Did they really make a move against Qing’er?

The Next Day—
Chen Xueli awoke from her hangover with a splitting headache, slowly sitting up and clutching her head—the alcohol’s effects lingered.

“Hiss—”
Her mind was foggy; she instinctively glanced outside. Unlike yesterday’s clear skies, today was overcast with gentle breezes.

“So I got drunk first?”

The empty space beside her and the absence of Su Wanqing in the room confirmed it.

Though her memory blacked out completely from the night before, she deduced she collapsed first.

If Su Wanqing had succumbed, she wouldn’t have let her leave.

Of course, getting Master drunk was never a serious hope.

Last night was pure jealousy—wanting to share a drink.

Su Wanqing’s tolerance was exaggeratedly a thousand times hers; no practice would ever match it.

“…”
Staring at the tidied table, Chen Xueli tried recalling fragments—nothing.
She… probably didn’t do anything?

Probably…

Unease crept in.

Normally, a few cups knocked her out.

But two years of secret training—if she misjudged…

“!”
She flung off the blanket—no bloodstains. Temporary relief.

“Hm?”

The motion revealed unfamiliar clothes—not yesterday’s, not hers at all.

Spotting her actual outfit on the nightstand—soaked.

The current attire—style and color—suited Su Wanqing’s simple elegance, oversized and loose.

Peering down, she saw exposed half-moons.

“Hm?!”

Staring at the snow-white cleavage, Chen Xueli blanked.

Her… dudou?!
Not just that—everything beneath was gone. Full set of undergarments missing!

She was… vacuum underneath…
Did something really happen?

Ominous dread flooded her. Before, just uncertainty; now anxiety.
Hopefully overthinking—not fact.

Else, massive loss—madam and soldiers both gone.
No memory, and relationship ruined forever.

Chen Xueli avoided taking Su Wanqing’s body because crossing that line ended bottom-line erosion.
Knife-mouth, tofu-heart Master wouldn’t mind much otherwise—quenching thirst while conquering heart.

But ruthless one-step? Irreparable.

Plan: body secondary, heart primary.
Even confession day—if Su Wanqing begged, she’d only scare, not act.

“Sigh—”
Worry compounded her foggy head.
As she pondered, a cool voice from the door:

“Hm? Awake?”

“Mas… Master…?”
Following the voice, Chen Xueli saw Su Wanqing entering with items.

Today’s outfit: feminine gauze dress—not yesterday’s neutral.
Style and color still simple, yet captivating.

Low ponytail—rare—softened maturity, blending big-sister and maiden.
Like an unmarried flower-season girl—fresh yet reassuringly mature.

“…”
Roles reversed from days ago.
Seeing Master return, Chen Xueli’s eyes filled with disbelief.

“You… didn’t leave?”

“Left, but came back.”
Su Wanqing nodded, then shook—a double meaning.

To Chen Xueli: left, returned morning.

Truth: worried over unconscious drunk, couldn’t stay away.

Softening bred trouble—she knew, hypnotized herself to harden, yet returned.

After wiping Chen Xueli, recovery took ages.

If memory-erasure possible, she’d obliterate it.

Eyes closed, thick-folded towel—self-deception.

Still felt the excellent figure clearly.

“…”
Seeing Chen Xueli’s loose attire triggered flashbacks of dressing her.

Lower body fine—no contact; upper—accidental touches!
Hypnotized: nothing, maybe lumps—useless.

Not stupid—she knew.

Current clothes: her old ones from early discipleship—years unworn, perfect for the girl, no return needed.

Why not Chen Xueli’s? Storage artifacts owner-only; no spares—hers it was.

“…”
Su Wanqing set items on the table, sat—not too close, eyes averted, fiddling.
Daylight—even overcast—revealed more than night.

No major reaction from Master, yet Chen Xueli’s heart unsteady.
Situation begged misunderstanding. For peace, she hesitantly asked:

“Master, last night I…”

“Got drunk—not passed out, but crazed at me.”
Su Wanqing cut in before finish.

“Then my clothes… and us…”

“…”
Expected prompt answer—none.
She set aside tasks, lips pursed, gaze serious—like serious announcement.

“!”
Only then Chen Xueli noticed Master’s flush and unmistakable neck hickey.
Unnatural, heart racing, panicked uncertainty:

Damn! Why no memory—
Did she really touch Qing’er?