Liu Yichen gently pushed open the door, and the morning light filtered through the window, casting golden rays that draped the luxurious room like a delicate veil. He squinted slightly, adjusting to the bright light. The golden beams of sunlight seemed to weave a tapestry of light and shadow, illuminating the opulent furnishings and giving the room an ethereal glow.
Turning around, his gaze softened as it fell on Xun'er standing at the doorway. Her figure was bathed in the soft light, her delicate features framed by the gentle rays. His deep, magnetic voice resonated like an ancient bell in the quiet room, as if proclaiming a solemn promise. "Xun'er," he said, his tone carrying a weight of unspoken emotions.
Xun'er slowly lifted her head, and Liu Yichen noticed the complex emotions flickering in her eyes—like meteors and nebulae intertwining in the night sky, a mix of joy and faint disappointment. Her eyes widened slightly, but the usual brightness was now clouded with a hint of gloom. She seemed to be struggling with something, her lips trembling as if she wanted to speak but couldn't find the words.
She cautiously glanced toward the inner chamber. Liu Yichen's ears caught a faint sound, like a breeze brushing through flowers, and a subtle, unfamiliar fragrance lingered, reminiscent of orchids blooming in a distant valley. The scent was faint but unmistakable, and it stirred something in his memory, though he couldn't quite place it.
Xun'er lowered her head, her voice as soft as a mosquito's hum. "Young Master... Sister Lingyue..." Her words trailed off, leaving an unspoken question hanging in the air.
Liu Yichen keenly sensed the change in Xun'er's mood. A ripple stirred in his heart, but he said nothing. Instead, he reached out, his fingers gently threading through her silky hair. He gave her a light pat before turning and walking into the inner chamber. The softness of her hair lingered on his fingertips, a reminder of her presence even as he moved away.
The bed was empty, the covers disheveled, as if a storm had passed through. The sheets were tangled, and the pillows were askew, a stark contrast to the neatness of the rest of the room. Liu Yichen frowned, his brows knitting together like two squirming worms. A wave of displeasure washed over him, and he felt a tightening in his chest.
"Lingyue?" he called out, his voice echoing in the room but met with silence. The stillness hung heavy like a thick curtain, pressing down on him. He waited, but there was no response, only the faint sound of his own breathing.
After a moment, Diao Lingyue emerged from behind the screen. Her eyes were downcast, her long lashes casting faint shadows on her cheeks. Her delicate face bore a trace of aloofness, a stark contrast to her allure from the previous night. She looked like a flower that had been touched by frost before fully blooming, her beauty still evident but tinged with a coldness that hadn't been there before.
Her eyes were dull, like a lifeless pond, devoid of the spark that had once animated them. She stood there, her posture stiff, as if bracing herself for what was to come.
Liu Yichen's patience wore thin. He sat up abruptly, the bed creaking under his weight. His eyes widened, blazing with anger as he spoke without restraint, "Lingyue, come here. Continue warming the bed." His voice was as cold as ice, and he pointed directly at her, his finger like a dagger aimed at her heart.
Diao Lingyue trembled like a leaf in the wind. She lifted her head, her eyes filled with fear and resistance. Her pupils darted like a startled deer, and her lips parted slightly as if to protest. "Young Master, I am just a servant. Warming the bed is not my duty." Her voice was soft but firm, and she took a small step back, her hands clutching the fabric of her dress.
Liu Yichen's frown deepened, his brows twisting like braided rope. He stepped off the bed, his bare feet meeting the cold floor. He strode toward Diao Lingyue, his piercing gaze like unsheathed swords. His eyes were wide with anger and confusion, his cheeks puffing slightly as he spoke in a frosty tone, "Don't forget, I saved your life. You do as I say. Is warming the bed really so difficult for you?"
Diao Lingyue bit her lip, the slight pain grounding her. She remained silent, but the resistance in her eyes burned brighter, like a flame. Her hands clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She stood her ground, though her body trembled with the effort.
On the system panel, Diao Lingyue's loyalty plummeted from 80 percent the previous night to 60, and it continued to drop rapidly, like sand slipping through an hourglass. Liu Yichen's heart sank as he watched the numbers fall. He felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him, the chill spreading from his chest to his limbs.
Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair, the sound of his nails scraping against his scalp faintly audible. He couldn't understand what he had done wrong. Just last night, she had been obedient. How had she changed so quickly?
Anxious to salvage the situation, he felt everything slipping out of his control. "You..." Liu Yichen started to speak but suddenly felt a tingling numbness in his leg, as if countless ants were crawling over it.
"My leg feels a bit sore," he said, his expression shifting from frustration to one of slight pain. He rubbed his leg gently, his eyes flicking toward Diao Lingyue with a hint of expectation. "It must be from sleeping in an awkward position last night," he added, his tone softer now, almost pleading.
Diao Lingyue took the bait. She stepped forward, her eyes softening with concern. Her fingers lightly touched his leg, the coolness of her touch seeping through the fabric. "How does this feel, Young Master?" she asked gently, her voice like a spring breeze.
On the system panel, Diao Lingyue's loyalty slowly climbed back up, settling at 70 points. Liu Yichen's lips curled into a faint smile, a glint of triumph in his eyes. It seemed she responded better to gentleness than force.
He sighed contentedly, as if a dark cloud had been lifted from his heart. Casually, he asked, "Lingyue, what kind of man do you like?"
Diao Lingyue's hand paused, and a blush spread across her cheeks like the evening sky. She lowered her head, her ears turning red as she whispered, "I dare not hope for much. I only wish to find someone who truly cares for me."
Liu Yichen's heart stirred, and a bold idea formed in his mind. Seeing her shy demeanor, a sense of conquest surged within him, like a hunter spotting a captivating prey. He licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Perhaps winning her over would be more satisfying than simply having her warm his bed.
"Lingyue, look at me," Liu Yichen said softly, his voice like a babbling brook. He gently lifted her chin, his fingers brushing against her smooth, jade-like skin. Her eyes, clear as a spring, held a hint of confusion as she met his gaze.
Liu Yichen's heart raced as he leaned in, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. Her skin felt as soft as flower petals. "Rest well. I need to report to the sect," he said before turning to leave.
Diao Lingyue stood frozen, the warmth of his kiss lingering on her forehead like a small flame. She watched his retreating figure, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude, confusion, and a tinge of longing. The emotions swirled within her, leaving her unsure of what to feel.
After leaving the room, Liu Yichen stretched lazily, his body feeling as taut as a drawn bow. He headed to the sect in high spirits, only to be met with an unexpected assignment—working in the kitchen of the Bronze Alliance.
The man in charge, Mo Haohai, was a burly middle-aged man who stood like a mountain. He looked Liu Yichen up and down with a dismissive gaze. "So, you're Liu Yichen? From today, you'll be responsible for the Bronze Alliance's meals," he said, crossing his arms and looking down at Liu Yichen with disdain.
Liu Yichen was stunned. He hadn't expected to be assigned to kitchen duties as the young city lord. A wave of anger surged within him, his face flushing red. His eyes burned with indignation, but he forced himself to remain calm. "Is this the sect's arrangement?" he asked, his voice steady.
Mo Haohai sneered, his tone icy. "Got a problem? Newcomers in the Bronze Alliance start in the kitchen. If you're not happy, you can leave."
Liu Yichen clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. A deep sense of humiliation washed over him. He took a deep breath, struggling to control his emotions. "I understand," he said, turning toward the kitchen with heavy steps. Each step felt like a blow to his dignity, his heart filled with uncertainty and injustice.
As he walked away, a voice echoed in his mind...