"Master, it's raining."

As Zhou Jiuyu descended the stairs, Nan Mengling gazed at the drizzling sky and murmured softly.

"No big deal."

Zhou Jiuyu casually conjured an umbrella and slowly unfurled it. His ability lacked combat power, but functional items like this? Effortless. It was a dream—why not indulge a little?

He glanced at Nan Mengling. "Stop staring. My power’s limited—only one umbrella. I’ll *graciously* let you squeeze in. Come here."

He cleared his throat and beckoned.

Head lowered, Nan Mengling obediently stepped closer, pressing gently against him.

Feeling the sudden warmth, Zhou Jiuyu walked on impassively, shooting her a sidelong glance. "Overstepping again, maid? I share my umbrella, and you take advantage? Suspicious!"

"The umbrella’s too small, Master," she whispered.

True—their shoulders had to brush to stay dry.

"Fine. You may lean in. *Once*," he said sternly.

"Thank you, Master…"

She edged nearer, peeking at his face. *He really is mischievous… and lecherous.*

But she didn’t care. As long as he stayed. As long as he didn’t leave her alone in this strange city…

Bumping and swaying down the street, her plump hips brushed his swinging hand; her soft bosom grazed his arm.

Each time, Zhou Jiuyu reprimanded her with a straight face—while inwardly chuckling at how easily fooled she was.

He never noticed the faint blush blooming on her lowered cheeks, or how her slender legs pressed tightly together beneath the vintage white robe.

Truth was, only hunger masked the restless urge. Earlier on the bullet train, she’d barely held back in the cramped restroom—ashamed, flustered, knowing *he* was waiting. Now… the ache returned. Normally she’d endure. But beside him? Why pretend? This closeness kept him near. And she had *nothing* left but him.

"What do you want to eat?"

His voice pulled her from rosy thoughts. Blinking, she brightened, pulling a pink-and-white pouch from her bosom. Inside: neatly folded flyers—dresses, smartphones, a vivid red KFC ad.

She pointed at the burger and fries, eyes wide and hopeful. "Master… I want this."

Zhou Jiuyu stroked his chin gravely. "Hmm… expensive."

She hastily offered a red envelope. "My master’s lucky money. All yours."

He took it, frowned. "Might cover one meal. But lodging tonight? Only one room. Think carefully."

Her eyes lit up. She nodded fast, terrified he’d change his mind.

"You said it. Let’s go—KFC awaits."

*This silly girl really loves KFC,* he mused.

Unseen behind him, her cherry lips parted, exhaling quick, flustered breaths into the rainy night.

—

After using a hundred-yuan bill from her envelope to order the 99-yuan Family Bucket, they settled at KFC.

Curious eyes followed them—no, *her*.

Nan Mengling’s peerless beauty, icy grace, and vintage white robe drew every gaze.

But the real spectacle? This serene sword maiden devouring a burger like she hadn’t eaten in years.

Most enviable? Zhou Jiuyu, lounging by the window, lazily accepting fries fed by her hand—and "accidentally" nibbling her fingers. *Nice.*

He thought *he* was winning. She thought *she* was. When his teeth grazed her finger, she’d secretly suck it afterward, legs pressing tighter under the table…

Luckily, he missed it. He was busy with something else.

*Exploit the glitch.*

His ability? All flash, no substance. But umbrellas and cash *materialized*. There *had* to be a way.

Plan A: awaken Nan Mengling. Only by beheading her master—the Sword God (a spineless cuckold, yet a genuine Ninth Tier swordsman)—could she break free. She was only Sixth Tier now. Overnight enlightenment? Impossible. Overnight awakening to Ninth Tier? *Plausible.*

But if it failed? Plan B.

And Plan B started here: *exploit the glitch in his own power.*

"Give me a guidebook: *How to Enhance My Ability*."

No prayers to heaven. Just ask *himself*.

He visualized logical methods, palm open under the table.

His eyes widened.

Not at the thick tome *Dreams Come True: Ability Guide* now resting in his hand.

But at Nan Mengling—*secretly "sharpening her sword"* beneath the table, thighs shifting under her robe’s hem.

*With the very hand that fed him fries.*

…I misjudged you. You perverted little vixen.