Noticing Di Jiang’s gaze, Le Gui immediately put on a proper, reserved smile.

Di Jiang let out a soft chuckle and looked away, focusing on the performance again. Le Gui dropped her smile in an instant.

[…Forget it. He’s so powerful. I’d probably be torn to pieces before I could even get close to him.]

[Why did I have to end up in a fantasy novel? If this were a regular historical romance, all I’d have to do is tie him up while he’s sleeping, and he wouldn’t be able to break free.]

[His skin is so pale. If I tied him up tightly, wouldn’t red marks appear immediately? Tsk… His chest muscles are so defined, and his abs are so pronounced. The ropes would sink into the grooves of his muscles, rubbing his skin raw if he moved even a little. And if he panicked and struggled desperately, the friction would make him bleed in multiple places…]

Le Gui: “Heh…”

Right at that moment, the music and performances at the palace entrance came to an abrupt stop. Her not-so-quiet chuckle echoed through the grand hall, drawing everyone’s attention—including the man seated on the throne.

Clearing her throat, Le Gui quickly composed herself and spoke in a serious tone. “Your Lordship, I have something to report.”

“Speak,” Di Jiang said, his expression calm as if he hadn’t just heard her unholy thoughts.

Le Gui glanced at the surrounding people and hesitated. “This is not something appropriate to discuss in front of too many people.”

Di Jiang studied her for a moment before casting a glance toward the others in the hall. The crowd instantly straightened up, as if jolted awake, before hurriedly packing up their instruments and leaving…

Were they really just ‘shocked awake’? They were, right?

Le Gui had a strong feeling their retreat carried the same energy as employees who had just been granted an unexpected day off after three months without a break.

The once noisy hall quickly fell into silence. Di Jiang looked at the only person remaining and asked, “You can speak now?”

“Yes.” Le Gui nodded and cautiously checked her surroundings before stepping a little closer to him.

Intrigued by her rare display of caution, Di Jiang leaned forward slightly to match her movements.

“Your Lordship, I coughed up blood last night,” she said solemnly.

Di Jiang: “…”

He had expected nonsense but not this kind of nonsense. Watching her clear out an entire room just to deliver this absurd news was enough to make him laugh out of sheer disbelief.

Le Gui shivered at his reaction and quickly rubbed her arms. “Please don’t be angry, Your Lordship. This matter truly should not be made public. If word got out that someone under your protection was poisoned by the cultivators from the Immortal Sects, wouldn’t that damage your reputation?”

“Even if everyone in Wuyou Palace were slaughtered by the Immortal Sects today, no one would dare say I am weak,” Di Jiang stated flatly.

[Wow. You’re amazing. Do you want a round of applause?]

Le Gui’s face lit up with admiration, filled with what seemed to be deep respect and unwavering affection. “Your Lordship is absolutely right. It was ignorant of me to think otherwise.”

“You truly believe that?” Di Jiang asked.

“Of course.”

[No way. I got into university through real academic effort. My knowledge depth is far beyond yours, you uneducated brute.]

Di Jiang suddenly smiled.

Whenever he smiled for no apparent reason, Le Gui always felt uneasy. This time was no exception. She forced out a couple of chuckles before quickly getting to the point. “Your Lordship, I wish to serve you for a long, long time. Please, you must save me!”

“If you seek longevity, why not drink the Wanghuan Spring water?” Di Jiang asked in return.

“Oh!” Le Gui’s eyes lit up. “Drinking Wanghuan water for a day would preserve my body’s condition for that day. If I drink it every day, wouldn’t the Heartbinding Gu become useless against me?”

[I really don’t want to drink Juzi’s bathwater, but between that and dying from silk threads crushing my heart, the latter is way more disgusting!]

Le Gui eagerly awaited Di Jiang’s confirmation.

He gazed at her for a moment before answering mercilessly, “Your body would remain unharmed, but the poison would continue to deepen.”

Le Gui hesitated. “What do you mean?”

“It means your body will stay as it is now, but the pain caused by the poison spreading through your organs will not lessen.” Di Jiang smiled wickedly. “You’ll stay alive, but at the cost of eternal suffering.”

Le Gui: “…”

Silence.

Silence settled over them like the gentle waves of a tranquil river at dusk.

After a long pause, Le Gui forced a smile. “Is there… no other solution?”

“There is.”

She perked up immediately. “What is it?”

“Take the antidote.”

Le Gui: “…”

[If you keep spewing nonsense, I’ll make sure your next cup of instant noodles comes without a fork.]

“But the Heartbinding Gu contains over a hundred different poisonous plants and insects, and the order in which they were used can vary. This means the antidote also differs slightly each time. If you want to remove it completely, you’ll need the antidote from the one who poisoned you. You won’t be able to create it yourself,” Di Jiang explained with infuriating patience.

Just as expected, Le Gui clenched her teeth in frustration. “Then why didn’t you make her leave the antidote when you let her go yesterday?”

“The poison wasn’t in my body. Why should I concern myself with it?” Di Jiang spread his hands as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

His argument was flawless. It made her want to strangle him.

Le Gui fumed silently, mentally throwing punches at the air.

Satisfied with teasing her, Di Jiang turned to leave for his chambers. Before he could step away, Le Gui called out, “Your Lordship, where should I go to eat?”

She hadn’t dared ask earlier, but now that she was officially staying in Cangqiong Palace to ‘serve’ him, she figured she should at least have access to food and water. At the very least, the treatment shouldn’t be worse than when she was at Bi’an Terrace.

Di Jiang paused, glancing down at her. “Don’t you have fasting pills?”

“…That’s something Yaoyao gave me. It’s because I took them that my body started smelling more fragrant.” Le Gui tried to phrase it delicately.

Di Jiang’s eyelashes trembled slightly. “Then don’t waste them.”

[AHHHHHHH!!!]

Di Jiang’s smirk deepened as he pondered whether to torment her a little more.

Before he could, Le Gui suddenly spoke. “Your Lordship, your complexion looks a bit off. Are you feeling unwell?”

Di Jiang paused for a moment before continuing on his way.

“…A normal person would at least acknowledge being cared for, even if they didn’t say thank you,” Le Gui muttered under her breath. Just then, Di Jiang glanced back at her. She immediately switched to a fawning tone. “Goodbye, Your Lordship~”

Di Jiang left, and Le Gui let out a sigh of relief. In her distraction, she stepped on another pile of slime. She instantly thought, Oh no. Sure enough, a sharp, piercing singing voice rang in her ears.

Le Gui: “…”

[Why do these things only know how to sing that one annoying opera song? Isn’t one of them enough? Why keep so many?!]

As someone who was already close to death, Le Gui just wanted to lie down in peace. She had no interest in doing chores. But judging by the chaos around her, there was no way she would get any rest unless she cleaned up all this mess.

She stared at the grand hall for a long time before finally resigning herself to fate. Rolling up her sleeves, she started tidying things up one by one.

“Let go of me! Do you even know who I am? Do you know what my relationship is with my master? Ignorant brat, put me down immediately!”

“I don’t want to go into the box! Please, don’t lock me up! Can’t you just put me on the desk instead?”

“Young lady, you are quite beautiful. How about exchanging your eyes for this entire gold mine?”

A chorus of chaotic voices filled the hall, making Le Gui’s temples throb with frustration. By the time she had finally sorted everything, the sky had already turned completely dark.

It was just one hall, yet she had spent an entire day cleaning it!

Looking at the neatly arranged magical artifacts and bizarre creatures, she slumped to the ground, exhausted. “Did Di Jiang collect every single noisy and annoying thing in the world?”

“You little beast from the Hehuan Sect! You have humiliated me today, and I will not let this go!” the Seer Mirror hissed coldly.

Le Gui rolled her eyes. “I just placed you on the mirror stand. How is that humiliating?”

“Only dressing mirrors are placed on stands! I am a divine artifact! A divine artifact!” the Seer Mirror snapped.

Le Gui glanced at the mirror, which was now perfectly stable on the desk. After three seconds of silence, she asked, “A divine artifact that doesn’t even know what iOS is?”

The Seer Mirror froze, and its surface flickered again.

Le Gui scratched her nose, and just then, her stomach growled loudly.

She hadn’t eaten all day. Should she go find Juzi to mooch some food? She hesitated, glancing at the dark sky outside… Forget it. Better to go hungry than risk getting eaten by some strange creature halfway there.

Stretching lazily, she was about to curl up in a corner to sleep when a cautious voice came from outside the hall.

“Excuse me… Is Venerable Le Gui here?”

Le Gui paused and instinctively looked over. She saw an old man standing at the entrance, peering inside carefully. Their eyes met.

“Venerable Le Gui,” the old man greeted her with a fawning smile before stepping back slightly and bowing. “This disciple greets you.”

Le Gui jumped in shock and quickly waved her hands. “No, no, I’m not some ‘Venerable’… Wait, you look familiar. Have we met before?”

The old man chuckled awkwardly. “When you first arrived at Diyun Peak, you asked me a few things.”

…Now she remembered. That did happen.

Seeing how the once-arrogant old man was now acting so obsequious, Le Gui couldn’t help but feel wary. “What do you want?”

“It’s nothing major,” the old man said politely. “I am here on behalf of Nanle Manor to offer my congratulations. We wish to celebrate your entrance into Cangqiong Palace as a servant to His Lordship.”

As he spoke, he stepped aside, revealing six people behind him. At his signal, they stepped forward, each carrying a tray, but stopped just outside Cangqiong Palace.

“I heard that Venerable Le Gui enjoys apples, so I specially gathered some. But I feared you might grow tired of them, so I also prepared other delicacies. Please, accept these humble offerings.” The old man bowed respectfully.

Le Gui had been eating nothing but fruit for an entire month. Now, seeing the trays filled with an array of pastries and snacks, her eyes sparkled. Still, she cautiously declined.

“These were prepared just for you, Venerable Le Gui. Please, accept them,” the old man said urgently before dropping to his knees.

Having grown up in a modern society that opposed feudal traditions, Le Gui had no problem kneeling to others, but she could not accept an elderly man kneeling before her. Especially one this old.

She hurriedly gestured for him to rise but remained cautious enough not to step outside. “Get up, get up! Fine, I’ll accept them.”

“Thank you, Venerable Le Gui,” the old man said before signaling his attendants to set the trays down. Without another word, they all left.

Now, only the six trays remained at the entrance of the hall, standing starkly against the vast emptiness of the night.

Le Gui hesitated, glancing at the pitch-black darkness beyond the doorway. Should she bring them inside?

If she did, she worried that something lurking in the darkness might seize the opportunity to grab her and drag her away. But if she didn’t…

Her stomach grumbled again. She licked her dry lips, her craving for food growing stronger.

“You’ve really gone from a wild chicken to a phoenix now, huh?”

A mocking voice suddenly spoke behind her.

Le Gui turned around and saw the Seer Mirror displaying a reflection of a green ivy plant.

“You’re not lagging anymore?” she asked absentmindedly.

The Seer Mirror ignored her question, continuing its taunt. “You were just a powerless mortal with your spiritual roots completely ruined. Yet now, you’ve secured such an opportunity. What makes you think you deserve this?”

Le Gui stared at the mirror for a moment before speaking. “Can I ask you a question?”

The green ivy paused, then sounded pleased. “Go ahead, go ahead! I knew you had good taste.”

Having grown used to its unpredictable mood swings, Le Gui remained calm as she stepped closer. “I don’t have anything valuable except my own life. How about we change our method of trade?”

“No need. I just want your life,” the green ivy replied with unexpected honesty.

Le Gui: “…”

After a brief silence, the green ivy realized she had no intention of offering her life in exchange and sighed with disappointment. “Fine. How do you want to trade?”

“I’ll ask a question, and in return, I’ll tell you what iOS is,” Le Gui said, crossing her arms.

The green ivy sneered. “That’s not a trade at all.”

“Not interested?”

“Not interested!”

“Alright then, we’ll just stick to our old deal,” Le Gui said, pretending to compromise.

The green ivy instantly lit up with excitement, but before it could speak, Le Gui’s voice drifted over with a hint of amusement.

“But let’s be clear first. Once we make this deal, I only get to ask one question: ‘What is iOS?’”

The green ivy: “……”

After a long silence, it asked in disbelief, “Are you threatening me?”

“Who’s threatening you? You’re the Seer Mirror. Shouldn’t you know everything?” Le Gui countered.

The green ivy sucked in a sharp breath, clearly stunned by her shamelessness.

“What do you want to ask?” In a battle of shamelessness, the most brazen wins. The green ivy admitted defeat.

Le Gui blinked. “Is there any way to cure my Heartbinding Gu besides taking the antidote?”

Although she was more concerned about whether she could bring those trays of food inside, she still knew how to prioritize.

“…I thought you’d ask whether it was dangerous to take the food.” The green ivy sounded exasperated.

“There’s no way to completely remove it, but there is a method to suppress it for several hundred years without any symptoms.”

[I’m just a mortal. I’ll probably live for a few decades at most. Suppressing it for a few hundred years is basically the same as curing it, isn’t it?]

Le Gui’s eyes lit up. “What’s the method?”

“That’s a second question. Finish our first deal first, and then we’ll talk about the next one.” The green ivy crossed two leafy branches like arms on its hips.

Le Gui: “……”

[Damn it.]

“iOS is a type of mobile operating system,” Le Gui quickly answered.

The green ivy was suspicious. “What’s a mobile operating system?”

“That’s the second question,” Le Gui said, folding her arms.

The green ivy: “……”

The two locked eyes across the space, each feeling an immense dislike for the other.

“You do realize that even if I can’t judge whether your answer is correct, you can’t lie to me. If you lie, you’ll face eternal damnation.” The green ivy tried to intimidate her.

Le Gui sneered. “Since I’m still standing here just fine, that proves I didn’t lie. Admit it, you useless mirror. There are things in this world you don’t know.”

“Impossible! There’s nothing in this world I don’t know! And who are you calling a useless mirror?!” The green ivy raged.

Le Gui glanced at it strangely. “You can call me a little beast, but I can’t call you a useless mirror?”

“You’re useless! You’re useless! You’re useless!” The green ivy was so furious that it kept ramming itself against the mirror’s surface, as if trying to break out. The entire table shook violently.

Startled, Le Gui took a step back. “What—what kind of logic is that? You’re throwing a tantrum just because you lost the argument?”

“Come on! Ask me anything! See if there’s anything I don’t know!” The green ivy was in full hysteria now.

For the first time, Le Gui witnessed a… deranged plant. She swallowed nervously and pretended not to hear it.

After a while, the green ivy finally calmed down. Le Gui let out a quiet sigh of relief and turned to look at the trays of food still outside the hall.

Up in the massive osmanthus tree outside Cangqiong Palace, Di Jiang lounged against a branch in his crimson robes, idly watching the moon. Just as he was feeling bored, he noticed a figure sneak to the hall’s entrance and—swish—snatch a tray inside.

A moment later—swish—another tray vanished.

Di Jiang silently watched as she did this six times in total. Just as he was about to lean forward for a better look, a metallic taste suddenly rose in his throat. He lifted a hand and wiped the corner of his lips, revealing a smear of blood on his pale fingers.

“Tsk.”