Did You See It

Lin Qingyan: “...”

The clothes hanger let out another creak under the weight of two people, louder and longer than the one before.

The moon-white robe of the Heavenly Master’s residence slipped halfway off the hanger, hanging crookedly on the rod.

The thunder patterns on the collar sparkled in the sunlight, like a neglected child silently protesting.

...

The robe slipped off the hanger entirely at last.

It fell silently onto the carpet, piling into a moon-white heap like an unasked-for cloud.

Lin Qingyan leaned against the wall, her breathing rapid and disordered.

Her cheeks burned fiercely, the roots of her ears red as if about to bleed, her lips faintly swollen from being kissed, glistening with a moist sheen.

Her fingers still gripped Gu Chengyin’s lapels, clutching tightly, as if letting go would make her legs give way from weakness.

Gu Chengyin pressed his forehead against hers, his breathing also heavy, but far steadier than hers.

His palm rested against her waist, his thumb gently stroking between her ribs.

One stroke after another, like calming a cat with its fur standing on end.

“You...”

Lin Qingyan started, her voice hoarse, not sounding like her own.

“You...”

She thought for a long moment and couldn’t come up with a fitting word.

The corner of Gu Chengyin’s mouth lifted slightly.

“Hm?”

“You... damn fool!”

Lin Qingyan finally settled on that word, her tone seeming to grind her teeth, but her eyes were full of love.

Gu Chengyin chuckled softly.

He lowered his head and placed a kiss on the center of her brow.

“Little Aunt, we should be heading out.”

Lin Qingyan took a deep breath, pressing down all those chaotic emotions in her chest little by little.

She bent down to pick up the moon-white robe from the floor, shook it out once, and draped it over her shoulders.

This time, Gu Chengyin didn’t stop her.

Lin Qingyan fastened her belt, flicked her long hair out from under her collar, straightened the rumpled front of her robe, and raised a hand to smooth the stray strands of hair at her temples.

Her movements were quick and nimble, as if donning a suit of armor.

But her hands were still trembling slightly, not from the cold, but from the prolonged “battle” just now.

So long that her brain was still lagging from the lack of oxygen.

When she was done tidying up, Lin Qingyan turned around to face Gu Chengyin.

Her long hair fell over her shoulders, her brows and eyes clear and cold, her lips a vivid red.

Like a drawn sword, all sharp edges and biting chill.

But deep in Lin Qingyan’s eyes, there was a softness only Gu Chengyin could see.

“I’ll go first, then.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll handle that beast’s business.”

“I know.”

Lin Qingyan looked at Gu Chengyin for two breaths.

Then she stepped forward, rose on her tiptoes, and pecked his lips quickly.

The touch was fleeting, like a cat that had stolen a treat and slipped away before it could be caught.

Then she turned and strode toward the door.

Her steps were steady and composed, her robe billowing in the wind like a flag unfurled.

The door closed behind her.

Gu Chengyin stood still, watching the closed door, silent for a moment.

His fingers rose, touching his own lips.

The warmth of Lin Qingyan lingered there, tender and soft, carrying a faint, elusive cool fragrance.

He lowered his hand and walked toward the door as well.

It was indeed time to get down to business.

When Gu Chengyin emerged from the side hall, the sunlight had turned into the light of full day.

Bright and blinding, illuminating the entire Crown Prince’s residence down to every detail.

The lanterns under the eaves had long gone out, leaving only a row of empty stands swaying gently in the wind.

In the distance, palace attendants were sweeping the courtyard, the sound of brooms brushing against the bluestone slabs faintly drifting over.

Gu Chengyin didn’t head to the main hall but went straight to the garden behind it.

He had now thoroughly gotten to know Gu Xiaoli’s daily routine.

The bloodline of a cat demon required daily refinement with the essence of moonlight. Although there was no moonlight during the day,

the garden had a century-old locust tree, its shade thick and its spiritual energy abundant—it was her ideal place for cultivation.

After finishing her practice, she would go to the main hall to find Luo Zhao, and then see what happened next.

Sometimes she would serve as Luo Zhao’s lady-in-waiting, handling some administrative tasks; other times, she would go to the Ten Thousand Scrolls Tower to read.

Gu Chengyin passed the side corridor of the main hall, rounding a thicket of emerald bamboo, and saw the ancient locust tree.

The tree was enormous, its canopy like an umbrella, covering almost half the garden beneath its dense, lush shade.

Sunlight leaked through the gaps in the leaves, sprinkling patches of golden light on the ground.

Gu Xiaoli sat cross-legged under the locust tree, her eyes slightly closed, hands folded on her knees.

Her palms faced upward, her posture looking impressive enough.

If it weren’t for the trace of oil stain still clinging to the corner of her mouth.

Gu Chengyin’s gaze landed on that oil stain and paused for a moment.

A cat demon’s cultivation required the essence of moonlight. Practicing during the day was already far less effective.

And if she had snacked before her practice, the effect probably dropped by half again.

He stepped forward, his footsteps neither too light nor too heavy, just enough for Gu Xiaoli to hear.

A cat demon’s hearing was extremely sharp—even in the middle of cultivation, any sound—wind or breeze—within her surroundings couldn’t escape her ears.

Sure enough, when Gu Chengyin was still five paces from the locust tree, Gu Xiaoli’s ears twitched.

Not human ears, but cat ears.

Two fuzzy, triangular little ears popped out from her hair bun.

They turned toward Gu Chengyin’s direction, as if confirming the newcomer’s identity.

Then Gu Xiaoli opened her eyes.

For a fleeting moment, her pupils were vertical, thin as a crack.

But when she recognized that it was Gu Chengyin, her pupils slowly widened

into large, round shapes, like two polished crystal beads.

“Brother!”

Gu Xiaoli leaped up from the ground, as fast as a yellow flash of lightning.

A big grin broke across her face, her eyes curving into crescent moons.

The sesame seed at the corner of her mouth bounced up and down with her smile.

“What brings you here?”

Gu Chengyin looked at her, a smile spreading across his lips.

“Just passing by. I saw you cultivating here, so I came to check on you.”

Gu Xiaoli blinked. Those round, sparkling cat eyes flickered with a trace of confusion.

But she didn’t press further.

Gu Xiaoli’s greatest strength—and also her greatest weakness—was that she didn’t like to overthink things.

When Luo Zhao encountered something puzzling, she would mull it over until she worked through every detail.

When Gu Xiaoli encountered something puzzling, she just... didn’t dwell on it.

Unless the matter was extremely urgent and very important,

only then would she put her clever little brain to work.

“Oh.”

Gu Xiaoli nodded, her smile blooming once more.

“Brother, do you want to sit down? It’s really cool under this locust tree. I come here to cultivate every day.”

Gu Chengyin looked at her adorable expression and couldn’t help saying,

“Sure. And while I’m at it, I have something to ask you.”

“What does brother want to ask Xiaoli?”

“Just—did you see something this morning?”