sinovels Chapter 42 Bedroom Talk
Chapter 42 Bedroom Talk
At midnight, the night was deep, and the fire in the courtyard had long been extinguished.
Wang Xiaocao carefully made the bed for Shen An, smoothing out the last wrinkles on the bedding, before tiptoeing back to her own room, carrying a faint scent of soap.
Pushing open the door, in the dim candlelight, Qu Feiyan was already lying on the inside of the bed, turned to the side, facing the wall, leaving only her back visible.
She said she would be staying at Bailianfang for a few days, and since she had already taken the only guest room in the inner courtyard, she would have to make do with sharing a room with her.
To be honest, Wang Xiaocao was quite happy. Was this what the book called "bedroom talk"?
She gently took off her coat, blew out the candle, and, using the dim moonlight filtering through the window, slowly groped her way to lie down.
It was a little cold under the covers, but it couldn't dampen the warmth in her heart.
This was the first time Wang Xiaocao had heard the young master speak so much, and the first time she had been able to stare at his face so openly and without any pretense. Compared to that, the fascinating story itself didn't seem so important.
She would probably listen with this much focus if Shen An were to lecture on advanced mathematics.
As Wang Xiaocao reflected on everything that had happened that day, in the darkness, she finally stopped suppressing the slight upturn of her lips.
But... the usually lively and spirited Miss Qu beside her was unusually quiet tonight. Wang Xiaocao remembered that in the latter half of the story, she gradually fell silent, only her bright eyes remaining open, lost in thought.
Perhaps she was tired of listening to stories, Wang Xiaocao thought.
Just as she was drifting off to sleep, Qu Feiyan beside her tossed and turned like a pancake, unable to fall asleep.
"Little Grass, are you asleep?" Qu Feiyan's muffled voice came from the darkness.
"Not yet, Miss Qu," Wang Xiaocao replied softly.
"Oh, please don't call me Miss Qu anymore, just call me Feifei, or even 'little sister' is fine too." Qu Feiyan turned over to face her, her eyes shining brightly in the darkness. "I...I have something to ask you."
"Qu... Feifei, tell me."
Qu Feiyan hesitated for a long time, seemingly making a difficult decision, before finally gritting her teeth and asking in a low voice, "Xiao Cao, don't you think... today's story was a little... a little strange?"
"Strange?" Wang Xiaocao asked, puzzled. "I think it sounds great."
"It's not a matter of whether it sounds good or bad..." Qu Feiyan's voice trailed off as she spoke, "I've heard that some people make up stories based on their own experiences. Do you think Shen An might..."
Qu Feiyan is now a little embarrassed to continue calling him "Brother An".
"Personal experience?" Wang Xiaocao was a little confused as to why she would think that. "You mean, Young Master, you created Guo Jing based on your own experiences?"
"Yes, that's it!" Qu Feiyan nodded hurriedly.
Wang Xiaocao couldn't help but laugh, and whispered:
"How could that be? Guo Jing is so honest and simple-minded, he's so different from you, young master."
"Oh dear, I wasn't talking about personality!" Qu Feiyan was getting a little anxious. She simply sat up, leaned close to Wang Xiaocao's ear, and poured out all her shocking discoveries like beans spilling from a bamboo tube.
She recounted her experiences—how she disguised herself as a village girl at the foot of the mountain, how she first met Shen An, how she received the green robe, how she asked for the sword, how she ate beggar's chicken, and how she helped him obtain the secret manual—one thing at a time, in a fast and urgent manner.
"...Think about it, Huang Rong disguised herself as a beggar, and I disguised myself as a village girl! Guo Jing gave me clothes, and Brother An also gave me clothes! Huang Rong wanted a horse, and I wanted a sword! And there was that beggar's chicken! Most importantly, Huang Rong helped Guo Jing learn martial arts, and I also helped Brother An get the martial arts manual!"
"This...this is so similar! Do you think Brother An...is he using this story to secretly tell me...that he...he has feelings for me?"
As she spoke the last sentence, her voice became barely audible, filled with the shyness and uncertainty unique to young girls, a mixture of anticipation and fear.
After saying these words, Qu Feiyan felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her heart, and she let out a long sigh of relief, feeling completely at ease.
Wang Xiaocao could no longer laugh.
She felt as if all her strength had been drained, and she couldn't remember how she answered or dealt with the situation afterward.
Fortunately, after sharing her own conjectures and worries, Qu Feiyan felt much more relaxed and soon fell into a deep sleep with a hint of sweet confusion, unaware of Wang Xiaocao's abnormality.
She felt relieved.
But Wang Xiaocao, who was lying next to her, couldn't fall asleep no matter what.
In the darkness, she stared blankly at the pitch-black roof with her large eyes wide open.
Every word Qu Feiyan uttered was like a slow, agonizing death to her.
She deduced and reconstructed the entire process from Qu Feiyan's words.
The closer she got to the truth, the more her heart ached.
So... that's how it is?
It turns out that those seemingly warm and comforting memories, in Miss Qu's words, actually had a completely different meaning.
It turns out that Miss Qu arrived first.
So, the young master's miraculous rescue that day was actually something he did casually after meeting Miss Qu?
So, the young master's kindness towards me, and letting me listen to stories together, were all just... incidental?
Was his true affections actually focused on Miss Qu? Was the story he told, about the clever and beautiful girl in white named Huang Rong, based on Miss Qu?
Why did it turn out this way?
For the first time, I made a good friend.
This was the first time I listened to the young master tell stories all night long.
These two happy things have come together, something I would never have dared to dream of.
But why did it turn out like this?
Wang Xiaocao bit her lip hard, silently swallowing her tears.
At the hour of Chou (1-3 AM), the roof tiles shimmered with light, their clear glow reflecting the night.
Although the moonlight had not yet faded, human activity had almost ceased, making this the quietest time of day in Hengyang City.
Outside the Hundred Refinements Workshop, a very faint black shadow silently blended into the shadows of the courtyard.
There was no sound of wind, no footsteps, not even the slightest fluctuation of aura. The figure, like a ghost, leaped through the window and appeared in Shen An's room in a few bounds.
The whole process was smooth and effortless, as light as a breeze.
The room was completely quiet.
Shen An lay on his side on the bed, his breathing steady and long, seemingly fast asleep. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows on him, making his handsome face appear exceptionally peaceful even in his sleep.
The dark figure stood silently in front of the bed, about to speak, but suddenly his gaze sharpened.
The moment he appeared, Shen An on the bed paused his breathing almost imperceptibly.
The newcomer raised an eyebrow slightly; had he actually been discovered? Or was it just a coincidence?
He stood there calmly, watching Shen An maintain his seemingly sound asleep posture, his breathing unchanged. His right hand, extremely slowly, inch by inch, reached under the pillow.
How could this be? The shadowy figure felt a chill run down his spine, utterly bewildered as to how he had sensed it, before finally exclaiming in admiration.
What keen awareness!
He was confident that his stealth skills were such that even an ordinary sect leader might not be able to detect him immediately in his sleep unless he was a top expert like Zuo Lengchan or Ren Woxing.
Shen An, surprisingly, was able to instantly awaken from his utter lack of murderous intent and prepare for a counterattack. This skill and composure were truly unlike that of a twenty-year-old.
It seems I underestimated him.