Chapter Thirty-One: Secretly Wearing the Master's Robes

"Uncle Master, Dudu isn't trying to guard against you."
Seeing me like this, Pink-cheeked Dudu grew a little anxious.
"But you won't hand the sect leader's robe to your Uncle Master. Little Dudu, acting like this, truly makes your Uncle Master sad."
Watching his little face flush red as he anxiously tried to explain, I feigned even deeper sorrow on my own face, wailing loudly a few times, wishing I could squeeze out a few tears to frighten him.
"Alright then," he finally seemed to make up his mind. He extended both hands forward, bowed to me, and said, "Then I'll entrust this robe to Uncle Master, and ask you to deliver it to the sect leader on Dudu’s behalf."
"Of course, of course, that's a promise."
I reached out with a grin, yet he dodged away again.
"What do you mean by this? If you're going to give it, then give it. If not, forget it!"
Back in the Demon Realm, those guardians who hid their treasures guarded against me like I was a thief. All because once I laid eyes on their prized possessions, they’d mysteriously find their way to my palace. Though they were reluctant, because of Chixiao, none dared to confront me and demand them back.
Fuming, I called out, truly at my wit’s end. If asking nicely didn't work, then I could always use force. After all, stealing things wasn't new to me, and even now, if I set out to snatch it, there was no way I could lose to this child.
Watching Dudu fidget, half willing and half unwilling, I grew only more impatient.
"Are you toying with me? If you won't give it, then forget it. My master hasn’t returned yet. You can just stand here and wait."
With that, I turned to leave.
"Dudu isn't refusing. There are just some things Dudu must make clear to Uncle Master first."
He spoke slowly and deliberately, making me so angry I nearly wanted to scream.
"What is it? Spit it out!"
I spun back around, standing right in front of Pink-cheeked Dudu.
Why all this fuss? All I wanted was to touch Zilian’s robe, maybe admire it for a bit—who could have guessed it would be so difficult?
With a solemn face, Dudu said, "Uncle Master, you must handle it gently, and never let it near water, lest you damage the fabric. And don’t touch the robe with your fingers—mortals have rough skin and callused hands. Don’t ruin the threads by rubbing them into fuzz."
He went on and on, as though he truly didn't trust me, and I nodded along absentmindedly. A mortal? I was no mortal—what nonsense about not being allowed to touch it?
Zilian’s robe—I wasn't just going to touch it. I was going to wear it.
As soon as Dudu left, I hurried back to Clearlight Pavilion, pushed open the door, and with a sweep of my sleeve shut it tightly behind me. I hugged Zilian’s robe and slipped into the room.
Quickly shedding my blue clothes, I donned the purple robe. Standing in front of the mirror, I examined myself closely. My black hair was loosely gathered with a blue ribbon, flowing smoothly down my neck like a gentle stream. When the breeze stirred, the dark tresses danced softly, dreamy and ethereal. The purple robe suited me perfectly—who would ever think me a little fish spirit? I looked just like an immortal newly descended to the mortal world.
The lotus flowers embroidered in gold on the fabric shimmered in the sunlight, noble yet dignified. I thought myself strikingly handsome. Surely, if all six realms held a pageant for beautiful men, this disguised young man could easily win first or second place.
And if I were only second, then the first could only be my Zilian.