Don't mess with that Miao boy, he's sickly and perverted.

After Xiaoman finished washing the last chamber pot, her ten fingers were already white and swollen from being soaked in well water.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead; his back was hunched from exhaustion.

This made his already thin body look even more weathered.

Although she is not very old, she looks seven or eight years older.

In the hazy moonlight, a little fox lay quietly on the well cover, its fluffy long tail drooping gently over the edge of the well.

It rested its chin on its front paws, its big, round, watery eyes staring at him intently.

Looking at those hands, white from being soaked in water, and that figure struggling to identify objects in the darkness, the little fox's orange-yellow eyes welled up with silent heartache and sorrow.

Unfortunately, Xiaoman's eyesight was poor, and in the dim night, she could only grope her way through the blurry light and shadows and her sense of touch to get to work.

Therefore, he didn't know that every night like this, the little fox would quietly come and keep watch. Nor did he know that when his hand was groping for the brush on the stone slab, it was that furry little head that quietly nudged the brush to his fingertips.

When Xiaoman returned to her small, dark room, it was already midnight.

The house was right next to the kitchen, and besides washing chamber pots, he was also responsible for tending the fire.

Half of the room was filled with firewood, and the other half was his bed made of wooden planks.

Xiaoman groped her way to the low table, her fingertips touching a warm porcelain bowl. She couldn't help but smile knowingly, immediately guessing that Xiangyun must have arrived.

The little girl is always quiet and reserved in front of strangers, but she is actually mischievous and clever. At this moment, she is probably hiding in the shadows, planning to suddenly jump out and scare him.

Xiaoman pretended not to know anything, and quietly squatted down by the table, scooping up the wontons from the bowl one spoonful at a time and putting them into her mouth.

With its thin skin and generous filling, every bite brings a warm, savory aroma that soothes the soul.

He was a low-level servant in the Huan Yin Pavilion, and he usually ate leftovers from the guests. It was a blessing if he could have a hot meal.

The courtesans and musicians received a special nightly meal, and Xiangyun would often save a portion and secretly bring it to him.

If he refuses to eat, she gets angry and keeps nagging him that he's too thin.

Sure enough, as he swallowed the third wonton, a pair of warm little hands suddenly covered his eyes from behind.

"The female ghost is here—" the voice was deliberately high-pitched, "Guess who I am?"

Xiaoman couldn't help but laugh. His vision was already blurry, so covering his eyes was really unnecessary, but he still gently cooperated and said, "I guess... it's a female ghost."

"Wrong! It's Xiangyun!" The girl smiled and let go of his hand, squatted down next to him, and scooped up a wonton with his spoon.

A strand of hair brushed against his fingers. Xiaoman paused slightly, then lowered her head awkwardly, unconsciously wiping her pale fingers on her trouser leg. "I...I just finished working and washed the chamber pot...my hands aren't clean, they're dirty and smelly. I'll give you another bowl."

"No need, I already ate five before you came back." Xiangyun didn't care at all. "Besides, you washed them carefully, so they're not dirty or smelly at all. My father used to work in the fields and personally fertilize the fields with manure. We ate all the rice he grew."

A hint of sadness flickered in her eyes when her father was mentioned.

If her father hadn't died and the family's land hadn't been seized by her wicked relatives, she wouldn't have been left destitute and sold to this place by her aunt, becoming a courtesan.

She knelt at her aunt's feet, weeping bitterly and pleading, only to be met with a cold, harsh rebuke: "You were adopted! Your father raised you out of kindness; now is the time for you to repay his debt!"

Xiaoman clearly sensed the sadness in Xiangyun's voice, so she put down her spoon and asked softly, "Would you like to hear another story today?"

"Great! Great!" Xiangyun's eyes lit up immediately.

She loves listening to Xiaoman tell stories.

His voice was always gentle, like a stream in the spring night. When she encountered parts she couldn't understand, he would patiently explain them word by word, and tell her the lessons hidden behind each story.

Xiangyun often secretly wondered that Xiaoman, who had read so many books and knew so much, must have had some unspeakable hardships in ending up here.

Several courtesans in the brothel loved to tease her, saying that she was always clinging to a blind man who emptied chamber pots, and that half of her face was burning with a frightening odor. They also said that she was so hungry that she could eat anything.

Xiangyun ignored it; she felt that Xiaoman was radiating a faint glow when she told stories.

Even the scars on his face had disappeared, making him more handsome than any man.

Especially a few months ago, when she was forcibly dragged into a room by an overbearing guest, and no one answered her cries, it was Xiaoman who stumbled in following the sound, shielded her behind her, and saved her.

From that moment on, she remembered the young man deeply and resolved to stay with him.

"Today's story is... The Fox Watching the Chess Game."

Xiaoman gently raised her head, as if lost in memories.

"In the east of the city, there was a young master who was a rare chess genius. He could observe the stars and set up chess formations, and calculate all the chess games in the world. His elders taught him strictly from a young age. While other children were playing outside, he could only set up chess pieces under the tree in his backyard and practice alone."

Every afternoon, a bright red little head would peek out from the top of the wall, tilting its head to watch him make his move.

The fox observed for a long time and memorized the chess moves.

Once, when the young master was unsure of what to do next, a small pine cone happened to fall from the wall and roll onto the chessboard with a "thud." The young master paused for a moment, then actually made that move, winning the game and ending the predicament.

As if recalling something amusing, Xiaoman's voice carried a gentle smile: "Since that day, the young master has always kept a plate of pine nut cakes by the stone table. The little fox is not polite either, coming on time every day to eat two pieces of cake and watch three games of chess. If a servant comes to disturb him, the fox will bristle its fur and growl, and if the young master is in a daze, it will deliberately knock over the chess pieces."

"Do they talk?" Xiangyun asked softly, her question whimsical, as it was just a story.

"I never say," Xiaoman shook her head. "One plays chess, and the other watches; that's perfect."

He turned his head to look out the window, the moonlight appearing hazy in his eyes, as if seen through a layer of luminous white mist.

I wonder if I'll ever have the chance to see that fiery little shadow again in this lifetime.

I'm afraid that even if it saw itself in its current form, it wouldn't recognize it anymore.

Actually, what I told Xiangyun earlier, "I never tell," was a lie.

That little fox spent more time with him than his parents did.

As the most watched child in the family, he was required to excel in everything from a young age, and his words and actions could not be wrong. He poured out all his bitterness, grievances, suppressed fatigue, and even all the secrets that he could not tell outsiders to the little fox.

It often seemed to understand, gently stroking the back of his hand with its little paws, tilting its fluffy little head, and gazing deeply at him with its moist eyes.

Thinking of this, a very faint smile appeared on Xiaoman's lips.

Outside the window, a fiery red ball is curled up on a wooden branch bathed in the warm glow of the lantern.

The little fox raised its front paw and quietly wiped away the tears rolling down its cheeks.

It hid itself in the red light emanating from the lantern paper, and was never seen by anyone.

But it couldn't escape the deliberate sense of smell.

A beam of talismanic light suddenly pierced through the air!

The little fox jumped up in fright and darted into the night, unnoticed by the people inside the room.

"I knew I wasn't mistaken, there really is a vixen!"

The white cat leaped across the roof tiles in a swift chase, its movements as fast as lightning, relentlessly pursuing its prey.

Seeing that it couldn't shake him off, the little fox rolled on the ground in a panic.

Instantly, a red light bloomed, transforming into a woman in red who landed gracefully, her black hair cascading down. She glanced back, her moist eyes reflecting panic.

She suddenly blocked the way of the night patrol soldiers, her eyes sparkling with natural allure, and cried out in a tearful voice, "My lords, help me! A mad cat is chasing me and trying to bite me... Please save this humble woman..."

Those eyes were alluring and captivating, and without a word, several soldiers shielded her behind them.

In the sky, a white cat was about to jump down from the eaves with its limbs outstretched. Just as it was about to throw out the lightning marks formed on its paws, a group of soldiers rushed forward.

"Ouch!" It quickly retracted its paw to avoid accidentally hurting anyone.

As a result, the lightning struck the cat's tail, instantly charring it black and leaving a bald patch.

"...Where's that burning smell coming from?" The white cat sniffed in confusion, then suddenly cried out in pain, "Ouch! My fur!"

Upon seeing this, the officer in charge shouted, "It's a cat demon! Brothers, charge! Take it down quickly!"

Just then, Jiang Zhiyu arrived with his sword, hurriedly blocking the way: "Please wait, everyone! It's a misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding! This is Master Ji from Jingming Terrace, definitely not a demon!"