Since I really wasn't used to soaking baths, I wrapped it up quickly, stepped out wrapped in a towel, and found Qingli waiting right by the door.

"Come to my room to dry your hair."

"Mm... thanks for your trouble."

In every way, Qingli was an excellent, qualified maid... well, a young female attendant could pretty much be called a maid too. She gently gathered my hair in her hands, and the hairdryer's soft warm breeze dried it bit by bit. The sensation tingling from my nerve endings felt so good I couldn't help letting out little hums.

"Alright, don't fidget," Qingli said, setting down my now-dry hair. She stood and opened the wardrobe. "Time to change."

Great. I knew this part was coming. But after last time, I could stay calm about it. I looked at the outfits she'd laid out, unmoved, and just blinked as I asked:

"Where's the bra?"

No way she'd trick me twice!

"Oh right, the bra," Qingli said, ignoring my "I see right through you" glare. She pretended to have forgotten again, but the slight upward curve of her lips gave her away.

"So don't prank me next time... seriously," I sighed lightly. After picking for a moment, I chose a white knitted sweater, a brown skirt, and black tights. It was raining and cold outside, but the room's warm AC meant even less clothing wouldn't chill me.

Qingli took my wet clothes to dry them. It was seven PM; in three hours, I'd need to head home. I hoped they'd dry by then. Once ready, I headed for the door to thank Elder Mink.

"What, still waiting for that fox?"

A gruff voice from the living room stopped me cold. I hadn't heard it before—not Elder Mink's, nor the burly man's. But anyone allowed here must be "in the circle." Or... not human at all.

"We're not waiting for anyone. We just can't agree with your proposal."

Elder Mink's voice, calm as a grandfather sipping tea... fitting, really. They seemed deep in serious talk. I shouldn't interrupt. I'd almost turned back to my room when the next words froze me: "Are you really so stubborn as to hand your fate to that little girl?"

They were talking about me! My heart leapt into my throat. I tensed, listening secretly while holding my breath. I'd felt the Yao Race's perception firsthand—in human form, I shouldn't hear this. But my hidden fox ears helped.

"This isn't about stubbornness. We don't blindly follow ancestral rules; we simply trust you less than that girl."

Surprisingly, Elder Mink didn't argue fiercely—he just politely declined. The unseen guest's words sparked a suspicion: revolutionaries... no, the opposition party! Seriously, no "emperor" calls their overthrowers "revolutionaries." That's just embarrassing. I sighed at my own tangents and kept listening.

"No matter," the gruff voice continued, dripping with arrogance. "As kin, I'll protect you when needed. But cooperate, old man. Your perception is sharp—I recall. If you find that little fox, see the situation clearly and do the right thing."

Ugh, so pretentious. "See clearly and do right"? Just say it like a thug: "Hand over that fox bitch—I'll slit her throat myself." Everyone knew his meaning. I gritted my teeth, remembering Qingli's street warning, and swallowed my anger. Not even a mental grumble—what if their Yao Race senses caught it and he burst in, snatching me like a hawk grabbing a chick? I choked down the frustration, hoping Elder Mink's "diplomacy" would save me.

"'Protection' isn't needed," Elder Mink finally replied, surprising me. "This old man's lived long enough to avoid young folks' squabbles. Whether it's you or the Nine Tailed Fox—it's none of my business. Find her, and I won't interfere."

You should stop him, Elder! This is my life! My heart pounded wildly. Where were the loyal royalists? Even the sole emperor meant nothing to him? Trapped in this tiny room, my emotions tangled.

Honestly, since our first meeting, Elder Mink's kindness vanished during serious talks—have you ever seen a loyal subject scare an emperor to tears? And that burly man always glared at me. In the whole noodle shop, only Qingli truly cared. Elder Mink and the thug probably acted nicely just for her sake. If trouble came, I'd be a lone emperor bearing sin for my jade.

The guest left after a few threats. I finally plopped onto the floor. This was helplessness. I sat there, dazed, until Qingli—back somehow—grabbed my hand.

"What's wrong?" Warmth spread from her grip as she asked with concern.

"Nothing, just thinking," I smiled, lying softly. Qingli had done enough. She belonged with Elder Mink's group; I was just lucky with fate. I couldn't complain about him to her.

"Your clothes are dry. Wear them when you go home."

"Mm, thanks, Qingli," I said, standing. "Give them now—I got a text from Mom. She knows I skipped class and I need to explain."

No text existed. The explanation happened hours ago via my teacher's call. I just needed an excuse to leave. Wait—I froze. Qingli's puzzled look reminded me: I had no phone. Parents banned them on school days; I handed mine to Mom every Monday. Qingli had sorted my belongings while drying clothes—she knew my pockets better than I did.

I stammered to explain, but Qingli just said, "Alright, be careful on your way."

Changing back to a boy, I dressed and stepped out with her umbrella. Only Qingli saw me off, walking me across the street under her own umbrella.

"Go back—my house is close," I said with an awkward smile. "If Mom sees a girl walking me home, she'll interrogate me half the night."

Qingli nodded and stopped. I suddenly remembered, reaching into my coat pocket to pull out an invitation. "Tomorrow night. At my school. You must come."

Almost forgot. Phew. Seeing her obedient "Mm," I turned away, satisfied.

This was probably today's smoothest moment, right?