She jolted awake to find Mei Yige’s harmless face staring right at her.
“You—you! What are you doing!”
Flustered beyond composure, the Great Lord Blood Demon stammered wildly, nearly tumbling off the sofa.
“Dinner’s ready. Were you having a nightmare…?”
“I didn’t—I’m not—don’t move!”
Seeing Mei Yige extend that slender, dangerous (?) hand—the same one that had gripped her wrist during their lesson—Shiren’s alarm bells screamed.
Before she could flail away, Mei Yige’s other hand shot out, grabbing her waving right wrist.
“You look pale… Your temperature’s low. Better add a layer?”
Pure, innocent eyes brimmed with concern.
“Mom… Mama…”
Shiren froze for a moment, muttering unconsciously. She’d glimpsed her mother in a haze.
“What was that, Shiren?”
Mei Yige hadn’t caught the whisper. She was already plotting how to tease this easily flustered new roommate.
She knew her relentless “offensive” social tactics had shattered Shiren’s usual defenses.
If she didn’t handle this carefully now, once the “upright official” came to her senses, Mei Yige would be sleeping on the streets.
From their first meeting, Shiren was clearly cold—that hadn’t changed. Tomorrow morning would likely bring back the icy sister.
But… today wasn’t wasted effort.
If Shiren stayed like this, it’d be boring.
“Oh… I must’ve dozed off.”
Mistaking her new roommate—and future meal—for her mother?
If that got out, the Great Lord Blood Demon’s dignity would shatter. She forced a cold glare, scanning Mei Yige’s gentle smile again.
Only after confirming no succubus-like charm magic was at play did she sigh in relief.
“So, would you like to—”
“No need. Just clean the kitchen.”
The coldness hit sooner than Mei Yige expected. Shiren slipped off the sofa, footsteps silent, vanishing from sight.
“She ran away…”
Mei Yige pursed her lips, no longer hiding her smile.
Thirty years hadn’t been wasted—she’d found a cute roommate.
Popping a sausage into her mouth, she pondered what fun antics to pull next.
But the thought made her slap her forehead, swallowing hard.
“Wait—shouldn’t I be securing this rental first? Why am I scheming pranks?”
Annoyed at her flawed strategy, she finished dinner, cleaned the kitchen, and retreated to her room with barely a flicker of regret.
The moment her door clicked shut, Shiren opened hers. Her gaze lingered on the hallway’s end room. Hesitating, she turned toward the basement instead.
Hans’ remains weren’t fully processed. Shiren had only used thigh, calf, and fatty cuts for cooking; the liver became pâté. Bones were ground to meal, organs composted.
But hair and skin remained.
“No good way to dispose of these… Burn them? Make instruments? No—too sinful.”
Annoying. Very annoying.
If it were Mei Yige, Shiren wouldn’t hesitate. She adored that one—every part deserved meticulous use.
Alas, as a principled Blood Demon, she wouldn’t eat without just cause or perfect timing.
“Old methods it is. She cries so easily—must be timid. Hmph, teasing me? I’ll show you the world’s cruelty…”
Mei Yige’s harmless face made Shiren restless. Honestly, no real scheming there—just an overly earnest girl who teared up at harsh words.
What family raised such a child? But thanks to them, Shiren had a delicacy to savor.
While Shiren plotted consumption, Mei Yige planned kindness. Neither knew the other’s true intentions.
Their first cohabitation day ended in strange, unspoken harmony.
Next morning, early-rising Mei Yige missed greeting Shiren.
In her adventuring days, the Hero sleeping in would’ve earned a “spoiled brat” label. Now, under this roof with such a considerate landlord, Mei Yige felt only admiration.
[Sleep well to work hard—that’s living wisely.]
Skipping the kitchen, she jogged around the town in the pre-5:30 AM breeze, hoping to find local breakfast spots. She adored watching traditional food crafts—from setup to closing.
“AUV, Miss Mei! Morning!”
That familiar voice called as she stepped out. Larin, the general store owner, wore sporty gear barely covering her torso, a fishing rod on her shoulder, a sloshing box in hand. Her baseball cap—red-orange, uniquely designed to tuck in cat ears—made her look vibrant.
“Morning! Nice hat—fishing trip?”
Without that youthful outfit, Mei Yige wouldn’t have guessed Larin was so young. Early thirties, maybe?
“We sell them! Buy one if you like. Fished all night—oof, my back! Rushing home to tank this catch. Oh, how’d you know I got a twenty-pound silver carp?”
Seriously, who asked you?
Mei Yige smiled but stayed silent.
“Anyway, out so early—sightseeing?”
“Not familiar yet. Jogging the town, grabbing breakfast.”
Mei Yige walked closer through the villa’s garden. Larin set down the box; water sloshed loudly inside.
Hearing “breakfast,” Larin’s eyes lit up.
“Oh? Breakfast? I know all the best spots—I’ll give you the inside scoop.”
