The Mansion of Northern Isles and a Sweet Surprise

“Are we there yet?”

Feiluo’s gaze followed An Yaozhen’s pointing finger, and as her eyes registered the building, she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth in astonishment.

It was a Western-style mansion, an architectural marvel she had only ever encountered within the pages of comics from the Northern Isles, its distinctive Northern Isles flair unmistakable. Features such as intricate and opulent carvings, sharply pointed spires, and a prominent clock tower adorning its roof—each detail perfectly aligned with the residences typically depicted for Northern Isles nobility in those very comics.

“Well, what do you think? Isn’t it magnificent? I specifically commissioned an architect from the Northern Isles, paying them a handsome sum for this design!” Standing proudly before the mansion, An Yaozhen spread her arms wide as if to embrace the sun, declaring with a triumphant air, “You won’t find this architectural style often in our region, I assure you!”

“But I recall seeing numerous buildings with a similar aesthetic back in Luoxi City,” Feiluo mused, a hint of confusion in her tone.

“That’s simply because they all plagiarized my design!” An Yaozhen retorted, throwing up her hands. “Given how stunning my house is, it’s only natural for others to admire it and wish to construct something comparable, wouldn’t you agree?”

With that, An Yaozhen strode forward, heading directly for the mansion’s grand entrance.

‘This one’s taste in style remains utterly unchanged,’ Moxi thought, gazing at the exquisite mansion, a faint sigh escaping her lips.

Upon hearing Moxi’s remark, Feiluo tried to suppress her curiosity, but it proved too strong. “Moxi, do you know An Yaozhen intimately?” she finally asked. Unbeknownst to Feiluo herself, her voice carried a distinct note of jealousy, much like a young wife interrogating her husband.

Moxi, however, did not miss it. Observing Feiluo’s lips, unconsciously pursed into a pout, Moxi let out a soft chuckle. “What’s this, my dear disciple? Are you feeling a touch of jealousy?”

“Je-je-jealous?! Who… who would ever be jealous of you!” Feiluo’s face flushed crimson in an instant as she stammered, “I… I’m not jealous of you! I… I’m merely curious! Yes, purely curious about your relationship, that’s all!”

Noticing Feiluo’s deeply flushed cheeks, Moxi decided against further teasing. Instead, she explained, “My relationship with her, I suppose, could be described as having once been adversaries. I made a point of understanding her preferences solely to use them against her. Thus, my sweet disciple, there’s absolutely no cause for jealousy.”

“Is that truly the case?” Feiluo asked, a hint of disbelief coloring her tone.

Observing the skeptical expression on Feiluo’s face, Moxi paused in thought before a mischievous smile played upon her lips. Extending both hands, she gently cupped Feiluo’s cheeks, drawing their gazes to meet.

Witnessing Feiluo’s adorable, bewildered expression, frozen by her sudden gesture, Moxi offered a faint smile. Then, her cherry-blossom pink lips descended, landing a soft kiss upon Feiluo’s forehead.

In that singular moment, time itself seemed to hold its breath.

Feiluo’s initial sensation was a soft, familiar touch upon her forehead. It felt as though she had encountered that gentle contact once before. This was Feiluo’s first conscious thought.

‘If only it had been a kiss upon the lips,’ she mused. This was Feiluo’s second, more audacious thought.

Subsequently, a torrent of thoughts, like a volcanic eruption, surged forth uncontrollably from her mind.

‘Did… did… did Master just kiss me?!’

‘Oh, the joy! My beloved Master kissed me!’

‘I want more! Another kiss, please!’

‘If only time could freeze in this very instant.’

‘Next time, I’ll be the one to kiss Master like this!’

‘Can we just fast-forward straight to our next kiss!’

…

An overwhelming deluge of thoughts cascaded from Feiluo’s mind, akin to an inexhaustible spring, leaving her little brain utterly incapable of processing them all. She resembled a kettle brought to a rolling boil, steam billowing from her head, her cheeks a vibrant crimson, her entire being plunged into a hazy state of ‘Who am I, where am I, what am I supposed to do?’

Moxi gently took Feiluo’s small hand, guiding her dazed, almost adorably silly self towards the mansion’s entrance.

An Yaozhen had been waiting there for some time. Upon seeing Moxi, and then Feiluo’s ‘steaming little phoenix’ appearance, she let out a low whistle. “Well, look at you,” An Yaozhen remarked, “like an old tree suddenly blossoming.”

An Yaozhen’s words, as always, carried a distinctly irksome quality. Moxi merely cast a fleeting glance at her, then, without a single word, pushed open the grand doors of the mansion and stepped inside. Observing Moxi’s lack of any particular reaction, An Yaozhen simply shrugged and followed her in.

The mansion’s interior decor perfectly mirrored its exterior style: a fireplace crackling with burning logs; ornate oil paintings adorning the walls; magnificent chandeliers suspended from the high ceilings—every element spoke of the distinctive Northern Isles aesthetic.

Moxi spared it only a cursory glance, her eyes not lingering. She guided Feiluo to a plush, genuine leather sofa, while An Yaozhen settled into the seat directly opposite them.

Just then, five maids emerged, each clad in a black dress, their legs elegantly sheathed in black stockings, aprons with ruffled edges tied at their waists, and decorative bows adorning their hair. They bowed respectfully to An Yaozhen, who acknowledged them with a slight nod.

An Yaozhen instructed, “Please prepare some tea, and a selection of pastries…” As she spoke, her gaze shifted to Moxi and Feiluo. “Is there any particular pastry you’d fancy?” she inquired. “My chef here is quite renowned for their exquisite confections.”

Moxi glanced at the still-disoriented Feiluo. “In that case,” she suggested, “two slices of strawberry cake would be delightful.”

An Yaozhen turned to the head maid, who, understanding her unspoken command, gave a knowing nod. She then subtly gestured to two of the other maids, who, grasping her meaning, bowed respectfully before departing to prepare the tea and pastries.

“I’ll go change my clothes now,” An Yaozhen announced, rising from her seat and heading towards her room upstairs. The head maid followed dutifully close behind.

The two remaining maids stayed in the living room, poised to assist Moxi should she require anything.

During the lull of waiting, Moxi observed the utterly blank Feiluo. She extended a slender, jade-like index finger and gently poked Feiluo’s cheek. A single poke elicited no response. Another poke, and still, nothing. Moxi seemed to be treating Feiluo’s cheek as an amusing plaything, finding immense delight in her little game.

Suddenly, a sweet aroma, mingled with the delicate fragrance of tea, drifted towards them, causing Feiluo’s exquisite nose to twitch ever so slightly. Coincidentally, at that precise moment, Moxi extended her index finger once more, aiming for Feiluo’s cheek.

Perhaps roused by the tantalizing scent of the dessert, and mistaking the approaching finger for an offering, Feiluo unexpectedly took Moxi’s extended index finger directly into her mouth.

“Eh?” Moxi froze for a brief instant, then felt her index finger enveloped by a soft, warm moistness.

Simultaneously, Feiluo’s restless little tongue began to ceaselessly caress and lick her finger. Her entire focus seemed to converge upon that single index finger, intensely amplifying every sensation that traveled back through it.

Moxi became acutely aware of a peculiar, ineffable sensation burgeoning deep within her core. Involuntarily, a rosy blush bloomed across Moxi’s cheeks, rendering them akin to perfectly ripe peaches, irresistibly tempting one to take a bite.

Yet, with the approaching footsteps of the maids bearing tea and pastries, she forcibly quelled the flush on her face, attempting to withdraw her finger from Feiluo’s mouth.

As if vaguely perceiving the object within her mouth attempting to escape, the still-dazed Feiluo instinctively sought to retain it, intensifying her suction.

An electric jolt, a deliciously tingling sensation, coursed from her index finger through Moxi’s entire body, ultimately converging deep within her heart. That peculiar, ineffable sensation in Moxi’s heart intensified even further.

She yearned to linger in that moment, but with the sound of approaching footsteps growing clearer, Moxi reluctantly exerted her strength, pulling her finger from Feiluo’s mouth. Though Feiluo’s muddled consciousness still wished to hold on, it proved no match for Moxi’s deliberate force.

With a soft ‘pop,’ Moxi’s index finger finally slipped free from Feiluo’s mouth. Simultaneously, a glistening, silvery thread stretched momentarily between Feiluo’s lips and Moxi’s finger.