Luo Zhao’s eyes widened even further.
She understood the meaning of those words perfectly.
In this context, “clean up” did not mean clean up in the literal sense.
It referred to something she had experienced before—something that made her face flush and her heart race whenever she thought about it.
Clean what?
How was she supposed to clean it?
With what part of her?
Those questions did not need to be asked, because Luo Zhao already knew the answers.
She knew every detail, every step, and every possible consequence.
It was as if two forces were fighting inside her mind.
One voice said, You are the heir apparent. Why would you do something like this?
The other said, He is your master. What are you being coy about?
The two forces fought fiercely, neither willing to yield.
They churned her thoughts into a tangled mess, muddled and impossible to sort out or sever.
At the same time, Luo Zhao knew that she had no choice.
Because she was the most obedient Good Doggy.
That was the label she had given herself, the role she had assigned herself.
A Good Doggy did not refuse its master’s orders. A Good Doggy did not ask why.
A Good Doggy simply lowered its head obediently and did whatever its master told it to do.
Luo Zhao slowly lowered the hand covering her cheek.
She moved so slowly that it seemed as though she were making a decision that required immense courage.
Her fingers slid down her cheek, revealing her nose first, then her lips.
Then her chin, and finally those eyes, red as if they might bleed.
Her hand came to rest on her knee, where she clasped both hands together. Her knuckles turned white, and her fingertips trembled faintly.
Her entire body was taut, like a string drawn so tight it might snap at any moment.
At last, Luo Zhao slowly lowered her head.
Her chin nearly touched her chest, and the loose strands of hair falling over her forehead hid her eyes.
Only the red tip of her nose and her tightly pressed lips remained visible.
The room fell silent for several breaths.
During those few moments, the room was so quiet that they could hear the faint crackle of the candle flame.
They could hear Lin Qingyan and Shangguan Yunying breathing evenly.
They could hear Luo Zhao’s own heart pounding wildly inside her chest.
Thump, thump, thump, thump—beating so fast it seemed ready to leap straight out of her throat.
Then Luo Zhao spoke.
Her voice was so soft it seemed to turn in circles inside her throat. It held hesitation, struggle, and a trace of unease.
“Master…”
Gu Chengyin looked down. From his angle, all he could see was Luo Zhao’s lowered head, the tips of her ears tinged red,
and her trembling hands clasped together on her knees.
“What is it?”
Luo Zhao tightened her fingers even more.
Her fingernails left several pale marks at the base of her thumb. They soon turned red as blood rushed back into the area, standing out sharply against her fair skin.
Her lips moved, then pressed together again, as though she were struggling with herself, as though she were building up the courage for the hardest thing she had ever had to say.
Then Luo Zhao spoke again.
Her voice was still quiet, but this time each word was pronounced with perfect clarity—as if she were using all her strength to force each humiliating word out of her throat one by one.
“There’s… some of Auntie’s and Yunying’s… on top…”
Her voice trembled when she said “on top.” It nearly broke when she said “Auntie,” and by the time she said “Yunying,” it had dwindled to little more than a breath.
At that moment, her face turned scarlet—so red it looked as though it might burn.
It was as if something beneath her skin were aflame, the fire piercing through her flesh and blooming across her face as an exquisitely seductive flower.
The meaning of her words was perfectly clear.
Luo Zhao was worried.
She was worried that when she lowered her head to clean up, her face might come into contact with the traces Lin Qingyan and Shangguan Yunying had left behind.
Those traces had been left there when Gu Chengyin had dealt with them moments earlier.
If she were to clean herself, her face would touch those things, her lips would touch them, and even the tip of her tongue would touch them.
Just imagining the scene was enough to make Luo Zhao feel as though her mind were about to explode.
Gu Chengyin looked down at Luo Zhao, the corners of his lips lifting into the faintest of smiles.
There was no mockery in it, nor any teasing.
Only the helplessness, tenderness, and slight ache one felt when looking at a little dog desperately trying to please its master, yet repeatedly making mistakes because it was too nervous.
Gu Chengyin reached out and gently lifted Luo Zhao’s chin.
His fingers were long and cool, resting against the curve of her jaw. The chill passed through her skin and into her nerve endings, making her whole body tense instinctively for a moment.
Her chin was forced upward. Her face tilted back. Her eyes were made to meet his.
Gu Chengyin’s eyes were deep and bright, like two bottomless ancient wells.
Reflected in them were her flushed face, her moist eyes, and the nervous anticipation written across her expression.
He looked at Luo Zhao and spoke in a gentle voice, so gentle it sounded as though he were speaking to a pet of his own.
“That’s why you need to clean it thoroughly.”
Tears welled up in Luo Zhao’s eyes at once.
They were not tears of grievance, nor tears of fear.
They were tears that came because something had struck the deepest part of her heart, leaving her unable to hold them back.
Her eyes reddened. A tear trembled on her lashes before rolling down.
It traced a glistening trail along her cheek.
She choked back a sob and lowered her head again.
This time, Luo Zhao moved a little faster than before.
It was not because she was any less nervous, but because she did not want to keep Gu Chengyin waiting.
A Good Doggy could not make its master wait. That was a rule she had set for herself.
Luo Zhao drew a deep breath and began to clean.
The moment her lips touched the skin, the sensation made her entire body tremble.
A thought flashed through her mind: There really were traces of Auntie and Yunying up there.
But Luo Zhao did not stop.
Because she was the most obedient Good Doggy.
Because she was carrying out the task her master had given her.
The candle flame flickered, casting wavering shadows across the wall.
On the bed, Lin Qingyan and Shangguan Yunying were still unconscious.
Their bodies were curled up, their faces carrying the contentment of those who had finally been able to rest peacefully after a storm.
Their breathing mingled together, even and steady, like a wordless harmony echoing softly through the silence.
And beside the bed, seated in a chair, Luo Zhao kept her head lowered as she earnestly fulfilled her duty as a Good Doggy.
She cleaned with meticulous care, with an almost devout gentleness.
It was like watching a believer offer up a daily prayer—focused, absorbed, and utterly undistracted.
Gu Chengyin, meanwhile, enjoyed having Great Luo’s most exalted goddess perform the lowliest of tasks for him.
At the same time, he could give further thought to whether he should devour Luo Zhao.
But after turning the matter over in his mind, Gu Chengyin realized that the source of his hesitation did not actually lie with Luo Zhao.
It was because he was still at the peak of the Foundation Establishment Realm.
If he could break through to the Golden Core Realm, why would he bother worrying about any of this?
Therefore, he absolutely had to win the Taihe Battle.
As for Luo Zhao…
Gu Chengyin thought for a moment, then gestured toward the bed.
“Your Highness, weren’t you planning to take revenge on your aunt?”
“Now is your best opportunity.”
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
s + Rent Collection Wealth】 At the start, he inherited a rundown house in the urban village from his grandfather. The house had no tenants, but the moment he was diagnosed with a terminal illness, a self-proclaimed empress from the Tianxuan Continent arrived as his first tenant. Ye Chuan soon discovered that with every new tenant moving in, not only did he receive massive daily payments, but he also obtained unique items related to their backgrounds. 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Tiger Strength Pill—dramatically enhances physical power!】 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Deer Blood Pill—significantly boosts vitality!】 …… From that day on, all sorts of bizarre tenants began appearing in the house: the empress from Tianxuan Continent, an apocalyptic sorceress from the Magic Realm, a mysterious scientific girl who fell through a spacetime rift… Every single day, he received strange, powerful items and endless money. Then one day, he suddenly realized—he had become invincible. Enough, enough! Stop giving me more!
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
lity and could only live as an ordinary mortal. He only wished to live a peaceful life. Yet he didn't know— The dog he adopted, because it ate his food, became a legendary demon king. The kitchen knife he casually forged became a peerless divine weapon, causing numerous experts to fight desperately for it. The young disciple he took in became an immortal lord that led an era, due to cultivating the techniques Ye Feng taught him. Even the skeletons he looked down on the most were ominous demon kings that suppressed countless worlds. Many years later, looking at the void shattered with a punch, Ye Feng murmured to himself: It turns out the peerless kings were myself all along...
