The Mistaken Bath

Unexpectedly, Wen Xiaoran did not refuse.

He allowed Yan Yi to rest her fingers on his wrist, merely casting her a sidelong glance without betraying any emotion.

“My lord—do you often suffer from headaches?”

Yan Yi’s voice was soft, as if she were asking casually.

In truth, her lips had gone pale with tension, her heart pounding so hard it felt ready to burst from her chest.

The warmth of her fingertips pressed against the skin of his wrist, the sensation spreading upward.

Wen Xiaoran’s fingers curled slightly.

A strange, unfamiliar feeling suddenly rose within him.

His entire arm felt numb and tingling, yet he could distinctly sense the heat of her touch.

That discomfort spread to his heart.

He abruptly flung Yan Yi’s hand away, the gloom on his face deepening at a visible speed.

Seeing this, Wen Feng quickly spoke up.

“Miss, do not ask what you shouldn’t.”

Yan Yi’s heart sank.

Something was wrong.

Sure enough, haste made waste—she had tested him too far.

Without time to think, she dropped to her knees with a thud.

In her panic, she knocked into the chair behind her, which screeched loudly.

Her voice trembled as she begged.

“My lord, please forgive me.”

Wen Xiaoran suddenly rose to his feet.

Like a hawk locking onto its prey, his gaze fixed firmly on Yan Yi.

The warning in his glass-like eyes was unmistakable.

“Whether you are a gift or a spy.

If you wish to live, keep your hands to yourself.”

With those words, he flicked his sleeve and left.

Yan Yi remained kneeling on the ground, trembling as she retreated backward inch by inch.

Wen Feng hesitated, as if wanting to say something, then hurriedly followed Wen Xiaoran out.

Watching the two figures disappear from view, Yan Yi finally let out a long breath.

Her body went limp.

She collapsed backward onto the floor, utterly unable to move.

Recalling the warning Wen Xiaoran left behind, and his strange expression, Yan Yi slowly realized something was off.

The villain’s sudden anger hadn’t been because she dared to ask about his headaches—

But because she had touched his wrist?

Yan Yi was utterly perplexed.

He had clearly allowed her to take his pulse, yet suddenly changed his mind.

His mercurial temperament was impossible to read.

She couldn’t help suspecting there was something more to it.

Could it be that the villain disliked physical contact?

She had no idea how long she lay there before finally regaining some strength.

She fumbled her way up from the floor and followed her memory back to her quarters.

The moment she pushed the door open, a faint meowing sounded inside, tentative, as if testing who had entered.

Yan Yi suddenly remembered—

The book briefly mentioned that the cannon-fodder canary spent her days accompanied by a tabby cat named Xiao Li.

After the canary was tortured to death by the Demon Lord, the cat vanished without a trace.

Thinking of this, bitterness welled up in Yan Yi’s chest.

Afraid of frightening the cat, she stepped inside softly.

A calico cat was curled on the couch, staring at her with bright, curious eyes.

“Xiao Li.”

Yan Yi held out her hands.

The tabby leapt straight into her arms, rubbing its head affectionately against her chin.

The cat had heterochromatic eyes—

One golden, the other emerald green.

Like two brilliant gemstones set in its face, dazzlingly beautiful.

After bathing, Yan Yi changed into clean clothes.

She carefully applied a thick layer of ointment to the bruises on her neck.

Then she hugged Xiao Li and crawled into bed, focusing intently on planning her harvesting strategy.

No matter how she thought about it, Yan Yi had to face reality.

Given her current progress—and her negligible strength—

Getting close to the villain anytime soon was difficult enough.

Completing the harvesting task was pure fantasy.

The system hadn’t specified a time limit.

There were too many uncertainties.

The mission was daunting.

Yan Yi felt overwhelmed, suddenly sensing how slim her chances of returning home were.

In the original story, the Demon Lord murdered his father and brother, committed countless atrocities, and brought ruin to heaven and earth.

His ending, however, was satisfying—

He was torn to pieces by the canary’s childhood sweetheart and cousin, the original male lead.

His soul scattered completely, leaving no remains.

Thinking of this, Yan Yi straightened up immediately.

If she wanted to complete the harvesting task and return home intact—

To throw herself into her parents’ warm embrace—

The most urgent thing was to ensure the villain did not die before she succeeded.

That meant she could not allow the original male lead to follow the key plotline as written.

Yan Yi made a swift decision—

She would write a letter to the cousin, assuring him she was safe and needed no concern, to stall him for now.

After finishing the letter, Yan Yi took out a box of cinnabar and searched the room for a seal.

At that moment, Xiao Li suddenly let out a coquettish meow.

Yan Yi turned and saw the tabby raising a soft, pink paw, waving it as if declaring ownership.

A flash of understanding struck her.

Holding the cinnabar box, she walked to the long table and guided Xiao Li’s paw to press down.

This, surely, was a unique understanding between the cat and its owner.

Looking at the rosy red paw print stamped beneath the signature, Yan Yi nodded in satisfaction.

She folded the letter and slipped it into the tube, a relieved smile appearing on her face.

Though this body was as weak as her original one, at least it could use talismans.

Lighting a teleportation talisman, Yan Yi began to plan further.

Since calming incense could ease the villain’s headaches, stocking up on incense materials could only help.

The sky was still bright.

After settling Xiao Li, she followed her memory toward the herb storage.

Yan Yi didn’t consider herself directionally challenged.

Before transmigrating, she never needed to stare at navigation apps to reach her destination.

Yet now, she had to doubt herself.

She distinctly remembered a fierce stone lion standing before the herb storehouse.

Touching its right eye would automatically open the door.

Along the way, she passed more than ten rooms, each guarded by a stone lion.

They all looked nearly identical.

There was no way to tell which one she had visited before.

Yan Yi wiped the sticky sweat from her forehead.

Left with no choice, she began opening the doors one by one to check.

Apparently, the heavens of this world did not favor this outsider.

An entire hour passed.

Every room she opened held no herbs at all.

Exhausted and panting, Yan Yi stopped in front of another stone lion.

Her fingertips ached faintly.

Gritting her teeth, she jabbed forcefully at the lion’s right eye.

With a dull creak, the door swung open.

A wave of warm, humid air rushed toward her, mixed with a strong herbal scent.

Hard work paid off.

Yan Yi’s eyes welled with tears.

Overjoyed, she stepped inside lightly.

The further she went, the more something felt wrong.

The herb storage Wen Feng had taken her to earlier hadn’t been this warm or steamy.

Through the hazy white mist, Yan Yi caught sight of a familiar figure.

Her pupils shrank sharply.

Had she wandered into the villain’s bathhouse?

Wen Xiaoran was bare-chested.

His dark hair fell loosely over his shoulders.

He stood with his back to her, soaking in a medicinal pool.

Her heart rate skyrocketed.

Afraid he might think she was spying or peeping—

Either outcome would be unbearable—

Yan Yi’s hands and feet went cold as she retreated hastily.

After all, the villain already suspected her of being a spy.

She deliberately lightened her steps, carefully edging toward the door.

But her nerves betrayed her.

Her skirt brushed against a teacup on the side table by the pool.

With a crisp crash of shattering porcelain, Wen Xiaoran—wrapped in damp heat—loomed before her.

His hand clamped around her throat.

Her throat burned with pain.

Yan Yi closed her eyes in despair, nearly suffocating on the spot.

It took a long moment before she shakily found her voice.

“My—my lord!”

She knew the villain wouldn’t believe her.

Still, clinging to hope, she struggled violently, trying to pry his hand from her neck.

She spoke truthfully.

“I—I entered the wrong room.”

She cracked her eyes open slightly, cautiously gauging his reaction.

“Who sent you?”

His grip loosened somewhat.

His chilling voice brushed her ear.

Yan Yi trembled all over, her heart tightening.

“My lord, I needed herbs to prepare incense.

But the estate is too complex.

I got lost.”

Dead horse, live doctor—she explained futilely.

Wen Xiaoran didn’t believe her.

His scrutinizing gaze fixed on her.

“Lost?”

Yan Yi nodded frantically.

“Yes, yes.

I couldn’t find the herb storehouse.

I had no choice but to open every room to check.

My lord, I truly wasn’t trying to spy on your bath.

I don’t have that kind of interest.

I really entered the wrong room.”

Something she said triggered his fury.

His eyes hardened.

His expression darkened abruptly.

His grip tightened again.

Her neck burned.

Her throat felt torn apart.

Word by word, Wen Xiaoran demanded.

“Were you peeping at my bath.

Or gathering intelligence?”

It was over.

Neither.

Yan Yi was utterly speechless.

Her mind raced for a way out.

But oxygen deprivation blurred her vision.

Her ears rang.

She couldn’t think at all.

The villain had already decided she was a spy.

He gave her no chance to explain.

He was ready to execute her on the spot.

As her facial muscles began to twitch, blood vessels bursting in her eyes, her breathing growing frantic—

Wen Xiaoran suddenly released her.

His hawk-like gaze bore into her.

“Speak.”

Yan Yi gasped desperately, bending over as she coughed violently.

Dizziness washed over her.

She reached out for support, dazedly grabbing hold of Wen Xiaoran’s sleeve.

“My lord, I—”

She was truly terrified now.

Cold sweat poured down her back.

Still, she forced herself to try explaining.

In her panic, she burst into tears mid-sentence.

She couldn’t form complete words.

She could only look at him helplessly, tears streaming.

Wen Xiaoran gripped her shoulders tightly, lifting her whole body with one hand.

Their eyes met.

His voice was cold.

“Why are you crying?”

“My lord, I—I need herbs to prepare calming incense.

I couldn’t find the herb storehouse.”

She stubbornly stuck to her story.

In desperation, she blurted out—

“My lord, please don’t be angry.

Emotional instability will worsen the frequency of the love gu.

You—”

Before she could finish, the world spun.

Her body flew through the air.

With a splash, she landed in the pool.

He had thrown her straight into the bath.

What did this mean?

Yan Yi was baffled.

Fortunately, she had trained in swimming since childhood.

Aside from choking briefly upon entry, she swam to the edge by instinct.

She hurried to climb out—

Only for Wen Xiaoran to step on one of her hands.

“Don’t move.”

He didn’t apply much force, but his tone allowed no argument.

“How do you know I carry a love gu?”

Yan Yi’s breath caught.

Her heart leapt into her throat.

She wished she could travel back in time and poison herself into silence.