Chapter 110

Fu Li had prepared at least ten different kinds of liquor for this welcome banquet, while water was barely served in comparison. As soon as Mu Qian Tan entered the banquet hall, she noticed them. To avoid trouble, she first warned Shang Shan not to eat recklessly, especially not to touch the alcohol.

After saying that, feeling completely at ease, Mu Qian Tan picked a glass of wine from the selection that was still within her tolerance and paired it with a few pieces of beef. But after tasting it, she found the alcohol content a bit too high, so she set it aside without touching it again. Who could have imagined that this stupid dragon would drink most of it anyway? She had let her touch the alcohol after all!

Watching the girl’s entire face burn red, her eyes dazed and misty, Mu Qian Tan sensed trouble. Her initial idea of grabbing Qin He and running vanished in an instant. She turned her head and quickly said, “Qin He, watch her and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. I’m leaving first.”

Right now, she couldn’t handle this energetic girl. Let Qin He deal with the headache. The child had a sense of responsibility and surely wouldn’t let the stupid dragon do anything too outrageous or self-harmful.

She rattled off the words at top speed. Qin He didn’t even register that the order came from the woman she didn’t want to face and instinctively agreed, reaching out to support Shang Shan. “Shan Shan, are you okay?”

Shang Shan let her cup her cheeks, blinking dazedly. “Qin He.”

“You drank alcohol. Are you dizzy? Let’s go back…”

Seizing the chance, Mu Qian Tan slipped away at light speed. But before she could leave the high platform of the banquet hall, her leg felt heavy. A scalding heat made her hiss. Looking down, she saw Shang Shan clinging tightly to her calf, kneeling on the ground and shouting, “Don’t go, Master!”

Her shout was deafeningly loud, disrupting the musicians’ rhythm. They glanced over repeatedly, their playing growing more erratic. Afraid of being held accountable by Fu Li, they simply stopped. With the music cut off, the dancers below naturally halted too, standing awkwardly in place. The serving maids saw the esteemed guest invited by their mistress about to leave the table with a terrible expression and assumed something had gone wrong, so they froze as well.

Now, everyone fell silent, all eyes turning to the platform in unison. The dense stares made Mu Qian Tan dizzy. Anger surged within her; she wanted to execute Shang Shan on the spot.

Qin He hadn’t even finished her sentence. Staring at her empty hands, she was shocked by Mu Qian Tan’s speed—it was like lightning, impossible to catch.

Fu Li noticed the commotion and broke the silence. “Where is Yao’e Immortal headed?”

Mu Qian Tan tried to pull her leg free, but Shang Shan held on with iron strength, as if terrified she would fly away. Mu Qian Tan hissed under her breath, “Let go.” Raising her head, she replied, “I felt a bit carsick on the way here and haven’t rested well. Now that I’ve eaten, I plan to go back and rest.”

At her words, Fu Li was reminded too and hurriedly asked the woman beside her, “Immortal, are you tired? Do you want to retire early?”

Jiang Zhouyao’s soul, which had floated out amid the extravagant splendor, finally returned to her body. She replied politely, “I’m fine.”

She had barely touched the food in front of her. Fu Li assumed she was too tired to eat and immediately grew restless, calling down instructions. “Escort the two Immortals to the sleeping palace. Everyone else, disperse.”

The musicians and performers bowed and flowed out like water. Piles of gleaming golden plates still stacked the tables, most of the expensive dishes untouched. With the banquet starting abruptly and ending just as abruptly, given Fu the young family head’s style, these would probably be thrown out directly.

But Mu Qian Tan had no mood to blame anyone for wasting food. She just wanted to pry this furnace-like dragon off her—beating and scolding did nothing. Shang Shan relied on her brute strength to hold tight, unyielding like a twisted-shut bottle cap.

Meanwhile, the Fu Jiang duo approached from their seats and paused. Jiang Zhouyao asked, “Does Yao’e Immortal need help?”

Fu Li stood to the side, hands behind her back, eyes full of amusement as she watched. Feng Ling Immortal was already entangled herself but still thought to care for her—truly resilient. Mu Qian Tan’s gaze swept between them. “No need. You two head back first.”

“Send some sobriety soup over. Once she’s sober, escort the Immortals to the palace to rest.” After instructing the maids, Fu Li turned with a smile. “You all handle things here. I’ll take Feng Ling Immortal and go first.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Mm. Qin He, you go with them too.”

Jiang Zhouyao nodded in acknowledgment, glancing back at the stunned Qin He. The two followed Fu Li away. Faintly, Mu Qian Tan heard Jiang Zhouyao asking, “Will that food be thrown out?”

“Immortal needn’t worry. Nothing will be wasted—we’ll feed it all to the spirit beasts.”

Once they were far enough that they couldn’t see, Mu Qian Tan unleashed her fury. She bent down, twisted the girl’s ear, and growled viciously, “Let go of me.”

The alcohol rushed to Shang Shan’s head, her face red as a tomato. Even as her ear was nearly torn off, she refused to let go, yelling, “No!”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Do you want to die?”

Shang Shan shouted, “I won’t let go!”

Mu Qian Tan twisted both ears with her hands until her fingers went numb, but the stupid dragon still wouldn’t release her. The pain only made her cling tighter, even wrapping her legs around too. She had dug in her heels completely.

Her calves felt clamped by two iron vices, blood flow nearly cut off. Mu Qian Tan furrowed her brows tightly, slowly bending backward to sit. She kicked at her with her other foot but couldn’t dislodge her. One hand pushed against the girl’s forehead. “I’ll count to three. If you don’t let go, you’ll face the consequences. Three, two, hey!”

Hearing the threat, the girl scrunched her face in dissatisfaction and directly bit down on her thigh. Mu Qian Tan jolted in shock. Seeing those pearly whites beneath red lips, she reflexively slapped her. The crisp smack echoed through every corner of the banquet hall. Shang Shan turned her face aside, blood trickling from her lip.

A few snowflakes drifted down. Shang Shan stuck out her tongue, licking away the red at her lip corner. Suddenly, she tightened her arms and legs even more, as if to strangle. Mu Qian Tan had been staring blankly at the blood when the surge of force made her grunt.

Hearing her voice, Shang Shan immediately let go and buried her head in her leg, kissing chaotically. “Sorry.”

Mu Qian Tan got goosebumps and backhanded her again, kicking her away. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Shang Shan tumbled backward off the platform. Luckily, soft beast rugs lay below, and with her thick skin, she wasn’t hurt at all. After lying there a moment, she crawled back up the steps, head down, mumbling, “I was afraid you’d leave.”

Blood rushed back into her legs, bringing pins-and-needles pain. Mu Qian Tan propped herself on the table to stand, tapping her toes on the floor. “Are you sick? When did I say I was leaving?”

Her cheeks were both swollen, but against her flushed face, it wasn’t noticeable. Shang Shan’s voice grew smaller. “I felt like you were going to leave.”

Just then, a maid brought sobriety soup. Seeing the tense atmosphere between them, she didn’t dare approach. Mu Qian Tan’s emotions still churned. She strode over, snatched the bowl, and splashed it in the girl’s face. “Snap out of it.”

Soup dripped down steadily. Shang Shan, drenched, wiped her face with her sleeve and lifted her alcohol-hazed eyes. “Master.”

Mu Qian Tan tossed the bowl aside and turned coldly to the maid. “Lead the way.”

The rooms Fu Li prepared for them weren’t far from the banquet hall. They arrived soon. The room was spacious, with painted ceilings, striped wallpaper, a four-poster bed big enough for four to roll around in, and an elegant blue carpet embroidered with gold threads. The entire room matched the outside decor—ostentatiously luxurious to the point of overflowing.

The maid led them to the door, mentioned that they could ring the bedside bell if needed, and bowed away. Mu Qian Tan entered, sat on the bed’s edge, took off her boots, and rolled up her pant leg. Her straight, slender calf bore several red marks, stark against her snowy skin.

She yanked the storage pouch from her waist and tossed it on the bed, pulling out some invigorating essential oil. She poured some into her palm, rubbed it warm, and applied it to her calf. Eyes lowered, she silently massaged the injury, pushing away the bruises.

Shang Shan sneaked in from the door and stood by the bed like she was being punished. Seeing the red marks on the woman’s leg, she clutched her sleeve. “Sorry.”

Mu Qian Tan didn’t look at her. “Scram.”

Like a deflated balloon, Shang Shan plopped to the floor. “Master.”

Mu Qian Tan lowered her pant leg and tossed the oil back into the storage pouch. “Sober now?”

The red on her face hadn’t faded—in fact, it deepened, her eyes slightly bloodshot. She wasn’t clear-headed. Her mouth said sorry, but her gaze wandered unfocused—she was still deep in her cups. Mu Qian Tan snorted coldly and ignored her, going off to wash up.

Snow still fell outside, but heat circulated under the floor, so even thin clothes wouldn’t chill her. She emerged in loose sleepwear, hair down, and saw the girl hugging her knees on the floor by the bed head, staring blankly at the storage pouch.

“Go back to your own room.”

She had noticed earlier that there was more than one room here—each person had their own. Mu Qian Tan was blunt. “Don’t cling to mine.”

Shang Shan buried her face in her knees, neither answering nor moving.

Mu Qian Tan said, “Fine, I’ll go to yours then.”

She hadn’t even moved, just said it, but Shang Shan scrambled up in panic. Seeing she wasn’t leaving, she relaxed but stood there cluelessly.

If she remembered right, the last time they drank was in East City. She had gotten dead drunk too, and they ended up burning it off with laps around the city. Mu Qian Tan sincerely suggested, “Go run a few laps outside. With your protagonist halo, you might even have some fortuitous encounter and pick up something good.”

She climbed onto the bed from the other side, propped a pillow under her waist, leaned against the headboard, and flipped through a book to build up sleepiness. The bed was so huge that Shang Shan felt they were too far apart. She hurried around the entire bed to sit beside the woman.

“…” Mu Qian Tan said, “What exactly do you want?”

Shang Shan said, “I want to watch you.”

Watch she did—her big eyes fixed unblinkingly. Mu Qian Tan felt like she was being stared down by an owl. She closed the book. “I don’t like being watched while I sleep. Get out.”

Shang Shan said, “I’ll keep watch over you.”

Mu Qian Tan said flatly, “I’m neither dying nor injured. I don’t need bedside company.”

Shang Shan insisted stubbornly, “I’ll just watch you. I won’t do anything.”

“Or what? What else do you want to do?” Mu Qian Tan’s head throbbed faintly. Impatiently, she said, “Use some common sense. Don’t bother me. I’m going to sleep.”

But the drunkard heard not a word, her gaze drifting to the bulge at the foot of the blanket. “Is your leg okay?”

Mu Qian Tan said, “It could kick ten of you no problem.”

Shang Shan deflated. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to hold you so you couldn’t move. I don’t say it usually, but I’m really scared you’ll run off someday and abandon me. I feel like you would ditch me easily. My feelings are always spot on. Last time you told me about that stuff, Kui Shui and all, it felt like dying words. I was happy you talked to me a lot, but I didn’t want to hear…”

At first, it made sense, but later it devolved into a jumbled mess, her drunken brain spitting out disjointed words. Mu Qian Tan thought silently: Wasn’t she supposed to get hyper when drunk? Why wasn’t she running laps like last time—instead, her energy went to yapping? Hearing a key phrase, she spoke up. “Dying words? Who are you cursing?”

“I said the wrong thing again. I’ll eat my words—pretend I didn’t say it.” Shang Shan patted her mouth as if shoving the words back in and swallowing. Then she said, “I had a nightmare a few days ago. You ignored me and threw me away. I woke up scared, but saw you right beside me and relaxed. Nightmares really suck.”

Mu Qian Tan had thought she’d elaborate on how much they sucked, but instead she asked, “Do you have nightmares often? Are they always that bad?”

The ink on the cover blurred. Mu Qian Tan put the book back in the pouch and lifted the blanket to lie down. “Don’t know.”

“When I wake from nightmares and see you, I feel safe. What about you?” Shang Shan scooted closer, gripping the bed edge. “Do you feel safe seeing me?”

Mu Qian Tan just showed her the back of her head. “Seeing you annoys me.”

Silence fell by the bed.

The snow grew heavier. Through the window, swirling snowflakes were visible. She could imagine the bleak white outside, that well rope tightening around her neck bit by bit, a familiar dread and discomfort surging from deep within at the sight of heavy snow.

She took a few deep breaths and sank into the warm blanket.

Time and place were different. Here, it was safe, at least.

The girl behind her suddenly asked, “Master, can I help you?”

The question seemed out of nowhere but struck like a blade. Mu Qian Tan understood the underlying meaning and even suspected she was faking drunk. Glancing back, she still looked dumb. After a pause, she lay back down. “Just stay quiet—that’s help enough.”

Shang Shan covered her mouth, but sound still leaked out. “I feel so hot. It’s hard not to talk.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “You say you want to help, but you won’t, huh.”

Shang Shan hurried, “I will.”

Snowflakes gradually formed patches behind the window, each piece connected to the next, yet every one clear. Mu Qian Tan watched for a while before closing her eyes, racking her brain for a way to make her shut up: “You’re willing? Fine. If you have to say it, then say…”

“What to say?”

“Say ‘I’m willing’ ten thousand times.”

“Okay, you’re willing, you…”

“I mean you.”

“I’m willing.”

“Shh, don’t say it out loud. Say it quietly in your heart.”

Silence fell by the bedside once more.

After a long while with no sound from her, hazy drowsiness welled up. Mu Qian Tan was already weighed down by exhaustion and pent-up fatigue. Baked by the warmth inside the quilt, she soon sank into sleep—and unusually, without nightmares—sleeping straight through until broad daylight.

When she woke, the patterns on the ceiling fluttered and overlapped. Mu Qian Tan felt refreshed, and her body felt remarkably light, far more comfortable than the day before.

Filtered white daylight sprinkled across the quilt, diluting the room’s overnight stuffiness into comfortably warm air. She lay there collecting her thoughts for a moment before sitting up. Something stirred faintly in the corner of her vision. She whipped her head around and saw Shang Shan leaning against the bedhead, her head bobbing up and down as she teetered on the edge of sleep.

Having slept so well, Mu Qian Tan was in a rare good mood: “If you’re going to sleep, then sleep properly. What’s that bobbing?”

Shang Shan’s head suddenly drooped hard, nearly toppling her over. She grabbed the bed edge, jolted awake. The flush faded from her face, leaving faint dark circles under her eyes.

She gazed dazedly at the woman on the bed, buried her face in the quilt for a deep breath, then lifted her head with a smile: “One last time. I’m willing.”

Mu Qian Tan had clearly forgotten the exchange before sleep: “Willing what?”

“I don’t remember either.” Shang Shan blinked hard, her mind foggy with sleep, but her mouth ran on: “Whatever it is, I’m willing.”

Mu Qian Tan said: “Still not sober from the wine?”

Shang Shan started to open her mouth again, but her eyes slid shut. Her body toppled backward, and she started snoring loudly. Mu Qian Tan threw back the quilt and prodded her belly with a toe. The strong sense of déjà vu suddenly brought back memories of last year’s Civil and Martial Trials at the proctoring station, when she’d used this stupid dragon’s belly to warm her feet.

She pressed her toe down a little, feeling a body heat far warmer than her own—perfect for warming feet on a cold day. Mu Qian Tan sat on the edge of the bed and planted both feet there, like resting them on an automatic electric blanket. She asked: “You always go on about a promise worth a thousand gold. Last time you said you’d plant an epiphyllum flower for me. Did you?”

Pinned under her feet, Shang Shan stirred vaguely awake but didn’t catch what she said. She lifted her clothes to wrap around the pair of somewhat rude feet on her belly, then fell asleep again.