Chapter 38: The Master Who Can't Afford to Linger in Bed

The chubby little figure shuddered, then lifted his head and looked up at me with pitiful eyes. “No, that’s not it. Dudu didn’t come here today to bring clothes for the Sect Leader. Dudu came to bring clothes for Uncle-Master.”

Uncle-Master? Who is this Uncle-Master, suddenly appearing to compete with me for the clothes? My mind was full of questions. Who was this Uncle-Master he spoke of, and where did he come from? After some thought, I realized that, aside from Master, the only person left in the Azure Luan Hall who hadn’t received their ceremonial robe yet was me—the youngest Uncle-Master. It seemed likely that the Uncle-Master Dudu referred to was none other than myself.

“Is it me?” I pointed at myself and asked.

“Yes, it’s you, Little Uncle-Master.” Dudu nodded gravely at me, his cheeks pink and earnest.

This, this—this was almost too much happiness for a fish to bear.

I promptly snatched the robe from his hands, clutching it to my chest. Bowing my head, I examined the sleeves. Excellent, truly excellent: golden threads traced out flowers, silver filaments shimmered beneath, and to my surprise, the embroidered pattern was koi fish, lively and charming, just like my true form. On a silver lake, rippling gently, golden carp frolicked as if in play, each one vivid and spirited, making for a scene brimming with life.

Who could be so considerate, so attentive, to have koi fish embroidered on this robe? Hugging the garment, my heart brimmed with delight, and even Dudu seemed cuter than he had the day before.

“Dudu, do you know who embroidered these koi fish on the sleeves?” I asked with a gentle, affectionate smile.

Dudu’s shoulders twitched. For some reason, he took a step back, replying in a small voice, “Sister Caizhi.”

“Oh, Sister Caizhi, is it?”

I nodded, feeling as if I were a kindly old man coaxing a child with sweets.

“And who instructed Sister Caizhi to embroider these koi fish for me?”

“I don’t know.” Dudu blinked his large eyes and shook his head.

“Oh, never mind, then.”

I reached out to pat his small shoulder in reassurance. Even if I couldn’t get a definite answer from him, I could guess in my heart who it might be. Who else in the Purple Palace could know me so well? It must have been Zilian, who had asked Sister Caizhi to make this robe for me with the utmost care.

Clutching the robe, I was filled with joy, longing to rush indoors and change out of my blue robe at once, to don the purple one and see how I looked—would I be as dazzling as Zilian himself?

“Ah, I waited and waited and finally got this robe! Dear Dudu, your Uncle-Master thanks you from the bottom of his heart.”

I gave Dudu’s plump cheeks a few affectionate pinches, then found an excuse to send him on his way. As soon as he turned to leave, I dashed into my room, closed the door with a sweep of my sleeve, and hurried into the bedchamber to change.

The robe fit perfectly. Although the material wasn’t as fine as the one Zilian wore, it far surpassed the plain blue ones worn by my three hundred or so junior disciples. The fabric was soft, comfortable, and breathable. Though it looked like two layers, it actually felt lighter than my old brocade robe—sheer comfort.

I didn’t dare risk damaging such a fine garment. I ran my fingers gently along the hem, straightened the edges, and, full of excitement, clumsily folded my old robe and placed it carefully atop the wardrobe. Then, I strode out of Clearwater Pavilion, heading straight toward Zilian’s Biyun Tower.

“Master! Master!” I shouted several times outside Biyun Tower, unable to contain my excitement as I paced back and forth. I imagined the moment the door opened, how I would see Zilian, and wondered how I should act, what words I could use to express my joy.

But after pacing back and forth more than ten times, the door remained tightly shut. Zilian hadn’t come to open it. Could he still be asleep inside? But surely he wasn’t the sort of immortal to laze in bed. I stepped forward and knocked on the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound echoed, rhythmically, in my ears.

It seemed to mirror my own heart, beating wildly with excitement and anxiety, refusing to calm no matter what I did.

“Master, Master, it’s time to get up! Don’t forget, today you promised to take your little fish to the mortal world for a visit.”

Afraid he would forget, I called out to remind him.