Chapter 88: Girl in the Bottle (Part 2): That Particularly Good Shang Shan

Her attention focused on a certain word, and Mu Qian Tan’s dazed sleepiness dissipated somewhat. She thought she had misheard and glanced over. The girl’s stray hairs were wet against her cheek, her black eyes reflecting Mu Qian Tan’s shadow, clear and innocent. She repeated, “Wash the back for me. I can’t reach.”

“You…” Mu Qian Tan extended a finger and pushed the girl’s forehead away. She lowered her voice. “Tired of living?”

Shang Shan reached to grab that hand. “But I really can’t wash it.”

Mu Qian Tan slapped her hand away. “Go find Tan Que.”

Shang Shan pointed at the girl on the floor. “She’s asleep.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Wake her up.”

“That’s not good.”

“It’ll save your life.”

After dawdling for a long while, unable to rouse the woman, Shang Shan had no choice but to try poking Tan Que.

The girl slept deeply, as if in a coma. After a few pokes, she thought it was a fly buzzing and waved her hand before rolling over, hugging Fur Flower even tighter as she sank deeper into her dreams. Seeing how sweetly she slept, Shang Shan couldn’t bear to disturb her anymore. She squatted nearby and looked over pitifully.

Mu Qian Tan propped her forehead, closed her eyes, and pretended not to see.

Footsteps quietly shuffled across the floor, drawing closer. The fresh scent of saponins drifted to her nose, and the girl’s voice was like the softest silk brushing her ear. “Master, just help me out. Cat Official will massage your legs.”

Her calf was lightly tapped, as if a kitten were stepping on it. Mu Qian Tan pressed her finger to her temple and rubbed without opening her eyes. Following her memory, she lifted her foot and stepped into the girl’s shoulder hollow.

Pressure came from her shoulder, and Shang Shan froze. A tingling itch crawled up her tailbone. She was often poked on the head by that woman and had developed the habit of grabbing back. This time, she did grab, and she truly caught the ankle—bony and slender.

Before she could speak, that foot suddenly pressed hard. Sharp pain shot through her shoulder, and she felt the world spin as she rolled backward several times, stopping only when she crashed into the chair where Hu Xinsu sat.

The wooden leg scraped sharply against the floor. Hu Xinsu gripped the table, his brush never pausing, focused to an alarming degree. Shang Shan rubbed her shoulder and shook her head. She circled around from the side and clung to the armrest of the chair beside Mu Qian Tan. “Master, Master, Master…”

She couldn’t be driven away or scolded away. Both ears were filled with “Master.” What a tough rubber dragon!

Mu Qian Tan opened her eyes and shoved her away with a slap. She stood and walked to Tan Que’s side, kicking the girl. The breathing from the person on the floor grew a bit heavier, but she didn’t move.

This was someone else’s room—how could she sleep so soundly…

With a sigh, Mu Qian Tan looked back. Shang Shan had also stood up and was undressing to show her back. “Just a little bit…”

Mu Qian Tan grabbed her collar and pulled the nearly slipping clothes back together. She glanced over Shang Shan’s shoulder at Hu Xinsu, who was focused on his painting and hadn’t turned to look. Retracting her gaze, Mu Qian Tan gritted her teeth. “Can’t you have a little shame?”

Shang Shan didn’t answer and just looked up at her. “Master, I think you’re a good person.”

“Shan Big Sis, you’re really sick.” Mu Qian Tan coldly cursed. She grabbed her ear to drag her out but remembered the man and woman alone in the same space wasn’t appropriate. She casually added a spiritual power barrier that repelled strangers around Tan Que before pulling the girl outside.

Though her ear was grabbed, Shang Shan still smiled radiantly. Paired with her colorful Dawn Robe, she followed like a flower butterfly, hopping along. She didn’t forget to say, “You’re not Little Sister Que. You’re older than me, so how can you call me Big Sis? Isn’t that wrong? How old are you this year? I guess…”

Mu Qian Tan had one big headache and two small ones. “Shut up.”

Li Biyuan had watched the whole thing and said weakly, ‘I always feel something’s off. Though you’re playing the male protagonist’s role now, in the original story, the female protagonist wasn’t like this in front of him at all. She barely acknowledged him in daily interactions, preferred going out to play on her own, and he had to chase after her desperately to make any progress. How did she turn into a fawning lackey with you…’

The last sentence ended: ‘Sister Tan, it’s your responsibility.’

Mu Qian Tan replied, ‘I admit, I’m too nice to her.’

Li Biyuan: ‘It’s not exactly that…’

Mu Qian Tan kicked the door open and entered the room before kicking it shut again. She dragged her weary body behind the screen. The bath bucket was still there, but after so long, it no longer steamed.

Shang Shan slipped from her grasp, flung off her clothes, and draped them over the chair back. She dove into the water like a fish, one hand on the bucket’s edge, the other gathering her hair. She pointed at the stool nearby. “There’s a towel there. I poured the color-removing one.”

Blue patches dotted the girl’s smooth back, mottled and uneven—likely from her failed attempt to scrub them off earlier. The rest of her skin was pristine, like a newborn baby’s.

Seeing this, Mu Qian Tan suddenly thought of her own little sister who hated baths. After dragging her to wash up, she always had this tender, fresh skin too. Children with fiery tempers who loved to roam everywhere seemed to share this trait.

Or maybe not. Perhaps it was just youth.

Past years were truly unforgettable. Some people were so young it made others envious.

Mu Qian Tan slowly exhaled and took the towel, sitting by the bucket. She said gravely, “Come here.”

Shang Shan clung to the bucket, hands not letting go, and shifted along the edge. “I’m just missing a little bit. I didn’t lie to you.”

“So much talk.” Like grabbing a chicken, Mu Qian Tan seized her and pressed the towel to the blue spot, scrubbing hard. Shang Shan immediately cried out, “Ah! Master! Master! Lighter!”

“You’re thick-skinned. Endure it.”

“Mm, mm, wuu wuu.”

The intense scrubbing quickly reddened her back, but she gradually got used to it. Her wet hair kept dripping down, afraid to hinder the help. Shang Shan quickly gathered her hair and tied it with the Red Satin. “That bald little sister is so cute. Should I shave my head too?”

Even with few works seen and characters known, Mu Qian Tan could sense how absurd this female protagonist was—liking to streak naked and wanting to shave her head. She said speechlessly, “You’re one in a millennium.”

“Right? Am I?” Shang Shan shook her head. “Am I your one in a millennium?”

Mu Qian Tan said, “You’re impressively weird.”

Shang Shan said, “Then do you want to shave your head?”

Mu Qian Tan countered, “Do you want to enjoy sixteen years of life?”

Shang Shan was about to speak when the suddenly heavier force made her shrink her neck and grimace, making strange noises. “Ouch… ouch… Am I molting?”

Mu Qian Tan snapped the towel on her shoulder. “Serves you right.”

“I don’t deserve it…” She muttered for a while, rubbing the paint still on her arms. “You dyed me.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Who started it?”

Shang Shan protested, “I just wanted to dye your hair a little, but you dyed my whole body.”

The blue patches vanished, revealing fair skin that turned pink. Mu Qian Tan’s voice was flat. “Whoever harbors ill intent first should be prepared to get counter-killed.”

“Hmph, I remember that line!”

The last bit of color disappeared, and she was finally that freshly hatched tender dragon again. Mu Qian Tan flung the towel onto her face and was about to leave. As her figure moved, the flickering candlelight triggered a deep memory—a question she had asked before without an answer. She said, “The question I asked you at the East-West Inn that day—you still haven’t answered me.”

Shang Shan was blowing bubbles underwater, her eyes peeking above the surface, bubbles gurgling. “What?”

“I said,” Mu Qian Tan lowered her gaze at her, “have you been putting too much energy into me lately?”

If it was truly the original male and female protagonists’ interactions as Li Biyuan described, Mu Qian Tan would be blissfully happy—occasionally handling things, free most of the time to do whatever. But now, the female protagonist had developed this way for some reason. Never mind the plot impact; these daily interruptions were truly annoying.

Before, a couple of scoldings sufficed and were tolerable. Now even bathing required her help. She didn’t want to be both master and mom to this girl.

Hearing the question, Shang Shan’s eyes darted up slyly. “I’ll tell you, but don’t get mad.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “I will get mad.”

Shang Shan ducked underwater. “Then I won’t say.”

Mu Qian Tan reached in, grabbed her neck, and hauled her out, pressing her against the bucket’s edge. Though silent, her icy glare said it all: Speak, or lose your life.

Shang Shan blinked and spoke. “That time, you were hit by the Immortal… upper…”

Mu Qian Tan frowned. “Speak normally.”

With her life still gripped, Shang Shan blurted out the knot that had troubled her for so long without pause. “That time at Cliff Mountain, you were hit by Feng Ling Immortal, then she eased your muscles and bones for you. I don’t know why I’ve kept thinking about it. Oh, and before at that Smoke Ghost Hall Master’s place, she hurt you too. I think I’m angry, but weirdly I kind of like it—no, not like, anyway I can’t figure out what that feeling is. Why is that?”

She spoke fast and chaotically, incoherently. Mu Qian Tan was lost in the fog but exhausted her patience before understanding. She distilled the core: “You want to hit me too, right?”

“Ah?” Shang Shan struggled, splashing water everywhere. “No no no, that’s not what I meant!”

Mu Qian Tan pinned her firmly. “It’s normal to want to hit me. I want to hit you too, you clueless idiot.”

“No, Master!”

Afraid the female protagonist would be done in, Li Biyuan hurriedly spoke. ‘Sister Tan, go easy! Maybe she’s been hit by you so much she’s excited at the thought of hitting you? Perhaps? Ah, don’t take it to heart. At least she won’t lie and say no? Let go, Sister Tan, this is really dangerous wuwuwu.’

The more she explained, the messier it got, with no response. Time was critical. Li Biyuan grasped a line from her nearly crashing brain to soothe her. ‘She might be in her rebel phase! Kids in puberty are rebellious—it’s normal, right?’

She thought this would at worst do nothing, but it poured oil on the fire. Mu Qian Tan’s face nearly darkened with black lines, anger making veins bulge on her hand, even trembling faintly.

Li Biyuan thought: Oh no, I hit a secret landmine… Sorry, female protagonist!

Seeing the woman’s eyes redden more, Shang Shan thought she was about to go berserk. But amid that unbreakable fury, she sensed a trace of sadness and softly called, “Master?”

Mu Qian Tan dunked her underwater. “Just enjoy your sixteen years!”

After the commotion behind the screen, water splashed everywhere, even dripping from the ceiling. Shang Shan coughed for a while before recovering. She climbed out, dried off with the towel, dressed, and grumbled, “I don’t know why you have so much anger every day. If you thought about happy things like me, your temper wouldn’t be so bad.”

Ignoring the complaints behind her, Mu Qian Tan had just finished the lesson and didn’t care about a couple words. She sat by the bed, undid her hair tie, weariness in her brows. “I’m not going later. Go by yourself. Wait for Hu Xinsu to finish painting, then you and Tan Que go out and find them.”

Shang Shan said, “Just the two of us? But this city is so big.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “Who else? You think I agreed to this mess?”

The search was indeed something Shang Shan had promised, and she wouldn’t regret it. But from this woman’s tone, she heard disapproval. Being denied felt bad, like going back to before. She fiddled with her hem, toes grinding the floor. “Did I do something wrong again?”

“I didn’t say you did,” Mu Qian Tan flicked to extinguish the candle. She smiled. “You’re so noble; who am I to judge? Get lost.”

The lights went out, no windows open, plunging the room into darkness. Shang Shan couldn’t see the woman’s face anymore and felt something extinguish in her heart too. At least the heat that had tormented her lately cooled. She muttered “okay” and pushed the door to leave.

Her footsteps faded very slowly, as if the walker hoped for a recall. Only after the door locked did she pause, then patter away quickly.

Busy until now, dawn was nearly breaking. Mu Qian Tan lacked the energy to stay up and her forehead throbbed. Whatever the main plot—sleep first.

She slipped into the bedding and lay there with her eyes open in the darkness. The weather was nearly summer, yet waves of chill washed over her one after another. A rusty, cold scent seeped from the quilts. She closed her eyes, sore from being open too long, as the stupid dragon’s words from earlier echoed in her mind: Think more about happy things, and you won’t have such a bad temper.

Happy things. Of course, she had to think about them.

But strangely, she couldn’t think of a single one.

She lay there for who knew how long until light finally seeped through the window cracks from the edge of the sky. Only then did heavy sleepiness rise from the depths of her dull, aching mind. Mu Qian Tan sank into the quilts, and familiar nightmares eagerly pulled back the curtains.

The tablecloth featured a white lace pattern of peonies, noble and elegant, pristine and pure. Even a single drop of oil would stand out glaringly, so it was always impeccably maintained and spotless. But now, several drops of red jam stained it.

Mu Qian Tan should have felt guilty for this bit of filth and her mistake, but there was something more important to say. “Can I not go? That school is really disgusting.”

Her mother wore a water-green cheongsam, poised as always, though the upper half of her face was shrouded in a mass of black mist—as if it were indistinct or simply forgotten. She sliced the beef on her plate with knife and fork, blood threads clinging stubbornly, without sparing Mu Qian Tan so much as a glance.

“Qian Tan, you’ve been really disobedient lately. Is it that rebellious phase?”

Mu Qian Tan’s heart gave a slight tremor as she gripped her fork tightly. “No, it’s not. I just want to discuss it with you. That place takes way too much time on socializing—it’s not a place for studying. And I…”

And I’m not smart—you all know that—but I’ve already tried my hardest, yet I still can’t catch up to those people who get top scores without even trying. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’m willing to work even harder. I just hope you’ll listen to me sometimes. I…

She couldn’t get any of those words out because her mother set down her knife and fork. The silver utensils scraped sharply against the porcelain plate. “You don’t want to go to the good school I picked for you, you’re always skipping banquets lately, and you don’t even wear the clothes I bought. What’s wrong with you?”

Mu Qian Tan hadn’t even opened her mouth when her mother continued. “Your natural endowments aren’t great to begin with. Your face isn’t particularly pretty, and your personality isn’t likable either. In a situation like this, you should be showing your face more, changing into more dresses to make up for your shortcomings. But when you run into problems, all you do is avoid them. Now that you’re older, you talk back to me. After all the upbringing I’ve given you, you’re still rebellious. Qian Tan, what’s wrong with you?”

The same question twice, every word a piercing stab. Mu Qian Tan’s face flushed red, as if she’d been slapped, leaving her utterly speechless.

She wanted to answer: because she was tired—so tired that she often couldn’t understand why she had to keep living like this.

It was an easy-to-gain-weight constitution, so she had to strictly control her diet—couldn’t eat anything even when hungry enough to feel dizzy. She wasn’t smart enough, so she had to put in double the effort, even memorizing vocabulary words during gatherings with so-called “friends.” Her face wasn’t stunningly beautiful, so she had to get up before dawn to do her makeup, so sleepy she could nod off while standing.

She couldn’t measure how far she’d gone just to catch up to others, but even so—even so! Why were there always more people who could casually step all over her head?

Where did those people get their luck from? On what basis were they born to enjoy everything so effortlessly?

How was she supposed to speak up? How could she phrase it to sound like a good child’s words? What more did she have to do to earn even a moment to breathe?

The red jam on the tablecloth was glaringly bright. She lifted her hazy, blurred gaze and saw her mother’s mouth opening and closing. “Qian Tan, we don’t need disobedient children. If you won’t obey, you should believe that we’ll have better options.”

The voice suddenly boomed, and Mu Qian Tan jolted awake from a tide of clammy cold.

Her heartbeat gradually settled back to normal. It must have been noon by now—the sunlight outside was intense, and music along with laughter seeped in through every crack, shattering into fragments before reassembling into a desolate chill that swayed unsteadily.

Under the daylight, the skin at her neck—thin as fine porcelain—was dotted with fine beads of sweat, quivering faintly with her somewhat labored breaths. Mu Qian Tan loosened her grip on the pillow and flipped over to lie flat.

An event from so long ago, and she still dreamed of it. Did people constantly dredge up the past as they aged? Though she was far from old.

Right—she wasn’t old, and she never would be. Once she shook off the System’s oversight, she’d go cultivate the hell out of immortality, live for centuries or millennia, and outlive everyone who ever looked down on her.

She rubbed the corner of her eye with the heel of her palm and tried to sit up for a meal when a knock sounded at the door. “Yao’e Immortal, are you awake?”

The voice was unmistakably Shang Shan’s, though deliberately distorted in an attempt to alter the tone. The stupid dragon clearly thought she’d nailed the imitation. Mu Qian Tan asked, “Who is it?”

The person outside replied, “It’s the waiter.”

“…” Mu Qian Tan got out of bed. “Is something wrong?”

The person outside thought she’d bought the ruse and sounded clearly delighted before hurriedly lowering her voice. “The guest you came with—that very good Shang Shan…”

She emphasized it again. “That particularly wonderful Shang Shan. She said you scolded her, and she’s upset now, so she doesn’t want to come call you. That’s why I have to remind you. Remember to eat, or you’ll get a stomachache.”