Chapter 6: Daisy

To prevent the villain from practicing demonic arts, making him a cultivator was a form of insurance.

In the original plot, his demonic seed was exposed due to someone else's framing. That person intended to destroy Vane’s immortal roots, but unexpectedly enticed the hidden demonic seed within his dantian. Overjoyed, they publicized it widely, and Vane was soon captured as a spy of the Demon Realm and imprisoned in the Black Hanging Sea.

Practicing demonic arts was out of the question—it would surely trigger the demonic seed as soon as he started. That was not an option.

Given Zora's background as a cultivator without a family or connections, it was impossible to bring a mortal into a sect. Therefore, the best way was for him to go with her and for both to join the December Sect.

Zora walked around the streets, catching news of other immortal sects. During this time, the Master-Servant Covenant stirred slightly, tugging at Zora's dantian to send a message. She found that there were no major changes and continued listening.

The Immortal Cultivation Realm usually held a grand recruitment every five years, but very few passed the rigorous trials. There had even been recruitments where only a few inner disciples were accepted.

At this point in time, other immortal sects had already completed their recruitment; the December Sect was the last one.

Remaining a mortal forever was also out of the question. Not only would he be unable to suppress demon cultivators with force, but the issue of lifespan was also a problem. Furthermore, who knew if the Master-Servant Covenant would still hold against someone with high cultivation? It wouldn't be good if she were killed by the villain later.

A few miles east of Brookside Town was the entrance to the Cloud Stairway. Everyone was waiting for the grand recruitment to begin in two days.

Zora returned to the inn. She had asked a few questions about cultivation earlier, but it turned out the Oracle knew nothing beyond the original settings. After saying this, the Oracle spoke with deep unease.

[What if you don't climb the Cloud Stairway? We don't have any cheats. Your body is just your own. What if your roots and bones are also poor?]

Zora entered the room and opened the wardrobe. The dried clothes from the backyard had been folded and placed inside. She took a look and, finding them folded quite neatly, didn't move them.

Moreover, another set of clothes that Zora had messed up yesterday while searching had also been folded properly.

He must have come back midway to collect the laundry. Zora glanced at the bags of dried food placed in the corner.

"If I don't succeed, I’ll naturally die on the Cloud Stairway," she wondered why the Oracle asked such an obvious question. "If I die, he will die too."

[No, no, no! What if the villain breaks free from the original setting again and explodes when he’s about to die!]

"I'd be dead already."

It wouldn't be her concern then.

[...]

As noon approached, Zora felt a bit bored and took out her blade to polish it. After cleaning it, she tucked it back away.

It was time for lunch. Vane hadn't returned yet, so she would eat first.

Zora sat at the dining table on the first floor.

Speaking of which, the Master-Servant Covenant stirred today.

Her servant was resisting.

Vane did not know how to fold clothes.

Of course, in the Demon Realm, who cared about that?

He had caught a casual glimpse of another servant handling a master's clothes—folding them carefully and putting them into a box—when he went to the cloth shop last night to pick up the new garments.

Today, he had triggered the covenant on the street; Zora likely already knew. However, he could only follow the routine and buy some dried food and fabric. He couldn't carry everything in one trip, so he returned to the inn first.

Zora was out.

He brought the dresses in from the backyard. When placing them into the wardrobe, he paused.

Vane didn't know Zora's attitude toward a servant's resistance, but he knew that a person would only be tolerant toward a useful servant.

The boy expressionlessly began folding the dresses into squares. When he was done, he looked at the oddly shaped bundle of blue and fell silent for a moment.

"..."

Seeing how to do it didn't mean he actually knew how.

With great patience, he unfolded them and tried again. His slender fingers smoothed out the wrinkles, his features calm—even deathly still.

Vane felt no humiliation; such tasks failed to stir even a ripple in his heart.

If he were already a rising genius of the Immortal Cultivation Realm, accustomed to a high-and-mighty life, the mad arrogance suppressed in his heart would have broken through, and he would have felt immense resentment and hatred.

But right now, he was just a mortal who had just stepped out of the Demon Realm.

Vane felt only regret.

He had forgotten that without absolute certainty, he must never act rashly. He had grown too careless; after only two days of comfort, he had forgotten that the master-servant relationship was built on absolute obedience, not just doing laundry, cooking, and running errands.

She could completely kill him for this.

It took five or six tries before he folded them into neat squares. He folded the other set as well, closed the wardrobe, and went out again to continue buying the necessary items.

When the sun was high in the sky, Vane stepped into the inn carrying the bundles.

Zora had just sat down and ordered food. She was propping up her chin, staring at a table of people in front of her, quietly, as if in a daze.

Being near the door, the bright light made her appear as fair as the moon. Because she was propping up her cheek, her sleeve had slipped down, revealing a slender wrist.

Vane’s footsteps faltered for a moment, but then he approached with his usual expression. "I've finished buying everything."

Zora looked up. The boy was carrying heavy loads in both hands, yet his posture remained straight and his expression relaxed. He wasn't sweating or showing any signs of hardship. Even the high ponytail at the back of his head was as it was in the morning, with not a strand out of place.

He was very strong.

"Put them away and come down to eat," Zora said.

"Yes."

After going upstairs to put away the cloth bags, Vane sat to her right.

The food hadn't arrived yet, and the two had nothing to say to each other, creating a stark contrast with the noisy tables around them.

Zora was bored, doing nothing but staring blankly.

She realized that in this world, there didn't seem to be anything fun. At least in her original world, there were training rooms to pass the time, and some people who would show up and say strange things, wanting to eliminate her outside the Arena, serving as training targets.

She glanced at Vane.

He had his eyes lowered, looking at the table. He was less than a year older than Zora. His jawline still held a touch of youthfulness, but one could already see the early stages of a sharp and arrogant look. A few strands of black hair that hadn't been caught in his high ponytail fell along his face.

Zora looked at him: "Is there anything fun to do?"

"..." Vane had been keenly aware of her gaze since earlier. He had sensed her slight head tilt even before she looked over, but he remained still. The girl's gaze was pure—neither kind nor murderous—as if she were simply looking at him.

Hearing her question, he finally lifted his head to meet her eyes.

...Fun? What did she mean?

Vane, who had struggled in a lowly place and had never experienced the playfulness of ordinary children or teens, paused for a long time before saying cautiously: "I heard that on the road east toward the Cloud Stairway, people who are afraid to climb but feel jealous often lie in wait. They target weak, helpless people to beat and rob, preventing them from making the climb. We could go and play with them."

Zora wore an expression that said, "Did you not understand me?"

"I mean

play

." She paused, then asked curiously, "Is playing with people fun?"

Vane, who liked to torture people, fell silent for another moment: "It’s dull and tedious."

Zora nodded: "Indeed. A single fatal blow is best. Playing makes it easy for the opponent to counter-attack."

"Anything else?"

"..."

The long silence was broken by the attendant.

"Guests, here is your food."

Zora dropped the topic and reached out with her chopsticks to pick up food. Everything she ordered was what she liked.

After eating, she had nothing to do, and Vane, who didn't need to go out again after buying the supplies, followed her back to the room. He didn't understand why she hadn't mentioned the Master-Servant Covenant from today; he had been waiting.

There was a bronze mirror in the room. Zora leaned in to look. Her long hair was loose, with no ornaments.

She seemed to have never tied her hair back. In her original world, she had shoulder-length hair. Here, the Oracle had healed her body and incidentally let her black hair grow to her waist.

In a human settlement, leaving one's hair completely loose was not ideal; some people on the first floor had even whispered about it discreetly.

Vane was pondering her intentions when Zora suddenly turned and grabbed his hand. Vane’s body instinctively tensed in alarm, then he forced it to relax.

She pressed a wooden comb into his palm and then let go.

Zora’s palm was slightly cool—she was naturally a person who struggled to stay warm—while Vane was very warm. The sudden touch was like snow hitting fire, impossible to ignore.

Vane was stunned, while Zora stared up at him.

"Comb it. The simple, ordinary style they use." She hadn't noticed the differences in ancient hairstyles at all and didn't know how she should style hers, so she threw the problem to him.

"?" Vane looked at the comb, then at Zora.

"I don't know how..." he said with difficulty.

"Is fifteen minutes enough?" Zora asked him.

"...What?"

"Fifteen minutes. Go out and learn."

"..."

She was standing very close—perhaps not

that

close, but close for Vane. She was always like this when making a request—blunt and without concealment. Vane could even see his own blurry reflection in her brownish pupils.

"Alright." By the time he realized it, he had already agreed.

The boy was slightly startled, but he quickly put it out of his mind. In any case, a servant couldn't refuse a master.

"Tuition fee." Zora handed him a few spirit stones and waited for a moment. Seeing him not move, she reminded him in confusion: "The fifteen minutes have started."

"..."

Vane chose to go to the nearest bookstore to buy an illustrated book on hairstyles. He flipped through it, memorizing it in one go. At the same time, comparing it with the ornaments she should have, he bought silk hair ribbons and accessories suitable for a girl.

Time was too tight; he didn't even pay attention to the vendor’s flattery or nonsense like "The guest has great taste, your feelings will surely reach that young lady," as he hurried away.

When he pushed the door open, Zora was leaning over the windowsill, watching birds in the trees in the backyard. Hearing the door open, she turned her head: "Has it been fifteen minutes?"

"It should be exactly that." Vane calmed his breathing in a few heartbeats.

"Mhm." Zora sat before the bronze mirror.

Vane walked slowly behind her and said hesitantly: "I've never combed anyone else's hair before. It might hurt."

"Then just be careful."

The boy reached out and touched her black hair. It was exceptionally cool and exceptionally soft.

Recalling the steps in the book, he gathered a section of hair. Vane’s movements were indeed very careful—so careful that the pressure was extremely light. Zora felt his hand merely brushing past, and it was very slow. He would try repeatedly until he got it right.

Sunlight entered the room, gradually slanting and illuminating more space. By the time the golden rays touched the table leg, the boy in the room still hadn't finished.

Vane was extremely focused, his brows furrowed slightly. All complicated thoughts settled and vanished. His knuckles and palms wove through her hair, occasionally touching the girl’s ears, at which point he would pause slightly before continuing.

The hair at the back of Zora's head remained loose. Vane used the hair on her left and right sides to tie "Double Ox-Horn Bun" (Shuangya Ji), wrapping them with blue ribbons over and over until they finally took shape.

On the table lay a small flower-shaped hairpin with yellow stamens and white petals. Finally, he gently inserted the hairpin into the center of one of the buns. Just as he let go, Zora seemed to have fallen asleep; losing her support, she leaned back and bumped into the boy’s stomach.

The posture of leaning against someone seemed like an intimate trust, especially given that the covenant had been triggered today, making him feel a momentary sense of displacement.

Vane pursed his lips and pressed his hands on her shoulders. "Wake up."

Her leaning back allowed him to clearly see her forehead, the bridge of her nose, her lashes, and her slightly rounded cheeks.

Before Vane could call her again, Zora woke up on her own. She straightened her body and rubbed her eyes. "Too slow. Be faster next time."

Vane: "..."

Next time.

She touched the buns on the sides of her head, and the dangling blue ribbons drifted to her chest.

Vane watched for a moment, suddenly realizing he had almost forgotten what he had been worried about today. Or rather, in the presence of this master of his, his deliberate thoughts and malicious speculations seemed to never have time to surface.

Was it because it was too peaceful?

"What is this?" Zora stood up and turned around, touching the wooden flower on the hairpin again.

Having styled her hair in a youthful way, she gained a hint of a pitiful and lovely air. She wasn't a vivacious person, and no outward emotions could be seen on her face; she seemed to be in a daze, yet she possessed a unique, pure quality.

Vane looked at the hairpin.

"It’s a daisy."