“I’m here on your uncle’s orders to be your bodyguard.”

Yiwei Yang glanced at Qingyu Si standing in the doorway, then sprang up like a startled cat. He offered the letter from Kongxiao Si with both hands, like a child holding up a trophy. “Qingyu, look—this is the commission he gave me.”

“...”

Qingyu studied his bright grin, and bile rose like sour steam from a kettle. No desire for another word—she took the letter and slit it open, the paper whispering like dry leaves.

From the polished phrases and careful praise, Kongxiao Si clearly rated Yiwei Yang highly, every line like a seal pressed in wax. The tone even implied Kongxiao Si had personally invited him as her protector, like a host ushering in a guest of honor.

Qingyu’s impression of Kongxiao Si curdled, dark as stormwater. Bringing this kind of man in as her bodyguard felt like laying a stone in her shoe on purpose.

Her face fell shade by shade, like dusk settling. For a heartbeat, suspicion flashed—maybe Headquarters wanted Yiwei near her, to use her as a bargaining chip and leash him for the Si Family.

That smile made her stomach turn, slick as oil.

Qingyu folded the letter and tucked it away. She called to Yiyi Liu across the hall, her voice a cool breeze through bamboo leaves. “Take him to a first-floor guest room. He’ll live there. The Si Family is big; one more freeloader won’t sink the boat.”

“But, Miss...” The old master had assigned the new guard a second-floor room, right next to hers—

Qingyu stepped past Yiwei, impatience like frost on stone. “This isn’t HQ. Kongxiao Si has no say in my actions. That’s enough. Prepare dinner. I’m hungry.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Yiyi bowed to Qingyu, then bent toward Yiwei with an inviting sweep of her hand. “Mr. Yang, this way.”

“Ah... oh.” Yiwei still had his eyes snagged on Qingyu’s doorway, peeking back like a moth to a lantern as he followed Yiyi downstairs.

I should slip out too.

Nana Toki, parked in Qingyu’s room, watched the other maids trickle downstairs like sparrows leaving a branch, and moved to go with them. A cool hand clamped her wrist.

“You can’t leave.”

Nana: “...” Oh boy. Dead.

“Miss, you must be tired after walking home. Rest first. I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.” She turned with a practiced smile, bright as painted porcelain. “I won’t disturb you further?”

“No.”

Qingyu looked at Nana’s face, lips pressed like a sealed envelope, and forced out the word. It landed heavy as a pebble in a pond.

Nana: “...”

“I had Uncle Chen drive me home. I’m not tired. Your disturbance doesn’t bother me.” Qingyu paused, a hawk’s gaze fixing on Nana. “Why didn’t you pick me up this afternoon?”

Her heart had raced then, a drum in a fog, when the school gate showed no Nana.

“Uh... well... I got lost in the bliss of the shower and forgot your dismissal time.” Nana couldn’t say she stayed under hot water until the main quest ticked complete. They’d call her a lunatic.

Qingyu: “...”

“Why were you showering in my room?” She glanced toward the bathroom door. The glass had spiderwebbed from a single bullet hole, white cracks fanned out like winter frost.

She remembered the last handgun had been confiscated by that policewoman. How did Nana have a new one?

“After cleaning, I was beat. Didn’t want to go downstairs to my room, so I used yours.”

Nana told the truth, plain as bread.

“Then tonight I’m sleeping in your room. Together,” said Qingyu.

“Hm?” Wait—did she hear that right?

Nana studied Qingyu’s blank face, her grip iron around Nana’s arm. She had to ask. “You just said...”

“Sleep together tonight.”

Nana: “...”

How was this about sleeping?

She opened her mouth, then shut it.

“Just...” Qingyu’s eyes pinned her like needles through silk. “You and me.” Each word placed like a stone in a shrine. No refusal allowed.

“...”

Miss, can you please show the dignified restraint a cool-headed lead should have? This kind of free offer cheapens the aura.

Nana’s lips twitched. She wanted to say it, but rank pressed down like a lid. Right.

Bow to the local tyrant.

“Okay...”

You’re my master. Fine. Sleep’s sleep—won’t cost me a pound of flesh.

She’d use this chance to test whether Qingyu was the Nesting Phoenix. If not, then at this world’s end she’d send the System’s scummy owner a friendly facebreaker.

That mutt tricked her into free labor and still hadn’t paid for it. Same breed as her trash System.

System: “...” The host’s getting loud—cursing me and now the owner too. Maybe I should dial up next world’s difficulty. It plotted payback in the shadows, like a cat behind a curtain.

Qingyu loosened her grip once Nana’s answer came, calm as a lake at dawn. “See you tonight.”

She lifted her other hand, offering a school bag like a sealed mission. “You’ll come to school with me tomorrow. Take my backpack.”

“...”

“Okay.”

Nana drew a slow breath, cool as mint, and accepted the bag. She watched Qingyu leave, the doorway swallowing her like fog.

[Ding! Main Quest, Phase Four: Absolute Loyalty to Master—Complete!]

[Opening Main Quest, Phase Five: God-Tier Self-Cultivation of an Ultra-Perfect Maid (5) A Maid Is More Than a Maid]

Nana: “...”

That familiar completion chime rang like a tiny bell in her ear. In one day, she’d cleared three phases—about one per chapter. Seriously? Was the System this idle, stacking chores like teacups?

She hadn’t even stepped into the real mainline. Not a single hidden mission triggered. Suspicion seeped in like rain—this was the System’s mischief.

“The owner handed me these tasks. I didn’t add any.” The System sounded puzzled, flipping through lists like ledgers. “Don’t worry, Host. I skimmed them—pretty easy. Just a lot.”

“Then how many ‘maid self-cultivation’ entries are there?” If this keeps up—one bite per chapter—how long would this world drag?

“Uh... one thousand.”

“What?” The System dropped a thunderbolt.

Nana froze, as if the floor turned to ice. “A thousand? Why don’t you just die?”

This wasn’t “a bit many”—it was an avalanche. With the plot crawling like a tortoise, they’d finish in the year of the monkey.

Your owner’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he?

“Come on, Host, relax. They’re all feather-light. You can clear them while you’re phoning it in.” The System’s tone walked a line between comfort and shade. “From now on, I won’t ping you for each phase. I’ll report when the whole batch’s done.”

Nana: “...”

...

Because Yiwei Yang had become Qingyu Si’s bodyguard, the dining table in the Si Family villa gained one more place setting, chopsticks laid like twin reeds. Kongxiao Si had told her to treat him well.

Qingyu didn’t want to, but the thought of him tattling to her father pricked like a thorn. So she sat to dinner with him.

She chose the seat by his right, not face-to-face—angled like a blade held sideways.

Mid-meal, Yiwei tried several times to chat, his words tossed like pebbles across water. Qingyu’s responses were thin as smoke, sometimes nothing at all.

Her manner said she ate alone on a quiet mountain.

For a first visit, Yiwei’s embarrassment burned like a blush under noon sun.

Nana Toki and the other maids stood near the table, quiet as cranes, watching the Protagonist Lord choke down awkwardness.

Only after dinner, when both had retreated to their rooms and the air softened with rest, did Yiyi Liu scoot up to whisper to Nana.

“Hey, Tongtong, what do you think of the new bodyguard? Does he fit your taste?” Her eyes sparkled like little stars.

How’s the Protagonist Lord?

Nana lifted a brow while wiping a plate, light flashing like water on porcelain. “He’s... fine? If that’s my standard, you might as well slit my throat.”

Yiyi: “...”

“Tongtong, didn’t you used to like clean-looking, sunny pretty boys? I think Mr. Yang’s pretty good. Or—do you have a fever?” She reached to check Nana’s forehead, fingers cool as petals. “No fever.”

“...”

“That’s clean to you?” Nana flicked her hand away, rolling her eyes like a lazy tide. “Under a gentleman’s skin, there might be a beast.”

“Ah, no way.” Yiyi glanced toward Yiwei’s room, curiosity flitting like a sparrow. “I feel Mr. Yang’s okay.”

“...” Great. Another girl stepping toward a cliff.

“Girl, take it from someone who’s been scorched—don’t let beauty turn your brains to mush.” Nana slid the plate into the sterilizer, the door shutting like a quiet door in a temple. “Don’t end up used and branded.”

But—

“Heh, I don’t buy it. You’re trying to scare me off so I won’t compete with you for Mr. Yang, huh?” Yiyi’s laugh twined like ivy, full of mischief.

Nana: “...”

“Whatever makes you happy.” She shut the sterilizer with a click and headed for the corridor, escape like wind over grass. “Go pursue him boldly. If I block you even one step, I’ll twist off my head for you.”

What a joke. This Protagonist? She didn’t need to smear him. He was dark enough already.

“Enough chatting. I’m going back. I have to take the Miss to school tomorrow.” Another minute, and Nana would die of irritation, a fish flopping on dry sand.

The best move—leave.

Yiyi knew Nana’s schedule and didn’t press. They traded goodnights like lanterns passing hands and slipped away.

“You’re here?”

Back in her room, Qingyu sat on the bed, bare feet pale as lotus petals. She lifted her head as Nana opened the door.

“Good evening.”

“...”