Chapter 52: That’s My Bed! Get Up Right Now!

Jin'er nodded, her expression calm as still water, but inwardly she was far from convinced. A child who refuses to grow up? She hardly thought so. What child could be as ruthless and cunning as she was?

For her master’s sake, she could overlook what had happened before, but it would be best if no ill intentions arose again. Otherwise, she would not hesitate to respond in kind.

After dinner, Jin’er returned to her room, her body heavy with fatigue. She sank into her chair with a sigh, closed her eyes, and raised a hand to rub her temples.

Pushing her mind to its limits every day—how could she not be tired?

“If you’re so exhausted, why don’t you rest properly instead of wearing yourself out till the dead of night?” A familiar voice sounded from nearby, tinged with disapproval.

Jin’er’s eyes flew open and she turned her head. There, in the corner of the room, someone was sitting. She had come in with her head down, too tired to notice anyone.

“What are you doing in my room?” she asked in surprise.

“You left your window open, so I came in.” Mo Yan shrugged, unconcerned.

Ha! So he treated her window as a door? Jin’er rolled her eyes, about to scold him, when a sudden thought struck her.

“Wait—how do you know I stay up till midnight? Don’t tell me, last night it was you…” She stared at him in shock.

Mo Yan curled his lip, stood up, and approached her. “It was me. I happened to be passing by and saw you asleep at your desk, so I came in.”

“Happened to be passing by? Outside my room in the middle of the night?”

“Yes, just happened to pass by. Why so many questions? You’re tired, aren’t you? Let me help you clear your meridians. Sit still, close your eyes, and relax.” Unable to bear her dramatic expressions, Mo Yan hurried to change the subject.

Jin’er, exasperated, complied and sat quietly with her eyes closed.

Soon, a tingling sensation spread over her scalp, as if fine silver needles were piercing deep into her head.

She didn’t know how much time passed, but when he finally removed the needles, she opened her eyes and found her head much lighter.

“You’re quite skilled in medicine.”

Mo Yan grinned with pride. “Of course.”

“Can you teach me?” Jin’er looked at him earnestly.

“Teach you? I’m not planning on taking any disciples for now.” Mo Yan put away his needles and, with a light step, seated himself on the desk.

Today he wore a white robe embroidered with red peonies, his ink-black hair loose around his shoulders, lips crimson and alluring—a true vision of demonic beauty.

Jin’er watched him for a while before forcing herself to look away. “Then at least teach me the needling technique to suppress the Deathlust Powder in my system. Just that one.”

Mo Yan raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. “What’s the use? When the poison attacks, you can barely lift your hand, let alone needle yourself.”

Jin’er considered this; he had a point. Still, better to know than not.

“Tell me anyway. If I relapse and you’re not there, I can instruct someone else. Or would you rather see me die? In that case, your past efforts to save me would’ve been wasted.”

Mo Yan frowned, pondering, then said, “Even if I teach you to suppress the Deathlust Powder, what will you do about the Silver Serpent poison in your body? Roast yourself over a fire?”

Jin’er rolled her eyes and finally lost her temper. “Are you going to teach me or not? Why so much nonsense?”

Mo Yan shrank back from her fierceness, his handsome brows drawn together in distress.

Goodness, the little girl was angry—so fierce!

“Um, I was just analyzing the problem for you. No need to be so harsh. Fine, I’ll teach you.”

Seeing him meek and obedient for once made Jin’er want to laugh. She certainly had a talent for being a shrew.

Thus, Mo Yan dutifully taught her the method. Only afterward did Jin’er realize this was his painstakingly developed Sixty-Four Needles for Poison Suppression—a technique effective against many poisons, even rare and lethal ones.

Clearly, this man was no ordinary talent. She’d have to find a way to extract all his secrets in the future.

Jin’er took out paper and brush, copying down everything he’d just told her, while Mo Yan watched her crooked writing sidelong, full of disdain.

How hideous—her handwriting was truly awful… He was about to comment when a knock sounded at the door.

“Jin’er? It’s me.”

Jin’er, absorbed in her writing, started at the sound. She hurriedly finished the last few characters, set the brush aside, and said, “Just a moment.”

Looking around, she realized, frustrated, that there was nowhere to hide someone in the small room. Inspiration struck; she pulled the unruffled Mo Yan from the desk and pushed him into the corner by the door.

Mo Yan was not pleased with her rough handling, but one fierce glare from Jin’er kept him obediently in place.

“Coming.” Jin’er opened the door, blocking Mo Yan behind it. “What is it?” She ought to address him as senior brother, but found it too awkward, so she left it off.

“Um, can we talk inside?” Xiao Jiu looked at her, a faint worry between his brows.

Jin’er frowned, glancing sideways to make sure he couldn’t see behind the door, then stepped aside to let him in, pushing the door further against the wall.

Behind the door, Mo Yan pressed himself against the wall as much as possible, but still couldn’t avoid being pinched by the door.

Damn it! When had he ever had to hide like this? It felt almost like… an illicit affair? The thought made him both annoyed and amused.

Oh well, just endure it. He had come uninvited, after all.

“Jin’er, I want to have a proper talk with you.” Xiao Jiu turned to her, his expression serious.

“About what?” Jin’er leaned casually against the desk, mindlessly straightening her cuffs.

“Earlier… did Qin’er do something to you?”

Jin’er paused, looked up at him, and sighed impatiently. “What do you really want to know? Whether Qin’er did something to me, or why I’ve been avoiding you?”

Caught, Xiao Jiu’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he’d held these questions in his heart too long to let them go now.

“Both,” he said, taking a deep breath and meeting her eyes.

Jin’er was speechless. Clearly, he wouldn’t give up until he had answers.

“Fine. As for why I’m avoiding you, it’s mainly because I dislike Qin’er, and you’re her senior brother, so I don’t like you either. As for what she did, you can ask her yourself—I have nothing more to say.” With that, Jin’er turned away.

“Is it really just that? But Qin’er is Qin’er, and I am myself. Jin’er, I…”

“Enough!” Jin’er cut him off sharply. “I’m already exhausted every day. I don’t want to force myself to feign closeness with people I dislike. You needn’t bother with me—just treat me as a stranger. The one who truly cares for you is Qin’er. Take good care of your dear junior sister. I’ve never seen you as a brother.”

At those words, Xiao Jiu felt as if a knife had twisted in his heart.

What was wrong with him? Was it really such a blow to have his good intentions ignored? Was there any need to feel such pain? Did he… have feelings for her?

No, impossible. She was just a child, and they’d only known each other for a little over two months. Every time his thoughts wandered that way, this reasoning would interrupt him.

Perhaps he was just overthinking everything.

“I’m tired and want to rest now. Please go.” Jin’er, seeing him stand there, troubled and silent, had no choice but to urge him out.

Xiao Jiu lifted his gaze and looked at her deeply, then turned and left.

Why, even now, could he not let go? Didn’t he already have the answer? So why did his heart still feel so heavy? He questioned himself as he trudged upstairs.

Once he’d gone far enough, Mo Yan stepped out from behind the door and closed it softly.

At last—freedom.

Mo Yan rubbed his nose where the door had pinched it, then turned to see Jin’er standing there, head bowed in a daze. He raised an eyebrow, approached her, and asked, “Heartache?” As he spoke, he pinched her chin, making her meet his eyes.

“That boy seems to like you quite a bit,” Mo Yan said sourly.

“Impossible. He only sees me as a younger sister.” Jin’er averted her gaze, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I doubt that. But whether he likes you or not doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that you’re mine, and I won’t allow you to like him.” His eyes glinted with a wicked, possessive light.

Jin’er was stunned. It took her a moment to react, then she slapped his hand away. “What nonsense are you spouting? Get out!”

“If you want me to go, I won’t.” Mo Yan raised his chin smugly, sauntered over, and with a thud, sprawled out on Jin’er’s bed.

“Hey! That’s my bed! Get up!” Jin’er, exasperated, rushed over and tried to pull him up by the arm. But he was so solid she couldn’t budge him.

“Get up!” she shouted, putting all her strength into it.

But no matter how hard she tried, he didn’t move an inch. With the slightest effort on Mo Yan’s part, she lost her balance and tumbled forward—landing right on top of him.