Chapter 113: Happier Than Me

He did not move.

In fact, he didn't move for the entire night.

In the middle of the night, Zora complained in her sleep because the person she was leaning against was too stiff, and only then did the youth relax his body.

He must have been thinking many, many things.

But throughout this night, he thought of nothing; his mind was a total blank.

In his fantasies, the moment Zora knew that kind of emotion was called "liking," she would say it directly.

To her, there was no difficulty in doing so.

Zora originally possessed these feelings; now, simply attaching a name to them was not hard.

But when it all actually happened, Vane felt as if his entire being was placed upon a fire to burn, turning into bone ash in an instant.

Even if she fell asleep right after speaking without a care.

Even if she seemingly had no intention of defining the relationship.

No promises, no responsibilities—she easily tossed his heart up into the air, letting it float lightly into the clouds, yet she withdrew her hand and stopped caring for it.

Vane was not dissatisfied.

He was still immersed in the light, airy fantasy, even if he might eventually fall and be smashed into pieces.

No one taught her how to like someone, nor was she willing to listen entirely to others.

If the surrounding environment silently influences a person—especially the environment one grows up in—then one would know that she would surely define love as simply finding someone pleasing to the eye, following her heart a few times, and parting when she grew bored, with no sense of shame to speak of.

It was just that it was very noisy, and very dangerous.

The next day, there was no major change in their interaction.

They were only a bit closer. He would always slowly take another step. Initially, when wiping her fingertips, the youth would do so properly and meticulously, without any transgression.

But now, he would inadvertently rub the side of her fingers with his warm fingertips.

Zora glanced at him but didn't mind.

So, the next time, Vane would reach out and gently grasp her wrist, pressing against the back of her hand to support her while his other hand was free to wipe.

Those seemingly accidental brushes held no disgusting urgency; instead, they were slow and hidden with love. His features held a hidden edge, and even now, as he appeared submissive on the surface, he couldn't suppress that sharp spirit, making one’s face flush and heart race.

He would even proactively and tentatively hold her hand after her matches ended.

He would even smile and take her hand the moment her gaze landed on it; before she could generate curiosity and act on her muddled heart, he would take the initiative to draw close, offering himself up, always taking it one step further without exception.

This was not a transgression.

This was him understanding her feelings, understanding how to please and entice her.

It was also him adding the label of "lover" to his identity as a "servant" and seriously putting it into practice.

Zora was indeed quite curious about his changes.

Clearly just a physical touch, yet it could trigger a series of reactions.

The youth had thin calluses on the webbing of his thumb; they weren't rough, but they tickled when they brushed against her palm, and her heart felt itchy too.

Zora looked down, tightened her grip, and squeezed the webbing of his hand.

Vane turned his head, his long lashes lowered.

Zora met his gaze.

"..."

"..."

Without a word, he gave her a gentle smile.

Zora continued to look at him, but couldn't help but squeeze the webbing of his hand again.

This was liking.

When night fell, he never slept; he always sat by the table, either reading or repairing her hairpins bit by bit.

The Demon Realm had no established vendors, let alone elegantly styled hair accessories. Those were usually ordered by powerful demonic cultivators for themselves or their lovers; ordinary people didn't sell such things, selling food and clothing at most.

Zora's hair ribbons were either blue or white; she wouldn't take them off when she slept because it was too troublesome and complicated.

She knew Vane would handle it when she woke up anyway. He would carefully remove the ribbons that had become more tangled from sleep; the ribbons were entwined with her black hair, yet he could untangle them quickly and bit by bit without causing her a shred of pain.

On the very night she squeezed his hand, Vane asked, "Do you need me to take them off for you?"

He posed the question.

Zora had just taken off her shoes and sat on the bed to let out a yawn. "Okay."

Vane stepped forward, standing by the bed and blocking the candlelight. The shadow spread from the edge of the bed and her feet peeking out from the quilt, gradually reaching her face.

The youth untied her ribbons bit by bit. Without the messy entanglement that follows a night’s sleep, they came off faster this time. Her twin buns came undone, and her black hair fell loose, merging with the hair draped behind her head.

Once the ribbons were off, his hands did not leave.

The youth’s long fingers seemed to merely smooth her hair as a finishing service.

In the past, he would be careful not to touch her skin, only following the strands of her hair.

Now, however, he would lightly brush against the skin beneath her hair.

There was no sense of offense; rather, he seemed more like an upgraded, autonomous servant, doing everything extra to make her more comfortable.

It was indeed very comfortable.

Zora lazily squinted her eyes, half-closing them.

But even after she lay down, he still didn't leave. Zora glanced at him, her face drowsy, speaking almost casually: "Have you become more clingy lately?"

So clingy that she felt there was physical contact throughout the entire day.

Small, non-offensive touches that put her in a good mood.

Vane crouched on one knee by the bed, shortening the distance between them. His sharp features were currently turned away from the candle, shrouded in shadows and appearing indistinct, yet his tone was gentle.

"Have I become overconfident?" he asked softly.

"What?" Zora didn't understand what he was talking about.

Vane paused.

That meant his "taking an inch and wanting a mile" was within Zora's range of acceptance and didn't displease her.

After all, they would always have the layer of a master-servant relationship; it was an insurmountable bond.

He shifted his words, changing the topic naturally: "...Is it because you said... you liked me, Zora?"

Zora thought for a moment. "Mhm, right."

The youth smiled, his tone normal as he said, "So as a servant, I will do things that make you happy."

His feelings wouldn't drive him too close, but knowing Zora's shallow affection, as an excellent servant, it was only right to cater to it.

Before she drew close because of her liking, he had already made the move, allowing Zora to enjoy it lazily.

...Even if he had his own selfish motives, they were always restrained on the shore, staring fixedly at a point in the deep sea. His dark eyes would leak thick, heavy thoughts, yet his form remained firmly fixed, as if tethered by iron chains, not stepping forward lest he fall and be unable to return.

Vane asked again, "Do you like it?"

He looked at her, seemingly just an ordinary youth of the mortal world, showing normal adoration without a hint of gloom.

Zora thought for a moment and said, "I like it."

With a stir of intent, she reached her hand out from the quilt, and Vane leaned forward to meet her soft palm.

His eyes curved slightly as his face pressed against her palm.

Zora didn't let her hand linger on his face for long. Her gaze was pure, yet her fingertips moved downward, brushing across his neck.

Yet she still seriously sought confirmation: "So that’s why those people are so keen on rolling together."

"..." His lashes lowered slightly.

When she reached the middle of his neck, Vane silently unfastened his collar, as if clearing the path for her.

"...Perhaps so."

He didn't mention that most people were merely following desire without affection.

The shadows at his collarbone were deep, as if trapped there. The youth's skin was fair, yet there were clear contours, without a hint of frailty. Instead, it harbored strength and a startling explosive power; the smooth lines between the muscles were slightly recessed, highlighting his perfectly proportioned musculature.

"...Mhm."

She wasn't curious about other parts of his body at all; Zora was only ever curious about the parts of him that were exposed.

His handsome face, his hands that were much larger than hers, and his hair that was so easy to pull.

She seemed to have never thought of anything deeper.

But Vane unfastened it himself, enticing her to realize and become curious.

Zora was merely taken aback, seeing that he had unfastened his collar, so she followed suit and stared at it.

The youth's body matched the impression of strength. Having practiced with a long spear for years, his hands had been stained with the blood of countless people, and he had once crushed a human skull with a single step.

He had never given up on physical tempering. Without needing spiritual power, relying solely on his physical body, he could withstand the strikes of spiritual tools and crush monsters.

At this moment, he was tense, his musculature more pronounced; when Zora poked his collarbone, he controlled himself to relax.

Consequently, the place she touched was soft and elastic.

The touch was actually very delicate, carrying the specific bones and skin of a youth. His hands were warm, but his body and chest were even hotter, nearly dyeing her cold fingertips with heat. Zora liked this, and her heartbeat quickened a bit.

But soon, Zora let out a confused "mhm."

She seemed to feel the thumping of his heart; it was beating so fast it reached her fingertips.

Her fingertips stopped, moving no further down.

Zora poked it twice without a shred of lust, seemingly checking the thickness of the skin over the heart.

Clearly there was significant contour, yet it still couldn't hide the heartbeat.

Zora looked up at him.

Vane pursed his lips and lowered his eyes, but the corners of his eyes were stained with a thin flush. He lowered his head further, the black strands of hair by his forehead swaying lightly. Despite his best efforts to endure and control his body, his breathing inadvertently grew heavy. The increasingly hot air entwined between the two, steaming the coldness of the night.

He sensed Zora's gaze, but waited a moment before steadying his expression and looking into her eyes.

Though the corners of his eyes still carried the thin flush of hidden excitement, and his expression was shrouded in a layer of subtle desire.

Zora said honestly, "You look even happier than me."

Vane: "...I'm sorry."