.

Was he still alive? Would they be able to meet again tomorrow?

Nanyi stared at the empty screen in the room, her mind wandering and quickly becoming distracted, feeling this screen was so bland it was annoying. The night watch drum for the first watch had just sounded, and the surroundings grew increasingly quiet.

She suddenly became very angry, finding everything displeasing. She ground ink, found the largest brush, and began scribbling randomly on that plain white screen.

She didn’t know where such audacity came from. Xie Queshan was actually a very particular person who would wash his hands before reading or writing.

But she had a suppressed resentment in her belly. Not only did she not wash her hands, but she wanted to make the destruction thorough.

Who knew if there would be a tomorrow after today? This neat and proper behavior—who was it for?

If Xie Queshan returned, this small matter was nothing—at worst she’d be scolded by him. She was his great benefactor after all. If Xie Queshan didn’t return, then it mattered even less.

Even if she overturned the roof, he wouldn’t come to settle accounts with her.

Thinking this, tears unexpectedly fell.

Wronged. So wronged.

She drew a big turtle.

Still not satisfied.

She had to write Xie Queshan’s name on it.

In handwriting like dog scratches.

Outside, rumbling spring thunder echoed dully, finally raining freely with pattering sounds, mixed with the scent of earth, drifting faintly into her nose.

Nanyi inadvertently looked back and froze—when had he returned?

He leaned against the door frame with arms crossed, watching her with a half-smile, not knowing how long he had been watching.

The oppressive feeling in her chest scattered like opening a floodgate. Instead, her tears fell more fiercely. She simply began crying loudly, still not satisfied, and directly threw the brush in her hand at him.

Ink splattered all over him in a mess.

She cried breathlessly, her tone still fierce: “Are you human or ghost?!”

“What do you think?”

He walked over, slightly narrowed eyes staring at the masterpiece on the screen, showing a trace of dangerous light.

The suppression of a certain great demon king was still deeply ingrained.

Especially when caught red-handed doing bad things.

Nanyi suddenly felt guilty. All her righteousness vanished completely. Forgetting to wipe her tears, she hurriedly grabbed the inkstone and splashed all the ink onto the screen, crudely covering the turtle and name.

“I just wanted to add a landscape painting to your room.”

“Never seen such an ugly landscape.”

“…You, as long as you returned safely, that’s good. I’ll leave first then.” Nanyi wanted to slip away.

Her wrist was suddenly caught, and she was pulled into a burning embrace.

His clothes were still wet—he had rushed back through the rain in the night.

Wanyan Jun was thorough, and investigating everything took until nighttime. Curfew had long begun outside, so reasonably Xie Queshan should return in the morning. But he couldn’t wait a moment, ordering people to open several ward gates and returning home directly.

He wasn’t sure if she would be at home… or if Zhang Yuehui had already taken her away.

At this moment, seeing her safe and sound here, even though the room was messy as if ransacked, he felt there was nothing better than this.

He looked at the dripping ink staining the screen, winding down along the gauze patterns on the screen. Under the bright moonlight, it looked like flowing, melting mountains.

Ahead lay high mountains and dangerous roads, swift rapids and treacherous waters. Looking down, there was only a single light boat, difficult to cross the passes.

Even though danger had turned to safety, his heart remained heavy. He didn’t know where tomorrow was, didn’t know how far he could go, much less how long this current tenderness could last.

The vastness stretching before his eyes, yet the real feeling of solidly holding her hand at this moment—contradictory yet subtle.

He lowered his head to look at Nanyi so close at hand. Joy of reunion ultimately gained the upper hand. Seeing her cry until the rouge and powder on her face were smeared, he actually felt inclined to tease her: “This screen of mine is valuable. How should you compensate me?”

Nanyi panicked and defended herself: “You’re so heartless! I saved your life—ah!”

Looking down, Nanyi discovered she had stepped on that brush, her silk stocking soaked with ink, seeping to her foot. She hurriedly tried to jump away several steps, but was lifted up by the waist.

“Don’t run around, you’re getting it all over my room.” He was both disgusted and helpless.

Xie Queshan placed her on the couch, grasping her ankle, removing her silk stocking, then taking a handkerchief from nearby to wipe the ink marks from her foot.

Her foot was very cool. When touched by his burning hand, her whole body trembled slightly. Whether from nervousness or slight ticklishness, Nanyi unconsciously curled her toes.

His Adam’s apple rolled, feeling inexplicably feverish, wanting to talk about proper business to divert attention.

“You and…”

He had wanted to ask about what happened after she went to find Zhang Yuehui. Before finishing his words, his gaze suddenly noticed her wrist, where a gold-wrapped bracelet was worn.

That lingering ghost of a bracelet again.

The rest of his words were instantly swallowed back, retreating in defeat, unable to ask anything. That bit of jealousy and possessiveness rapidly expanded beneath his composed exterior. Unable to express it, he could only sulk alone, his gaze happening to sweep across her body at this moment.

Her legs rested on his legs. She could only support her upper body with her hands against the couch, chest slightly thrust forward. A full hill rose and fell faintly with her breathing. The pear-white spring shirt was shrouded in snow-like moonlight, making her skin seem like snow, hazy and indistinct, like a crystalline river flowing through valleys, flowing to his side.

His breathing immediately became rapid. Countless strange thoughts flashed through his mind, unable to grasp a single thread, angry at Zhang Yuehui and at himself.

She was completely unaware that his mind was already filled with so many thoughts at this moment. She chattered on by herself, trying to break the suddenly awkward atmosphere: “If you hadn’t returned, I would have thought you were going to die… Such a terrifying person like you dying before me would be truly unbelievable. Would I have to come lay out your corpse?”

Xie Queshan listened absentmindedly, all his attention falling on her delicate foot. His entire palm perfectly wrapped around her slender ankle, holding it in his hand like a section of white lotus root. Fragile, warm and soft, as if it would break with a pinch, yet seemingly resilient enough to bear all his uncontrolled strength.

“Fortunately you returned… otherwise, I would have told Second Sister and Xiaoliu your secret—” She noticed his distraction and became a bit angry that he wasn’t listening to her seriously. Her foot very naturally stretched forward and kicked him, “Hey, Xie Queshan, are you listening to me…”

Her voice suddenly choked—she seemed to have kicked something incredible. Even through clothing, she could feel its hardness and heat.

With a thunderous crash, lightning and thunder exploded in his body. He suddenly looked up, forgetting to hide his gaze, staring at her so nakedly and directly, his eyes overflowing with desire.

He was gritting his teeth and enduring, yet she had to provoke him like this.

Not knowing what possessed him, he vengefully brushed across her sole. She cried out, tickled and wanting to draw her leg back. He had anticipated this, tightening his grip and directly pulling her calf forward.

With this back and forth, she was pinned beneath him.

Steaming body heat pressed together, hearts beating against each other, having wrestled another day and night from the King of Hell’s hands.