Though he appeared to be a somewhat cold and rigid man, his lips were unexpectedly soft when kissed. Wu Zhen released Mei Zhuyu and saw that he still looked dazed, his lips moving slightly as if saying something. She was so close that she caught a few words: “Chang Ying… Jing… Jing Yi…”
What? Wu Zhen pondered in confusion for a moment before suddenly realizing that the young lord seemed to be reciting the Qingjing Scripture. Being suddenly kissed by a woman, his reaction shouldn’t have been to recite scriptures, should it? If word got out, people might laugh themselves to death.
Wu Zhen found it quite amusing and couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Seeing that the young lord was still maintaining a blank expression, bent over with his head pulled down by her, she playfully patted his chest and said, “My lord, snap out of it.”
Then she inadvertently knocked over this poor young lord who had suffered her molestation and mockery. He fell into the flower bed, causing a flurry of pink petals to scatter.
The fall finally brought Mei Zhuyu back to his senses. He propped himself up to a half-sitting position and straightened the fallen flower branches on top of him. Suddenly, his vision darkened as Wu Zhen crouched in front of him, looking at him with an intriguing expression. She asked softly, “My lord, would you mind if we moved up our wedding date a bit?”
Everyone appreciates beauty, and Wu Zhen enjoyed playing with pretty ladies and gentlemen, finding them pleasing to the eye. However, she never considered herself a lustful person, as she viewed beautiful people like beautiful flowers – meant to be appreciated, without any improper thoughts. But at that moment, seeing the young lord stunned and fallen among the flowers, then sitting up with pursed lips, his neck flushed red, looking somewhat disheveled yet silently enduring, she suddenly felt the urge to pounce on him.
This feeling was a first for her. Strangely enough, the young lord was quite reserved, not fond of talking or lively atmospheres, and his appearance was ordinary. Why did he attract her more than those handsome gentlemen?
Mei Zhuyu didn’t understand why she suddenly brought up this topic again and couldn’t quite follow her train of thought. He murmured, repeating, “…Move up?”
Wu Zhen said, “Ah, because I think a gentleman like you who needs to recite the Qingjing Scripture after just one kiss probably wouldn’t approve of any intimate contact before marriage, right?”
Mei Zhuyu: “…” Did he recite the Qingjing Scripture earlier?
Wu Zhen continued, “Or perhaps after witnessing my behavior today, you find it unacceptable and no longer want to marry me?”
Mei Zhuyu’s chest heaved once, and he immediately said, “No, I want to marry you. There’s nothing wrong with you; I’m the one who’s out of place.” He had lived in the Taoist temple for so long that he was different from ordinary people and didn’t know how to interact with women. If there were any problems between them, it was likely due to him. Mei Zhuyu thought about his awkward reaction earlier and began to wonder if he was being too rigid. But if he were to act differently… he couldn’t bring himself to do so.
Wu Zhen fell silent, quietly observing the young lord whose tone was serious and determined, but whose expression showed slight apprehension. A blood-red azalea flower had fallen on his chest, matching his still-reddened ears. Wu Zhen suddenly reached out to pluck the flower, while her other hand pulled Mei Zhuyu up from the flower bed.
The two walked side by side again, with Wu Zhen playing with the blood-red azalea flower, pondering something, before putting it in her mouth and eating it.
These azaleas were edible, with a sweet and sour taste. Earlier, when the mountainside was in full bloom, local farmers would gather large bundles of flowers to sell in the city. Many households and restaurants would use these flowers to make fresh flower cakes and pastries.
As Wu Zhen was lost in thought, she suddenly felt a tightening on her hand. She turned her head to see Mei Zhuyu holding her wrist.
“Whatever you want to do is fine, as long as it’s what you desire,” Mei Zhuyu said. It seemed like he had been mulling over these words for a long time before finally saying them, his tone very solemn.
Wu Zhen’s foot slipped, and she almost lost her balance.
What’s going on? Could it be that she was getting older and thus had less self-control? Wu Zhen wondered.
Mei Zhuyu frowned and stepped forward, supporting her with one hand while bending down to examine her foot. “Did you twist your ankle?”
It had indeed twisted, though not severely. It was only a bit painful, and Wu Zhen normally wouldn’t have paid attention to such a minor issue. But seeing Mei Zhuyu’s concerned expression, she smiled and said, “Yes, I twisted it. Why don’t you carry me on your back?”
After saying this, she wondered if it was too much to ask. Would this easily flustered young lord have the strength? As it turned out, he did. Without a word, Mei Zhuyu lifted her onto his back.
Wu Zhen contentedly rested on the young lord’s back, surprisingly finding his shoulders quite broad and the arms supporting her quite strong. Though he appeared slender, he carried her, not a light person, along a long stretch of narrow mountain path without even breathing heavily. Was the young lord exceptionally strong, or was she not as heavy as she thought?
After passing through the narrow path, they reached a slightly wider section with a large rock by the roadside. Mei Zhuyu walked to the rock and set Wu Zhen down, then crouched in front of her and lifted her injured foot.
Wu Zhen was about to say it was fine when she felt a sudden, intense pain in her ankle. Caught off guard, she almost cried out but managed to hold it back. Then Mei Zhuyu put her leg down and said, “It’s done.”
To be honest, Wu Zhen felt that the initial twist hadn’t been very painful, but after Mei Zhuyu’s treatment, it truly hurt. She rubbed her leg, feeling it might bruise. It seemed the young lord’s strength was indeed formidable.
Wu Zhen, breaking out in a cold sweat, said, “Your technique is quite efficient.”
Mei Zhuyu, oblivious to her discomfort, replied earnestly, “I often twisted my ankle as a child, so I became accustomed to treating it myself.”
Wu Zhen: “Oh? It seems you were quite a mischievous child, running around so much that you frequently twisted your ankle.”
Mei Zhuyu opened his mouth but said nothing, tacitly agreeing. In truth, he had been sent to the Taoist temple as a child, only seeing his parents once a year. The rest of the time was spent in cultivation, with days that were mostly arduous and peaceful. Although his master and senior brothers cared for him, they never went easy on his training. When he was just a few years old and learning to manipulate qi, he often failed to master the technique of leaping. His master set up hundreds of stone pillars, each as wide as a fist, for him to practice on. At first, he couldn’t manage it and would often fall, frequently twisting his ankle. His ankles were always swollen and thick. Later, when he learned to treat his foot injuries, he also mastered the art of flying and leaping.
Even later, when his junior disciples began to practice qi manipulation, he would wait nearby, ready to help treat anyone who got hurt. His junior disciples would always cry in pain when he treated them – Mei Zhuyu never understood why they wailed so miserably when it didn’t hurt, perhaps because they were too pampered. As for his childhood, it had nothing to do with being mischievous.
Mei Zhuyu didn’t want to tell Wu Zhen about these things. The world he had been in contact with was one that ordinary people couldn’t see, and he didn’t want his beloved to become entangled with those dangerous elements because of him.
Wu Zhen sat on the rock, trying to imagine a mischievous young Mei Zhuyu, but found she couldn’t picture it. Giving up, she put her hands on Mei Zhuyu’s shoulders and naturally climbed back onto his back.
“My foot hurts. Please carry me down the mountain,” she said.
“Alright,” Mei Zhuyu naturally agreed to this small request.
Wu Zhen rested her chin on Mei Zhuyu’s shoulder, occasionally asking, “Are you sure you’re not tired?”
Mei Zhuyu shook his head, “Not tired.”
A butterfly flew past them, and Wu Zhen suddenly leaned back, reaching out to grasp the butterfly’s wings, forcefully capturing it in her hand. Despite her large movement, Mei Zhuyu’s footing remained steady without a single misstep, only turning his head to give her an inquiring look.
Wu Zhen showed him the yellow swallowtail butterfly she had caught. After Mei Zhuyu turned his head back, Wu Zhen placed the butterfly on top of his head. Forced to submit to the cat lord’s tyranny, the butterfly had no choice but to stay obediently on the young lord’s head, serving as a trembling decoration for the monotonous black gauze. In the end, the cat lord deemed its color too plain and unattractive, mercifully waving it away.
Having grown accustomed to the scenery of Azalea Mountain, Wu Zhen’s attention quickly shifted to the young lord. When he had fallen into the flower bed earlier, some petals and leaves had stuck to his clothes, and a few strands of hair had come loose from his headpiece, falling onto his neck. The black strands of hair meandered down, sticking to his skin due to sweat.
Wu Zhen looked up at the sky. It was a fine day with the sun shining brightly, scorching hot on one’s skin. The person carrying her had sweated profusely. As she watched, Wu Zhen couldn’t help but blow a breath of air onto the young lord’s sweaty neck, then watched as a flush of red spread from beneath his collar to behind his ears.
Wu Zhen rested her chin on her hand, waiting for the redness to fade before blowing another breath. She repeated this several times until Mei Zhuyu, unable to bear it any longer, tilted his head slightly in discomfort, causing Wu Zhen to chuckle softly.
The sun was strong and the weather was hot, but the reason Mei Zhuyu had sweated so much wasn’t because of these factors, but because of the person on his back. She was too close, her soft body completely leaning against him, making Mei Zhuyu feel nervous. He looked at the path beneath his feet, but his mind was in chaos, thinking about how many people said Wu Zhen was more like a man, but when she quietly curled up and nestled against something like this, she was still softer than anything else, like a light and delicate flower.
It made his heart flutter.
Before they reached the bottom of the mountain, they saw a woman selling tea, carrying water buckets on a shoulder pole near some stone steps on a flat area. These women usually lived nearby, brewing sweet soups and teas at home, and then carrying them up the mountain to sell to thirsty visitors enjoying the scenery.
But this woman was different because she was a yaoguai, a supernatural being registered in the ledger of the East-West Demon Market. The yaoguai from the Demon Market lived among ordinary people in various parts of the city during the day. The idle man at the street corner, the woman washing vegetables by the water canal, the children running in the streets, and even the exotic-looking dancing beauties in the Hu merchant caravans could all potentially be yaoguai.
As long as they didn’t cause trouble or harm people, Wu Zhen allowed them to live ordinary lives like this. Wu Zhen could sense the Demon Market’s aura on the woman, so she didn’t mind. The stout, plain-looking woman, as a member of the Demon Market, naturally recognized the Cat Lord. Encountering her on the road, she seemed a bit nervous and quickly wiped her hands before offering two bowls of sweet tea with red dates, dried osmanthus, and tangerine peel.
“The weather is hot. Would the lady and the young lord like some sweet tea to cool off?” she asked.
Mei Zhuyu could tell that the tea-selling woman was a cow spirit in disguise. Normally, he wouldn’t have paid much attention, but this woman’s eagerness made him unsure of her intentions. Recalling past experiences, he instinctively felt something was amiss, especially with Wu Zhen present. He naturally had to be careful. So after thanking her, he took one bowl of tea and drank a sip. Upon finding nothing wrong with the sweet tea, Mei Zhuyu exchanged the bowl he had drunk from with the untouched one in Wu Zhen’s hand.
“This one is sweeter. It’s for you,” he said.
Wu Zhen exchanged bowls with him, thinking how thoughtful the young lord was.
Mei Zhuyu then took a sip from the newly exchanged bowl of sweet tea. Hmm, this one was fine too. It seemed he had been overly cautious.
The cow spirit woman, wringing her hands nearby, thought to herself: I’ve heard that the Cat Lord is to have a husband, and it seems this is the young lord. They appear so intimate, it’s truly enviable. However, why do I feel that this young lord’s gaze is so sharp, it’s somewhat frightening.