Chapter Forty-Nine: Feeling Parched Just Looking at Master

When I returned with the water, I found Violet Lotus standing just as he had when I left, quietly beneath the broad-leaved tree, gazing into the distance, his eyes fixed on some curiosity only he could see.

The afternoon sun was scorching, but it seemed to have little effect on him. A gentle breeze stirred, making the leaves rustle, and he stood there in the deep green shade, his violet robes and light gauze fluttering, exuding a trace of allure and melancholy that, for a moment, seemed to drain the world of all color.

Violet Lotus and I were both born of water, he from the lotus, I from the fish. Yet I could never understand why he endured the blazing sun with such ease, while I always felt oppressed by its heat, longing to escape its glare and return to the cool embrace of water.

Perhaps he heard my footsteps as I approached. He turned to look at me, lips parting slightly, as if he were about to call my name.

“Master.”

I lifted my head and gave him a radiant smile, quickening my pace toward him with the water jug in hand.

“Little Fish, did you fetch the water?” he asked, his eyes falling on the jug I carried, a hint of amusement flickering in his gaze.

“Yes, Master!” I replied, stepping closer and extending the jug toward him.

“It seems there are indeed some benefits to taking on a disciple,” he remarked with a trace of pride, accepting the jug and tilting his head back to drink. His Adam’s apple moved noticeably as he swallowed, made all the more prominent by the angle.

Hadn’t he just drunk water? And it was a whole jug. Yet watching him drink made my own throat inexplicably parched, and I couldn’t help but lick my lips to moisten them.

After he finished, he lowered his head, glanced at me, and frowned. He handed the jug back, saying, “I know you respect your master and understand the Way, but you mustn’t neglect yourself. In this heat, you should drink some water too.”

So that was it—he thought I’d rushed to fetch water for him without quenching my own thirst. Now, as he offered the jug, he meant for me to drink as well.

“Thank you, Master.” Since he was finally showing me some concern, I didn’t care how much water I’d already had. I took the jug from his hand and drank. As my lips touched the rim, my heart fluttered at the thought that his lips had just been there, their warmth and lingering fragrance still present, leaving a cool, fragrant trace at the corner of my mouth.

“Are you done?” he prompted, as I stood there, still lost in thought.

Truthfully, I’d already had my fill, and was only drinking now for his sake. At his urging, I set the jug down with a satisfied smile and said, “Master, Little Fish is full.”

“Full?” He couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to pat my head. “Since you’re full, let’s hurry on. If we don’t reach the market by nightfall, we’ll have to sleep in the wild.”

With that, he turned and continued on the path.

“Yes, Master! Little Fish will hurry,” I called after him, tucking the jug into my belt and scampering after him, eager to keep up.