"Come on, Little Puddle," she said, standing up. "Let's go home. I have a new recipe for Spirit-Energy Pancakes I want to try on you tomorrow."
Wangchen followed her, his hand resting comfortably on Winter's Sigh.
"I look forward to it," he said. And for the first time, he truly meant it.
***
The week leading up to their departure was, in Lin Ji'an's humble opinion, a period of rigorous academic and martial preparation.
To anyone watching from the outside, specifically Xie Wangchen, it was seven days of psychological warfare disguised as "bonding."
Ji'an, freed from the looming threat of immediate death and high on the dopamine of her new martial prowess, had reverted to her natural state: a bored, mischievous deity ruling over her small kingdom in the West Courtyard.
She spent her mornings perfecting the Scorched Earth Stir-Fry Technique, swinging her black-iron spatula until the wind howled like a banshee.
She spent her afternoons "tasting" ingredients, which was actually meant to be eating snacks. And she spent her evenings… well, she spent her evenings tormenting her newly acquired "cub."
Xie Wangchen was too fun to tease. He was like a stoic, beautiful statue that cracked ever so slightly if you poked it in the right spot.
He took everything so seriously. If she told him the sky was purple, he would look up, squint, and try to find a philosophical reason for the color shift.
It happened on a Wednesday. The heat was oppressive, sticking to the skin like wet silk.
Ji'an had just finished a sparring session with the wooden dummy and was looking for her personal cooler, Xie Wangchen.
She wandered toward the small washroom attached to the servants' quarters. Steam was curling from under the door frame, carrying the scent of soap beans and crushed mint.
Any normal person would have knocked. Lin Ji'an, however, was currently roleplaying a tyrannical-but-charming young master who lacked boundaries.
"Wangchen!" she called out, kicking the door open with the casual confidence of someone who owned the building. "I forgot to ask you earlier, do we have enough star anise for the—"
She froze.
The room was thick with mist. In the center sat a large wooden tub. And in the tub sat Xie Wangchen.
He wasn't the scrawny, ribbed skeleton she had picked up two weeks ago. The Nine-Petal Golden Marrow Pill and her high-protein diet had done their work with terrifying efficiency.
His shoulders, glistening with water, were broad and sculpted with lean muscle. His wet black hair was plastered to his neck and collarbones, framing a face that was currently frozen in a mask of absolute horror.
Water droplets slid down his chest, tracing lines over defined pectorals and disappearing into the cloudy water just above his waist.
For a second, Ji'an's brain short-circuited. 'Oh. Right. He's a guy. I'm pretending to be a guy. Bros see bros naked all the time in locker rooms. This is fine. This is totally normal.'
Xie Wangchen, on the other hand, looked like he was about to suffer a Qi deviation.
"Young Master!" he choked out, his voice cracking. He violently splashed water, sinking lower into the tub until the water reached his chin, his ears turning a violent shade of crimson. "The door! The lock!"
"The lock is flimsy," Ji'an noted, leaning against the doorframe instead of leaving. She crossed her arms, fighting the urge to laugh at his panicked expression.
He looked like a wet cat. A very handsome, very startled wet cat. "And don't be so shy. We're both men here. What have you got that I haven't seen on an anatomy chart?"
"That is not the point!" Wangchen sputtered, his usual cool demeanor disintegrating. "Young Lord, please have some decency!"
'This young lord is utterly shameless and has no boundaries! Ugh, I want to strangle him!' Wangchen was burning from the shame and rage he was experiencing as he glared at Lin Ji'an. But he didn't really mean to do what he thought.
"I was just asking about the star anise," Ji'an drawled, eyes twinkling. She deliberately let her gaze wander over the room, enjoying the way he shrank further into the water. "But since you're busy marinating yourself... I'll check the pantry myself."
She turned to leave, but stopped just as she grabbed the handle. She looked back over her shoulder, lowering her voice to a playful, husky register.
"By the way, Little Puddle... you missed a spot behind your ear."
She winked and slammed the door shut.
Inside the washroom, Xie Wangchen remained submerged, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
He touched the back of his ear, his hand trembling. The heat in his face had nothing to do with the steam.
He groaned, sliding down until he was fully underwater, blowing bubbles in frustration. 'He is a demon,' Wangchen thought, the image of Ji'an's mischievous grin burned into his eyelids. 'A complete, utter demon.'
But even as he thought it, he didn't feel the familiar cold rage. Instead, he felt a strange, burning tension in his gut, a feeling he absolutely refused to name.
The peace didn't last long. Two days later, a summons arrived from the Main Courtyard. Madam Lin, the Head Wife, had recovered from her tea-cup-shattering rage and was ready for Round Two.
"She wants to have 'tea' with me," Ji'an told Wangchen as he helped her adjust her sash. "Translation: She wants to guilt-trip me into submission before I leave for the Sect."
"Should I prepare the poison antidotes?" Wangchen asked, dead serious. He was fastening a jade pendant to her waist, his fingers brushing against her hip with careful, reverent touches.
"No need. This is a mental battle," Ji'an said, checking her reflection. "She's going to play the 'Benevolent Mother.' Little does she know, I have watched more than 500 episodes of palace dramas. I am the Grandmaster of White Lotus Arts."
They arrived at the Hall of Fragrant Blossoms to find a tableau of domestic perfection.