52

After the meal, Su Zixuan squatted on the ground, carefully wiping away the food splattered in the cracks of the stones with a cloth between her fingers.

She had her back to Qingchen, her movements were very light, the cloth crumpled in her hands.

Qingchen sat leisurely in a wicker chair, his gaze fixed on Su Zixuan's back.

The woman wore a faded coarse cloth dress, patched at the back, which only accentuated her slender waist.

He had cultivated for several years, from the outer sect to Huangzhu Island, always maintaining a pure and abstinent mind, spending his time meditating and cultivating, never even considering taking a maidservant.

But seeing Su Zixuan's nervous appearance during the meal, he inexplicably felt a different kind of longing.

When the old town head brought her here the other day, he had noticed that the woman had delicate features, but out of consideration for his status as a cultivator, he hadn't shown it.

“Hmm, you go ahead and wait for me by the wooden tub in the meditation room.”

Qingchen’s voice suddenly rang out, slightly hoarse.

He forced down his agitation and said as calmly as possible, “I’m feeling a little unwell and tired; I need to tidy up for a while.”

Su Zixuan’s body visibly stiffened, then she quickly stood up, her hands clasped in front of her, trembling slightly:

“Yes, Your Majesty, I’ll go prepare right away.”

As she spoke, she turned and walked towards the meditation room, her steps extremely light, her skirt brushing against the stone floor without making a sound.

Qingchen watched her figure disappear through the doorway of the meditation room before slowly rising.

He touched the array plate in his robes, confirming that the array was undisturbed, before following her.

The meditation room was smaller than the outer room. In the corner stood a wooden tub about half a person’s height, its warm water emitting faint white steam and a faint, unidentified herbal fragrance.

These were some 'Tranquilizing Herbs' he'd casually bought back at the mountain gate, worthless in spirit stones, but enough to relieve some of the fatigue from cultivation when boiled in water.

Su Zixuan stood beside the wooden tub, her hands clenched tightly, her knuckles white.

She kept her head down, her long hair falling to her sides, obscuring most of her expression, only occasionally stealing a glance at the doorway out of the corner of her eye.

Seeing Qingchen enter, she quickly lowered her head even further, her cheeks flushed crimson, even her earlobes were pink, making her appear incredibly shy.

"What are you standing there for?"

Qingchen walked up to her, his voice devoid of emotion, yet carrying an undeniable air of authority, "Hurry up and help me undress."

Su Zixuan abruptly looked up, meeting Qingchen's eyes, her heart skipping a beat, and she hurriedly replied:

"Ah, yes...yes, Immortal Master." Her voice stammered slightly.

She hurried over, reached out, and clumsily began to undress Qingchen;

—This fabric was different from the coarse cloth she usually wore; it felt soft and slightly cool to the touch, like it was woven from some kind of animal hide.

Qingchen deliberately didn't move, letting Su Zixuan's fingers fumble around his sleeves.

Her movements were clumsy; when untying her belt, the rope wrapped around several times before she could untangle it.

Her fingertips occasionally brushed against his wrist, feeling a feather-like warmth.

Qingchen watched her nervously pursing her lips, a smile flashing in his eyes. This woman was genuine, unlike those who deliberately flattered, unable even to feign it.

"Take your time, don't rush, you're doing very well," Qingchen said, his tone softening.

Hearing this, Su Zixuan's movements became even gentler.

She carefully slipped her long robe off Qingchen's shoulders, revealing her white undergarment.

Her fingers paused noticeably when they touched Qingchen's arm, then quickly moved away.

Having finally removed both her outer and inner garments, she immediately lowered her head, her eyes fixed on the tips of her shoes, not daring to look any longer.

She had never been so close to a man in her life, let alone a celestial master.

She had never imagined that she would feel such strange emotions towards him.

Qingchen, oblivious to her embarrassment, walked to the wooden tub and stepped inside.

The warm water, reaching her waist and abdomen, carried the warmth of herbs, instantly dispelling the fatigue of the past few days of cultivation.

He leaned against the tub, closed his eyes, and softly said, "Get a towel."

Su Zixuan quickly picked up the towel placed beside the tub, walked to the tub, and carefully handed it to him.

Qingchen didn't take the towel, only raising his chin slightly: "Help me scrub my back."

Her hand trembled again, almost dropping it.

Su Zixuan quickly gripped it tightly, walked behind Qingchen, and gently placed the towel on his back.

Her pressure was light, yet she scrubbed meticulously, not even missing the crevices between his shoulder blades, her face burning hot.

Her hands roamed over Qingchen's muscles, bringing him a comfortable and relaxing feeling.

Qingchen enjoyed this rare relaxation, but his mind was far from idle.

He suddenly spoke: "Mayor Chen gifted so many maids to those immortals, do you think those maids were all taken away by the immortals?"

His tone carried a strange undertone.

Su Zixuan paused, her voice hesitant. "This servant...this servant doesn't know...but Master Chen said they were all taken away by the Immortal Master, and no one has been seen returning to the manor..."

"The sect has rules."

Qing Chen interrupted her, his tone turning colder. "Cultivators are not allowed to bring mortals back to the sect at will."

This was indeed true.

The sect's rules were strict; outer disciples were absolutely forbidden from bringing mortals into the sect. Only inner disciples enjoyed such privileges.

Su Zixuan's heart sank, and the towel in her hand almost slipped into the water.

Her voice trembled. "Ah, then...then why did Master Chen say they were all taken away?"

"Perhaps they weren't taken to the Immortal Sect." Qing Chen closed his eyes, his voice carrying a deeper meaning, "but rather disappeared in another sense."

"Disappeared...disappeared?"

Su Zixuan's voice instantly became shrill, and her movements completely stopped.

She jerked her head up, staring at Qingchen's retreating figure, her face pale. "Is...is...is she dead?"

Qingchen suddenly turned to Su Zixuan. "However, you are mine. I will take good care of you!"

"Ah!"

A surge of magical power pulled Su Zixuan into the tub!

......

As the saying goes:

The candlelight flickers, tender feelings linger, gentle words soothe the bewildered heart.

Qingchen's passion rises, her beauty cannot contain her long, beautiful dreams.

The tent is warm, the fragrance thick, spring is in full bloom, the wind is gentle, the moon hides the sweet scent of dreams.

Tonight, though there are a thousand fears, let us drink together in a drunken stupor.

......

Half an hour later, Su Zixuan's breathing was still uneven when Qingchen unexpectedly discovered that Su Zixuan possessed spiritual roots.

He had always harbored the idea of ​​building his own power, as a powerful tool for searching for rare resources and obtaining important information.

"From this day forward, you will be my maid."