Chapter Sixteen: Be My Slave

The man in black seemed clearly surprised. He put away the dagger in his hand and released Feng Qiuji’s arm.

“Would you please bring me my clothes?” After soaking in the water for so long, Feng Qiuji felt as if she were about to swell up; she was desperate to get dressed.

With a wave of his right hand, a breeze stirred. The candle on the table flickered twice, then burned steadily and quietly, filling the room with light.

Feng Qiuji immediately sensed something was amiss. She glanced at her body submerged in the water, then at the man in black who stood beside her, looking somewhat stunned.

“What are you staring at…” she grumbled, a bit annoyed. Hadn’t she just saved him? Why wasn’t he leaving? Could he be a lecherous thief?

At that thought, Feng Qiuji was overcome with regret. She should have insisted on letting Yu Fan in earlier—perhaps she could have been saved. Now everyone had gone far away, and she was just a defenseless woman…

But before she could finish her thoughts, the man suddenly collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, as if struck down by some unseen force. At the same time, a heavy stench of blood filled the air. Feng Qiuji looked down in confusion, and what she saw nearly made her scream—thick, crimson blood was pooling on the floor. Instinctively, she turned to the man.

Blood was streaming from his chest, soaking his black nightwear.

No wonder he hadn’t tried to escape—he was gravely wounded!

Quickly slipping into her clothes, Feng Qiuji crouched down, troubled by the sight of the man lying there. What was she to do with this assassin? She didn’t know how to save him, but she couldn’t just toss him out either. If she reported the matter to the guards, she’d only implicate herself. Why did trouble always find her? After some thought, she decided it was best to save his life first and let him leave on his own—best for everyone involved.

Carefully, she removed his outer garment and found his body soaked in shocking amounts of blood. A long, gaping wound with the flesh turned outward revealed itself before her—likely inflicted during his earlier fight with the guards.

His physique was neither fat nor thin, slender with no excess flesh—surely an attractive man, she mused as she tugged off the black cloth covering his face. When she saw his features, she couldn’t help swallowing: his face was like sculpted jade, with a straight nose and delicate lips slightly parted—the very picture of a captivating rogue.

But she had no medicine. What was she to do?

Suddenly, she thought of Ling Shunuo, that little devil. Since she couldn’t go to Ling Zetian for hemostatic medicine, perhaps she could coerce the child into helping.

She searched for a long time, asking many people, before learning the boy was in the rear garden. Feng Qiuji hurried over, but when she saw what was happening there, she was so furious her stomach began to ache.

The little boy was chasing fireflies through the garden with Sakura Blossom, laughing and shouting gleefully as he ran—innocent and adorable. Sakura Blossom held his small hand, smiling like a blooming flower.

Feng Qiuji wanted to drag Ling Shunuo over and give him a good scolding. She hadn’t expected him to be so useless. In less than half a day, he’d been completely won over by someone else—how infuriating! He’d never smiled at her like that. Just like his father, truly exasperating!

She strode over, grabbed him by the collar, intending to reprimand him thoroughly, but with Sakura Blossom watching, she forced a smile instead. “Ano, what are you doing out here in the middle of the night when you should be asleep?”

“Nothing.” At the sight of Feng Qiuji, the boy’s innocent face immediately turned into a mask of coldness, seriousness, arrogance, and disdain.

“Then go back to bed. Didn’t an assassin break in tonight? If you stay out, a bad guy might snatch you away.” She tried to pull him along, but the boy plopped down stubbornly, arms crossed, refusing to budge like a little scoundrel.

Sakura Blossom, having watched for some time, finally interjected coolly, “If Ano doesn’t want to go back, why force him? He’s just a child—of course he likes pretty sisters…”

At these words, Feng Qiuji ground her teeth in frustration. What did she mean by that? Was she implying that Feng Qiuji was unattractive?

Fine. She’d endure it. This brat was so ungrateful—had he forgotten who nursed him when he was burning with fever and nearly lost his wits?

Forcing herself to smile, Feng Qiuji said, “Ano, I’m out of hemostatic medicine. You must have some, right? Please give me a little.”

He shot her a disdainful glance. “What do you need it for?”

“My hand wound opened up again,” she replied through gritted teeth, raising her bandaged hand. The more she dealt with him, the less she believed he was really only four years old.

Ano glanced at her, took a small porcelain bottle from his pocket, and tossed it to her. “Here, take it and go.”

Irritated by his arrogance, Feng Qiuji glared at Sakura Blossom, then stormed off. After a few steps, she looked back and saw Sakura Blossom lifting Ano into her arms, while the boy smiled sweetly and hugged her.

It was enough to drive her mad!

Ano watched Feng Qiuji stalk off in a huff, a faint smile curling at his lips. Sometimes, he really did enjoy teasing her. He’d assumed the assassin was after either Ling Zetian or Sakura Xuanyu, so he and Sakura Blossom were using themselves as bait. To his surprise, the assassin hadn’t appeared again after such a long time.

“Put me down,” Ano said coldly to Sakura Blossom. He didn’t like this woman—she dared to covet his royal father!

With the medicine in hand, Feng Qiuji stormed back to her quarters, intent on cursing Ling Shunuo in some dark corner. But out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the assassin still lying on the floor.

She nearly fainted from anger—she’d forgotten the real issue!

Quickly, she cleaned the man’s wound, applied the medicine, and bandaged him up. By the time she finished, it was impossibly late. Looking at the assassin sprawled on the floor, she couldn’t bring herself to leave him there. Even though it was June, the nights were still chilly. Besides, she couldn’t bear to let such a handsome man—an assassin, no less—sleep on the floor. She’d always admired assassins, imagining them as so elegant and free. With some effort, she dragged him onto the bed. When she was finally done, she wiped the sweat from her brow.

Now her bed was occupied. It seemed she’d have to spend the night on a chair.

In the dead of night.

Feng Qiuji, half asleep, suddenly felt a heavy pressure on her chest, as if a large stone was weighing her down, making it hard to breathe. She opened her sleepy eyes and, by the light of the candle, saw a round head resting on her chest. Startled, she woke up instantly and glanced around. Wait—wasn’t this her bed? When did she climb back into bed?

“You’re awake,” said the head, lifting to reveal the assassin she’d saved earlier.

“What are you doing?!” she cried, slapping him on the head. At this point, she didn’t care if he was handsome or gravely wounded; anyone who dared take advantage of her would get a beating first.

Holding his head, the devilishly handsome man sat up, looking aggrieved. “Why did you hit me?”

“Why were you lying on my chest?” Feng Qiuji sat up too, her eyes blazing. She’d saved him, and he repaid her by trying to take advantage?

“Because it’s soft and comfortable,” he replied with a suggestive smile, leaning closer and gently gripping her shoulder, his expression sultry. “Don’t you know? I’m the legendary Flower Thief.”

Smack! Another resounding slap. Feng Qiuji stretched out her dainty leg, and since he was already near the edge of the bed, she kicked him off. “You want to steal from me? Come back after training for another few decades!”

As she got off the bed, her gaze fell on a small figure in the corner. There, bound hand and foot like a dumpling, with wide, round eyes, was Ano. Feng Qiuji hurried over, pulled the gag from his mouth, and asked in surprise, “Ano, what are you doing here?”

“This brat snuck into your room in the middle of the night with bad intentions, so I caught him,” the handsome rogue said before Ano could answer, arms crossed as he stood behind Feng Qiuji.

Feng Qiuji quickly untied him, then picked him up and turned angrily to the man. “This is my son! You’re the one with bad intentions, sneaking around at night. Look, now that you’re awake, just get out.”

Seeing how she waved him off with such disdain, the devilish man’s expression turned pitiful. “But I’m the Flower Thief, I—”

“Go rob your own sister! Get out!” Feng Qiuji cut him off, shoving him to the door, giving him a swift kick, and slamming the door shut. She then carried Ano back to bed.

Ano sat cross-legged on the bed, arms folded, fixing her with a cold stare as she knelt before him, hands clasped in supplication.

“Ano, darling, please don’t tell your father about this, all right? Think of how good I am to you. Just keep this secret for me, please?” This kid was always making things difficult for her. If he told Ling Zetian about the assassin, she’d probably be killed for it! She’d better try to make peace—he was just a four-year-old, after all, easy enough to placate.

“No,” Ano said, turning away with a look of disdain.

“I’ll buy you some sweets!” He’s only four, surely easy to bribe…

“Do you think I’m three?” He was four, not three!

“No, no, no. Then I’ll take you on a spring outing.” After all, he was four… But did he act like a four-year-old at all? Feng Qiuji wanted to drag this insufferable brat over and give him a good thrashing. He needed to know she was a top student from the twenty-first century, not someone he could bully at will!

“Boring.”

“Then what do you want?” Feng Qiuji asked through gritted teeth, “What will it take for you to keep this to yourself?”

“Be my servant.”

—A side note: Ano is quite the proud little devil, isn’t he?