Translator: Misty Cloud  Editor: Misty Cloud

“You’re not changing your pants?” Feng Jiu asked with an eyebrow lifted.

Hearing those words and then seeing that pair of shining eyes staring lasciviously at him, the Hell’s Lord’s face darkened and he said: “Just the shirt will do.”

“Oh.” Feng Jiu exclaimed a little ruefully as her gaze glanced at the pants string briefly. [Just so close… So close…..]

Seeing that expression on her face, the Hell’s Lord’s mouth twitched, unable to make himself look at her any further and he turned his eyes away to look in another direction.

After changing out of his blood stained shirt, the Hell’s Lord finally laid back to rest and then ordered: “You go sleep in the outer room and I’ll call for you if I need anything.”

Feng Jiu glanced at him and asked: “You are not removing your mask?”

[This person seemed to have always worn his mask, even when he sleeps like he does not want her to be able to recognize him. Could it be that he was someone she knew?]

“Out.” The Hell’s Lord glanced at him, his voice cold and hard.

Seeing that, Feng Jiu shrugged her shoulders and did not say anything more as she walked to the front portion of the room to lie down upon the soft lounge. She closed her eyes but was unable to fall asleep as her mind thought about how she was going to escape. Before she ran away, should she pilfer some of those magical herbs and bring them with her?

The next morning, the Hell’s Lord awoke and walked to the front part of his room and saw the figure curled up upon the lounge. The black and green salve upon her face had almost dried up overnight and the surface layer had cracked a little but that person was still deep in sleep and snoring like a pig.

He raised a foot and nudged at her foot but she merely curled up tighter and mumbled: “Go play on the side. Don’t disturb me.”

An eyebrow arched up on the Hell’s Lord face, his deep gaze flashed with a dark glint. He stared at her and then went walking outside to the courtyard to order the guards to fetch water for him to wash up.

When it reached the Chen hour (between 7 to 9 am), Feng Jiu stirred and flipped herself over, forgetting that she was sleeping upon a narrow lounge. With that turn of her body, she fell with a crash onto the ground, the sound so loud that even the Hell’s Lord who was having her breakfast outside could hear it.

“Oww!”

She gasped in pain and rubbed at her arm as she stood up, her entire being fully awoken by the fall and she suddenly noticed that figure standing at the door who was looking rather amused at her where she then returned an angry stare at him.

“What are you looking at? Never seen anyone fallen to the ground before?”

“Pfft!”

Shadow One held back his laughter and nodded to say: “I really haven’t seen anyone who would sleep till they fall off their bed. Just how deeply asleep were you?”

Feng Jiu ignored him and then felt the medicinal salve on her face to check it. Finding that it had already dried up, she immediately said: “I’ll be making a move first.” Without waiting for a reply from Shadow One, she went striding out.

When she came to the courtyard outside, she saw the Hell’s Lord eating his breakfast and the steps that were carrying her out suddenly faltered when she saw the exquisite dishes upon his table. She then immediately shouted out to the guard outside: “Bring me another bowl and a pair of chopsticks!”

Thereafter, she quickly went to the back and rinsed out her mouth before coming to the table and sitting herself down.

“I am thinking you will not mind me eating with you.” She accepted the bowl and chopsticks that the guard brought in and then discourteously picked up a green coloured dumpling before she took a bite out of it.

Her eyes lit up and she then mumbled with food still in her mouth: “Mmm! The juice if the meat is still wrapped up in there! It’s so fragrant!”

Seeing her looking just like a gluttonous cat, like she had not eaten for the past few centuries, the Hell’s Lord slowed himself down and then ordered: “Get them to bring in another portion.”

That easy and highly nonchalant voice however caused Shadow One to quickly raise up his head in shock. Seeing his Lord not showing any disdain towards the youth who was seated and eating with him at the same table with that face plastered all over with medicine but had instead ordered for another portion to be brought in, Shadow One could not help but think a little about the situation.

His Lord had always shown dislike towards women but he was now showing such great concern to this youth. Could it be….. his Lord really has the broken sleeve habit?

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