Luo Qingchuan froze for a few seconds.

He… he realized—no, it was more like he *might* have had just a tiny, tiny bit of intention to see Chen Yanyu flustered.

Luo Qingchuan swore it was only a minuscule amount!

Why?

She’s just so cute.

That’s all.

Once his thoughts cleared, Luo Qingchuan quickly looked away. A faint blush tinged his gentle face as he stammered, “Huh? No way! I-I was just saying it off the top of my head!”

“Hm?”

Chen Yanyu narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to his face. “You’re acting super suspicious!”

Pressure hit him like a wave!

He never expected this seemingly airheaded little dragon girl to be so perceptive.

If his mischievous intent got exposed… his cool, aloof demon lord image would shatter completely.

Leaning back with a nervous chuckle, Luo Qingchuan said, “Really? You’re overthinking it, Miss Chen. C’mon, go bathe. I’ll head out.”

Chen Yanyu watched his retreating back, suspicion flickering in her eyes.

Suddenly, she stamped her foot. “You can’t leave!”

“W-what’s wrong?” Luo Qingchuan asked, voice tight. “You don’t actually think I said that on purpose…?”

Chen Yanyu bit her lip. Though she desperately wanted to believe it, she whispered softly,

“I… I don’t have clean clothes to change into.”

Luo Qingchuan blinked in realization.

He’d nearly forgotten.

“Wait here. I’ll grab something.”

Chen Yanyu’s brow furrowed. “Luo Qingchuan… you have girls’ clothes at home?!”

She seemed…

Not pleased?

Luo Qingchuan shook his head with a wry smile. “I’ll lend you one of my outfits.”

“Y-yours?”

Her mind raced. Her face flushed crimson in an instant.

“O-okay,” she murmured shyly.

“Got it.”

Luo Qingchuan dashed to his bedroom, pulled a crisp white men’s shirt and loose jeans from the closet, and returned.

“Here.”

Chen Yanyu stared at the oversized clothes. Her expression stayed neutral—until she spotted the untouched tags. A trace of grievance flickered in her eyes.

Then—

Her gaze landed on the 100-inch TV in the spacious living room.

“A television!”

Her soft eyes lit up like a galaxy of stars.

The silver-haired girl turned to him, looking utterly pitiful. “Luo Qingchuan… after I’m done… could you watch one episode with me?”

“No problem.”

Luo Qingchuan smiled gently. He knew. Chen Yanyu’s oldest wish had always been…

To not watch dramas alone. To have someone sit beside her on the couch.

To discuss plots, share snacks, gently toss pillows at each other.

A childhood fantasy. Or maybe… a quiet dream.

“Thank you!”

Her eyes shimmered—bright, dewy, like sunlight on splashing water.

“I won’t bother you anymore.”

Luo Qingchuan fled with a guilty heart.

After her sharp questioning, he felt oddly intimidated by this little dragon girl.

Remembering how she’d beaten Peony…

Could Chen Yanyu be a natural-born trickster?

If he teased her too far… would she pin him down and beat him up?

A chill ran down his spine.

Wiping blood from his temple, Luo Qingchuan stepped into the second-floor bathroom, emotions tangled.

As the saying goes, guys shower fast.

True to form, he was done in ten minutes—clean, refreshed.

Post-Foundation Establishment, his skin even felt smoother.

He slipped into pajamas and returned downstairs.

Sitting on the sofa, he scrolled his phone with one hand and turned on the TV with the other.

No breaking news.

He opened the Xundao app—a trial-phase official forum for cultivators.

Top post instantly caught his eye:

*“SHOCK: Foundation Establishment+ Battle Erupts in Jiangbei Yin City!”*

Summary from a bystander. Then—a photo.

Taken from a balcony at night. Grainy. Blurry.

But that silvery lightning bolt shooting straight from the city ground into the sky?

Crystal clear.

“No way it looked this intense from afar…”

He’d been there—nearly blinded—and yet the photo stunned him.

Comments flooded in, pure internet chaos:

“Whoa! Lightning art this strong?! Fighting downtown? Bro, you’re playing with fire!”

“Switching to lightning cultivation NOW. Sword sect? Betrayed.”

“Haha, no lightning = failed cultivator life.”

“Mortals! That was MY ascension tribulation!”

“Reply: Since when do tribulations shoot *up* from the ground?”

“Spiritual Qi Revival 2.0 confirmed.”

“I invalidate your confirmation.”

…

Finally, a serious reply:

“Anyone injured?”

“My friend’s friend’s classmate was there—but total chaos. Pitch dark. Everyone ran. Saw nothing.”

“…Rumor says a shadow with a blade.”

“That shadow = Foundation Establishment Realm master?”

Luo Qingchuan exhaled in relief.

No exposure.

Chaos hid everything. Chen Yanyu rescued an unconscious dancer. He’d been wrapped in calamity aura.

“Still risky. Next time—more caution.”

Then—a hesitant, trembling voice called out.

He turned.

And froze.

Chen Yanyu stood there, wrapped only in the oversized shirt. Her porcelain face glowed like a ripe apple. Steam curled gently from her damp silver hair. Snow-pale legs, flushed pink from the bath, peeked beneath the hem.

“The… pants are too loose… they’ll slip… I can’t walk…” Her teary eyes locked onto him.

Damp silver strands clung to her shoulders. The loose collar revealed a delicate collarbone. Sleeves swallowed her arms; she held them up helplessly—like a shivering kitten begging for help.

“W-wah… Luo Qingchuan! Don’t just stare… please help me!”