Upon hearing Nan Mengling’s words, Zhou Jiuyu froze for a moment, then swallowed hard. What did she mean?

But could he really be unaware?

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Tired. So I need… to replenish mana.” Her voice was soft. Clear eyes flickered with guilt as she glanced at the water.

“Did you watch *Fate*?”

“How did you know, Young Master?!” Nan Mengling’s eyes widened.

“Just use your head,” Zhou Jiuyu said, relaxing. He rested his hands on the tub’s edge, upper body rising from the water, sitting on the rim against the wall.

He closed his eyes and beckoned. “Fine. Replenish mana it is. Come here and lie down.”

A fierce blush crept up Nan Mengling’s pale, serene cheeks. She bit her rosy lips, smoothed a stray strand of hair, and knelt in the water…

Amid Zhou Jiuyu’s low groan, he inwardly praised her.

*Never thought this silly maid would have a clever moment.*

Logically, even in a world of supernatural abilities, “mana replenishment” shouldn’t exist. Drinking this was less useful than an energy drink—at least that perks you up.

But!

If it’s normally useless… why not *declare* it effective between them?

He even added a rule: when the silly maid drank his blood, she regained HP and MP. A single drop drawn from him triggered healing and mana restoration—a perfect cycle.

The illogical declaration drained all his Spirit Energy instantly.

Then, every ten to twenty minutes, massive HP and MP restoration surged back.

For two hours in the tub, “drinking potions,” they grew not tired—but sharper, more energized.

Nan Mengling splashed water on her face. Dewdrops clung to her fair cheeks, enhancing her pure glow.

They embraced—Zhou Jiuyu seated below, Nan Mengling on his lap.

After their long flight from Sword God Mountain, this should’ve been a tender, touching moment… if not for the bathroom and missing clothes.

Now, hazy longing clouded her bright eyes. She pulled his arm close, resting against his chest.

Desire swam in her gaze, yet clarity lingered. *So warm… I want to sink here forever. Even if he teases me—just stay with him.*

But remembering the escape… safety beside the Young Master. Without him? She could survive alone—but that security? Gone.

She feared the unexpected.

*Dying without ever sharing true intimacy with him… would that not be a deep regret?*

“Mmm…”

Zhou Jiuyu cupped her chin, tilting her face up. He lowered his head, gently nibbling her lips. She lifted hers willingly—cherishing the closeness more than he did.

After a moment, she pulled back, gaze earnest.

“Take me, Young Master. Don’t mind my body… Even one minute. I want to become one with you.”

“I can. But…” Zhou Jiuyu nodded, then shook his head. “That moment is precious. I look forward to it too. But not here. Not now. True beauty comes only after everything is right. This feels too hasty, don’t you think?”

Nan Mengling bit her lip. “I… I wish to be with you openly in bed after avenging our grievances. But… I’m afraid… afraid I won’t live to see that day—”

*Flick.* Zhou Jiuyu lightly tapped her cheek. She winced, covering it, meeting his stern glare.

“No foolish words. Under *this* Young Master’s lead, only happy endings exist.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t ‘oh’ me. And I won’t have our perfect moment cut short by you crying, ‘Young Master, I can’t… let’s sleep, continue tomorrow’.”

Her face burned crimson. She looked down.

*It’s not my fault!* That damn Sword God tricked her into drinking “calming tea” for over a decade.

*When I find him… I’ll rip his head off.*

“Alright…”

Dejected, she lowered her head, puffing her pink cheeks.

“But… theoretically,” Zhou Jiuyu whispered softly near her ear, “the calming tea’s effect shouldn’t reach… another place.”

“Huh?”

Confusion filled her eyes. She didn’t understand.

“If the front gate won’t open,” he murmured, holding her close, coaxing gently, “why stubbornly batter it? Why not… try the back door?”

“Huh?”

She still didn’t get it—until memory flashed: certain *alternative routes* from videos. Understanding dawned. Eyes wide, her delicate frame trembled.

“Young Master… that place is impossible!”

“Then we stop here. Rest. I won’t force you.” Zhou Jiuyu moved to rise.

Instinctively, she grabbed his arm. Head tilted, lip bitten, flushed face swirling with shyness and conflict. “If… if the Young Master wishes… I, I…”

“…Mm?”

“Wait! Young Master—dress quickly! A faint killing intent approaches… they might be at the hotel already!”

Like ice water dumped over them, the renewed threat extinguished all tenderness, all restless heat.

Nan Mengling swiftly changed into a white T-shirt and denim shorts. The loose fabric hinted at curves; modest yet undeniably alluring—especially after their session.

“Young Master… where do we run next?” she asked, voice tight.

Brief warmth faded. The thought of another grueling escape coiled her nerves anew.

“Run?”

“No more running.”

Zhou Jiuyu’s mood hit rock bottom. Every path blocked. Why flee further?

“Damn it! We fight back!”

“But… Young Master, they’ll send Ninth Tier hunters. My swordsmanship isn’t—”

Zhou Jiuyu cut her off, voice absolute:

“I say your swordsmanship is top-tier—*then it is*.”

A terrifying sword intent erupted from Nan Mengling, surging skyward. Her White Moon by the bed trembled, humming in resonance.

Her eyes shone with disbelief. She stared at Zhou Jiuyu. He held her gaze.

A silent nod. Understanding sealed between them.