"I'm merely protecting the woman I love." Night Imperial Heaven's eyes held a tenderness that brushed against her icy heart like a gentle spring breeze.
But unfortunately, Ye Lanshan simply didn't believe that the Dark Lord would fall for her after just a few encounters.
She sighed inwardly. "That joke of yours, Dark Lord, isn't very funny."
"You've been lying down for days; you must be hungry. I had someone cook some congee. Come down and have some when you're ready." Night Imperial Heaven wasn't discouraged by her words, instead continuing to display a gentleness that shouldn't have belonged to him.
"Thank you for your trouble, Dark Lord." Ye Lanshan softened her tone for once, not arguing back—mostly because she was genuinely hungry.
"Plain congee?" She took a sip of the rice-scented porridge but couldn't bring herself to drink more. Honestly, she was quite picky; otherwise, she wouldn't have made such delicious food herself. This congee, though fragrant, was utterly tasteless, not even capturing the essence of the rice.
"What's wrong? Doesn't it taste good?" Night Imperial Heaven grew anxious when he saw her frown and set down the bowl after just one sip.
"It's bland and flavorless. I can't swallow it." Ye Lanshan wasn't being willful; the congee really was terrible.
"You've just recovered from a serious injury; spicy food isn't suitable. This congee, though bland, is good for your health. Come on, have a little more, be good." Night Imperial Heaven picked up the spoon again, scooping some congee and bringing it to her lips.
Am I a child? 'Be good'? Ye Lanshan found his coaxing tone ridiculous. No matter how he tried, she refused to take another bite.
"Your cultivation hasn't reached the point where you can go without food. If this continues, your body won't hold up. At least eat a little, no matter what." Night Imperial Heaven was at a loss.
Annoyed beyond measure, Ye Lanshan finally pursed her lips and said, "Call your cook here."
"Why call the cook?" It's true that in front of someone you love, people tend to act a bit foolish—Night Imperial Heaven was no exception.
Ye Lanshan gave him a helpless look. "I told you the congee is too bland. If you want me to drink it, the cook will have to make a new bowl. But I doubt it'll be any different, so I'll teach him how to cook it properly."
"Oh, alright. Shuanghong, go fetch Jia Xunshi." Night Imperial Heaven called out to Shuanghong, who stood outside the door, his voice far gentler than usual.
Though Shuanghong had already endured the torment of his tenderness, she still couldn't believe he could be so soft. She drifted off to the kitchen as if in a dream.
"Hey, Shuanghong, what are you doing here? Does the Dark Lord have orders?" Jia Xunshi had just stepped out of the kitchen to bask in the sun when he saw her floating over dreamily.
"Oh, yes, the Dark Lord wants you to come." Even on her way back, Shuanghong moved as if in a trance.
"What's happened to you? Don't tell me the woman the Dark Lord brought back this time is just like the others and made him angry?" It wasn't surprising Jia Xunshi thought that—everyone knew the Dark Lord wasn't interested in women.
Earlier, when the Dark Lord had anxiously carried Ye Lanshan back, it had already shocked them. They'd thought she might be special, but it seemed she was just like the rest.
Jia Xunshi grew dismissive. He'd worried that using the long-dampened rice for the congee would anger the Dark Lord, but if the woman ended up like the others—with her neck snapped and thrown out—there'd be no issue.
"No, it's worse than that." Shuanghong said slowly, turning to glare at him as if in warning.
"Has she been chopped into mincemeat? Does he want me to wrap it into buns for the dogs?" Jia Xunshi guessed boldly, since such things had happened before, years ago.
"No, go see for yourself. But I'm afraid you won't be able to handle it." Shuanghong deliberately kept the reason a secret, a small punishment for his poor congee-making.
Perhaps the Dark Lord, lost in love, hadn't noticed the congee's flaws. Ye Lanshan, new here, didn't know how delicious Jia Xunshi's cooking could be. But as the only maid by the Dark Lord's side, Shuanghong knew how sloppily he'd made that congee.
Can't handle it? Had the woman done something even more shameless, provoking the Dark Lord to a crueler fate than mincing? No matter how Jia Xunshi speculated, he never guessed the truth: the Dark Lord just wanted him to make another bowl of congee.
"Dark Lord, what are your orders? Steamed? Fried? Grilled? I think grilled is best." As soon as Shuanghong brought him in, Jia Xunshi pushed open the door and rattled off a string of suggestions.
"Huh? Do you only cook those methods?" Ye Lanshan looked at him in confusion, not understanding his meaning.
"Jia Xunshi, do you want to lose your skin? Get serious!" Night Imperial Heaven felt like kicking him. How could he say such things in front of Ye Lanshan? Didn't he know she could only eat light food now? Well, he hadn't understood Jia Xunshi's meaning either.
"Ah." Jia Xunshi stood awkwardly, watching the two of them in peace, unsure how to smooth things over.
Luckily, Ye Lanshan didn't let him stew for long.
"You made this congee, didn't you?" Her calm voice sent a chill down his spine.
"Yes, this humble cook did." He spoke respectfully, but Ye Lanshan knew it was only because of the Dark Lord's presence. She didn't care, though—she never planned to stay long.
"This congee isn't good. Make another bowl. Remember to wash the rice thoroughly, then crush it. When it's eighty percent cooked, add a spoonful of sugar." Ye Lanshan was genuinely hungry now and didn't have time to demand anything more elaborate.
"Huh?" Jia Xunshi stood frozen, stunned that the Dark Lord had called him over just because this woman disliked a bowl of congee.
"Get to it, now!" Night Imperial Heaven's icy glare sent Jia Xunshi scurrying into the kitchen.
"Do you know about the Guqin of Fuxi?" Ye Lanshan asked, her face pale but her tone feigning indifference.
Night Imperial Heaven paused, unsure where she was going with this.
"Once the Guqin of Fuxi chooses its master, it's bound for life—unless the master is killed. If the master dies, the guqin seals itself until it finds a new master it deems worthy. So I won't help you kill my brother. And even if you did, you'd never earn the guqin's recognition."