A Slip of the Tongue

Lack of oxygen to the brain truly ruins things.

Trying to be clever only made it worse.

Yan Yi had now tasted the bitter consequence of speaking out of turn.

Seeing her frozen like a wooden chicken, with no intention of answering, Wen Xiaoran clearly had no plan to let her off.

He pressed his foot down slightly harder and said in a heavier tone, “Speak.”

Her fingertips tingled faintly.

Yan Yi tried to pull her hand free, but it was useless.

She truly had no strength to truss a chicken.

The great villain stood barefoot on the back of her hand.

A dull ache spread upward.

Racking her brain, Yan Yi finally opened her mouth.

“Your Excellency, I—I studied medicine under someone since childhood. I know a little about gu poison.”

“Oh? What a coincidence.”

Wen Xiaoran sounded half skeptical and pressed further.

“You mortal physicians understand gu poison as well?”

Yan Yi fell silent.

Were mortals considered inferior?

She could not help but complain inwardly.

Earlier, when someone had been clutching his head in agony, features twisted in pain, who was it that needed a mortal like her to blend calming incense to ease the headache?

Complaints aside, hearing the slight softening in his tone, Yan Yi began calculating how to fabricate a convincing lie.

“I—”

As she spoke again, her eyes reddened and her voice choked.

She sniffed and continued.

“The master who taught me medicine… when she was young, she was harmed by villains and afflicted with gu poison. When it flared up, her symptoms were just like—”

Before finishing, she burst into tears as if overwhelmed with grief.

Tears fell in rapid succession, pattering onto Wen Xiaoran’s smooth, pale foot and mixing with the remaining bathwater before flowing into the pool.

“Waa—wu—”

The poisoned master was fake.

The tears, however, were genuine.

Out of fear.

The original novel had never mentioned that the cannon-fodder golden canary had a medical master.

Aside from her childhood sweetheart cousin, she had only a tabby cat for company.

Survival came first.

The more Yan Yi cried, the more tragic the scene in her mind became, as though rehearsing a play she had just invented.

“Your Excellency, when your head hurts, you look exactly like my master when her gu poison acted up. I—I feel heartbroken seeing it.”

Wen Xiaoran frowned.

That strange, unfamiliar feeling stirred again within him.

Without a word, he withdrew his foot and walked behind the screen.

Yan Yi shook her numb wrist and let out a long breath.

She scrambled onto the shore of the bath.

Only then did she realize in shock that the great villain was not wearing clothes at all.

He was completely naked.

Had they just… seen each other bare?

Even in a male-oriented restricted-text background, wasn’t this progression far too fast?

Heat crept up her ears.

Her cheeks flushed red.

She blinked but did not look away.

Through the misty steam, she watched his blurred silhouette pass behind the screen and grow even more indistinct.

Yan Yi could not help sighing.

Though the villain in the book was dark, twisted, and ruthless, he was undeniably handsome.

She corrected herself inwardly.

Exceptionally handsome.

His face was like carved jade.

His eyes like bright stars.

Broad shoulders.

A narrow waist.

Long legs.

Smooth skin with a faint glow.

And most importantly—

His backside was round and firm, like rising hills.

The light in the bathhouse flickered dimly.

Behind the screen, his shadow seemed wrapped in gauze, hazy and suggestive.

Yan Yi nearly stared herself silly.

Realizing her focus had drifted, she coughed lightly and hurried forward.

From behind the screen she asked softly, “Your Excellency, may I leave now?”

No response came.

Taking silence as consent, she bent down to pick up her fallen shoe by the pool.

Without even putting it on, she fled in a fluster toward the door.

Her hand had just touched the lacquered wooden door when a chilling voice sounded behind her.

“Where are you going?”

Yan Yi stiffened.

She turned around awkwardly and asked timidly, “Your Excellency… do you have further instructions?”

Lust truly was a blade hanging over one’s head.

Yan Yi wanted to slap herself.

How dare she ogle the villain’s naked body?

Now she had missed her chance to escape.

Wen Xiaoran walked past her and sat beside the bath on a small table.

He tapped the edge lightly with his knuckles, signaling her to come over.

Yan Yi was still dripping wet.

Her black hair clung tightly to her back, water trailing from her skirt.

She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling uneasy.

“Your Excellency, I’m soaked. May I return to my room to change?”

Wen Xiaoran glanced at her pale face and dripping chin.

She looked lifeless.

He frowned unconsciously.

Tilting his head slightly, he said, “There are clean clothes behind the screen. Change first.”

It was clear she was not allowed to leave.

Yan Yi knew it well.

She shuffled reluctantly behind the screen, unwilling but forced by the villain’s authority.

After changing, she emerged like a snail, tying her sash with her head lowered.

Before she could take more than two steps, his impatient voice came.

“Come here and tell me how to eradicate gu poison.”

Her hands trembled.

The sash loosened again.

Yan Yi looked troubled as she stared at him.

She wore Wen Xiaoran’s clothes.

They hung loosely on her shoulders, oversized.

Though her face lacked color, she looked like delicate jade, pitiful and fragile.

Wen Xiaoran froze for a brief moment.

Then he looked away.

Yan Yi forced herself forward and sat opposite him.

Stammering, she told the truth.

“Your Excellency, I—I don’t know how to remove gu poison.”

“What did you say?”

He turned sharply, his expression darkening.

Yan Yi showed regret.

Twisting her collar, she said in a low sob, “My master did teach me the method, but I had barely begun learning when I was knocked unconscious, stuffed into a sack, and sent to Fuyu Mountain.”

Fuyu Mountain.

The territory of the demon clan.

The domain of the Demon Lord.

Wen Xiaoran’s expression grew serious.

His gaze sharpened.

Before today, he had no impression of this fragile mortal woman.

When had she appeared?

Who sent her?

For what purpose?

Instinctively, he suspected she was a spy planted by someone.

Then he scoffed softly.

She was only a mortal woman.

Weak.

Timid.

What waves could she possibly stir?

Seeing he did not respond, Yan Yi felt increasingly uncertain.

She stopped crying and continued gently, painting a hopeful picture.

“Your Excellency, though I learned only the basics, I can ease your headaches. In time, eradicating the gu poison may not be impossible.”

Eradicate it?

Easier said than done.

His ruthless father was a master of gu poison.

A mere mortal physician overestimating herself.

He never believed her claim about curing gu poison.

Yet she truly could relieve his headaches.

That puzzled him.

Who exactly was this mortal woman?

“Your Excellency?”

He looked up in response and met her dark eyes.

Clear and lively.

Yet when frightened, she lowered her brows meekly like a startled deer.

“What else?” he asked coldly.

She trembled.

The shoe in her hand fell again.

She bent to pick it up, but he stopped her with a gesture.

With a flick of his fingers, the wet shoe lifted from the ground and hovered beside her hand.

Startled and flattered, she clutched it tightly.

Summoning courage, she added, “Your Excellency, when you take medicinal baths in the future, lighting calming incense will enhance the effect.”

Wen Xiaoran looked at her knowingly and asked suddenly, “Is the calming incense your life-saving talisman?”

Her fingers turned white.

She lifted her head abruptly, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Your Excellency… what do you mean?”

Seemingly pleased by her reaction, he walked to the table and stood with his back to her.

“Come here. Apply medicine for me.”

Yan Yi hesitated but followed.

She picked up the ointment from the table.

Before she could speak, he tugged at the sash at his waist.

The bathrobe slipped off and pooled at his feet.

Her heart pounded wildly.

Was this something she was allowed to see?

She inhaled deeply and forced herself calm.

Thankfully, he was wearing trousers.

Otherwise she might suspect some unknown fetish.

“Why are you standing there?” he urged.

“Coming—coming.”

She opened the porcelain bottle and moved to apply the ointment, but he reminded her, “Warm it first.”

“Oh—”

The wound was long and deep.

Red and swollen at the edges.

Flesh torn open as though ripped by fangs rather than a blade.

After finishing the bandage, her gaze drifted over his pale back.

His skin was smooth and fine.

It likely felt pleasant to the touch.

Without thinking, she extended a finger and lightly brushed the skin near the wound.

Soft.

Supple.

The sensation was unexpectedly satisfying.

Her throat tightened.

She swallowed hard.

A strange, unfamiliar feeling sprouted in her chest.

Impulsive.

Almost like desire.

Boldness fueled by lust.

For a fleeting second, she imagined pressing him down beneath her, watching him flustered and stripped of his villainous composure.

Sensing something odd, Wen Xiaoran suddenly stood and turned to face her.

“What are you doing?”

Her fantasy shattered.

Desire smothered instantly.

Yan Yi snapped back to reality, cold sweat breaking out.

The newly changed clothes clung damply to her back.

She stepped back in panic.

“Your—Your Excellency, the wound… it’s infected.”

“I know,” he replied indifferently.

Then he leaned closer.

“What are you afraid of? I won’t eat you.”

Yan Yi fell silent.

I’m afraid I might eat you.

Realizing her slip, her palms turned slick with sweat.

If her hidden tendencies were exposed now, her grand plan would be ruined.

“Your Excellency—” she called softly, retreating weakly.

In her panic, she stepped on her long hem.

Her balance faltered.

With a startled cry, she fell forward directly into his arms.

Her face turned pale.

Breathing uneven.

Her clear eyes trembled as if frightened beyond measure.

Tears rolled down again.

She began to sob.