Chapter Sixty: I Am a Little Flirtatious Fish

Fortunately, when I returned to the inn, everything was as it had been; I noticed no sign of anything amiss. The lamp in Zilian’s room remained unlit, and at this hour, he must have already fallen asleep.

The night wind was cold, gusting from time to time. I rubbed my hands together and crouched down to sit upon the threshold, keeping watch for Zilian.

The night was long, and though it was still early, I had no idea how much time remained until dawn. Bored and idle, I began drawing circles on the ground with my finger—one after another—yet still complained that time moved too slowly, and the wind was unbearably chill.

I do not know when it happened, but I drifted off to sleep without realizing it. When morning came and I awoke, I discovered I was not lying on the floor, but in Zilian’s bed.

“In Zilian’s bed?”

This realization startled me. My courage—no, audacity—was far too great, and worse yet, it was a shameless kind. I never knew I was so bold, so eager to take advantage of Zilian.

Was it because I liked him so much? I asked myself. Though I had succeeded in becoming his disciple, deep down I felt unsatisfied. The teacher-student relationship still kept me at a distance from him. So, in the night, while he slept, I unconsciously crept onto his bed, longing for a bond even more intimate than that of disciple and master.

Oh, how miserable I felt at this discovery!

So, I am but a little shameless fish.

I slowly turned over, and saw that the person sleeping to my left was indeed my master—the Immortal Lord Zilian. His face was serene, eyes closed, still fast asleep. His violet robes were neat and undisturbed; it seemed I had not done anything improper to him.

“Are you awake?”

Zilian’s voice suddenly sounded.

I was startled at first, but when I looked over at the sleeping Zilian beside me, his eyes remained tightly shut, motionless. I was puzzled—he hadn’t opened his mouth, so where had the voice come from?

“Since you’re awake, get out of bed, wash your face, and have breakfast,” Zilian’s voice continued.

“Master, master, what’s wrong? Why can’t your body move?”

I reached out to push the unmoving Zilian on the bed, anxiously asking. Could it be that his old wounds had returned? My heart ached; if Zilian were truly like this, how would we continue our journey among mortals, and how would I bring him back to Lingyun Mountain?

“I am here,” came his voice.

Footsteps sounded, and a faint lotus fragrance wafted toward me.

I looked up. Zilian was standing by the bed, holding a bowl of plain rice porridge, slowly eating, his gaze helplessly fixed on me.

“Master!” I looked up at Zilian standing by the bed, then glanced down at the Zilian lying beside me.

“Master, has your soul left your body? How is it your soul can eat rice porridge?”

Immortals were truly extraordinary! No wonder so many demons and spirits sought shortcuts to become immortals. Even if their soul left their body, immortals could live perfectly well as if nothing had happened.

Zilian’s expression darkened; he seemed displeased. With a turn of his sleeve, the Zilian beside me suddenly transformed into a purple lotus blossom, lying at my side.

“I am not so frail. The person on the bed is merely a substitute conjured from a purple lotus.”

“A substitute?”

So, Zilian had used an illusion.

I stuck out my tongue in embarrassment—thank goodness it wasn’t Chixiao who encountered this. If he had, he would surely scold me for neglecting my studies.