Chapter 874: Playing the Zither

Chapter 874: Playing the Zither

Zhao Changhe had once believed that to take Baoqin simply out of desire—whether by claiming her after some event or inviting her for a "refill" following a night with Wan Zhuang—would be deeply unfair to the young maid. So he had waited for a better moment.

Yet thirty years passed, and he had turned her into a veritable "husband-waiting stone."

Now, on this day, to meet her and immediately demand bed without a word seemed somewhat unsightly.

But that was his perspective... The crux of the matter lay in how she perceived it.

Even back then, Baoqin herself had longed for that "refill"... He thought it unfair, but she had always felt otherwise. From childhood, she had been groomed as a chambermaid, a role so deeply ingrained that even now, as she stood independently as the Chief Clerk of the Prime Minister's Residence, handling official affairs, that early consciousness remained unchanged.

Now, regardless of what Zhao Changhe thought, Baoqin would not let this night slip away.

Otherwise, given the current situation, they should have crossed the river directly to Gusu to find Tang Buqi, not stayed overnight in Yangzhou... This arrangement for lodging had long revealed what the Chief Clerk was scheming in private.

This was an exceedingly rare moment of solitude—not a refill, not an afterthought, but true solitude. Moreover, it was his first since his revival, which counted as a first in its own right, didn't it?

This was something she had never even dreamed of back then. Baoqin absolutely adored this maritime audit mission; it allowed her to be close to him, with only a little girl by her side who posed no competition at all, fit only to keep watch. Baoqin had even tested the waters a couple of times to be sure there was truly no rivalry.

The Chief Clerk had specially instructed the Yangzhou prefect and secretly ordered Wan Dongliu to guard the night in Yangzhou so tightly that not even a fly could get in. The upper and lower echelons of Yangzhou thought it was for the Sacred Blade Longque, but Wan Dongliu guessed that what Baoqin truly sought was indeed Longque—just not the one everyone imagined.

Now, with everything in place, if anyone dared to disturb this night, Baoqin would absolutely strap herself with thunderclap bombs and blow them all to kingdom come.

Zhao Changhe carried Baoqin inside and saw the room bathed in warm candlelight. In the center stood a bathtub just placed by the maids, rose petals scattered on the water's surface, the atmosphere saturated with romance.

Zhao Changhe looked down at the little maid in his arms with a half-smile. Baoqin, somewhat nervous, buried her face in his chest, afraid that her obvious eagerness would be mocked by her master.

Knowing full well what the little maid was thinking, Zhao Changhe deliberately said, "How did you know that after waking up, I wanted nothing more than a good hot bath?"

Baoqin replied joyfully, "Baoqin is the most professional maid there is!"

Zhao Changhe set her down and spread his arms. "Then... undress your master?"

Blushing, Baoqin moved behind him, reached around to untie his sash, her small hands trembling slightly.

Even though she wanted this herself, it was still so shameful.

The sash loosened, the outer robe fell away, and the man's muscular frame seemed ready to burst through his undergarments. Baoqin leaned against his back, gently stroking him, her heart pounding.

This was the mighty body she had dreamed of so many times... When he was with her mistress, she had secretly watched—the explosive force he exerted on that body, and how her mistress, usually ethereal and pure, became so enchantingly pliant in those moments, was almost unbelievable.

How many times had she fantasized that it was herself beneath him, instead of her mistress?

Lost in a daze, she felt her own belt somehow come undone, her robes falling open, a coolness brushing her skin.

His voice came from beside her ear: "Your master will undress you too."

Baoqin instinctively crossed her arms over her chest, but then felt herself spun around and lifted, placed into the tub.

Baoqin: "?"

Zhao Changhe climbed in as well, gently pulling her hands away from her chest. "Shouldn't you be scrubbing your master clean?"

Baoqin felt her face was hotter than the bathwater, burning all the way to her ears. Her usual sharp tongue had fled to some unknown corner, leaving only instinctive movements as she lowered her head and began to scrub him, each stroke matching the rhythm of her racing heart.

She had longed for this for so long—why was she still so nervous? Baoqin wanted to strangle her useless self.

As for scrubbing, there was really nothing to scrub... Their cultivation had long rendered them free of dust; no matter how hard she rubbed, nothing came off. It was less about cleaning and more about flirtation.

As she scrubbed, her breathing grew rapid, her mind a blank... The thought that surfaced most was the seductive expression her mistress wore when being conquered.

If Tang Wanzhuang knew that she served as Baoqin's role model and teacher, she might be so angry she'd dismiss the maid.

In her daze, Zhao Changhe's voice came again: "Your little hands have no strength. Better let your master wash you instead."

Baoqin felt herself held like a child, back against his chest, as his large hands moved over her. Every glide across her skin sent a shudder through her.

Hmm... perhaps not like a child, but like playing a zither.

Her body needed no washing either—warm spring water, skin like congealed fat, smooth as jade. Today's Baoqin, with her improved cultivation, had skin even more ethereal and jade-like than in years past, no longer that of an ordinary maid.

"Remember this..." His whisper continued, enchanting her heart: "You're no little maid now. I am serving the Chief Clerk..."

Baoqin wanted to retort... How strange—when a woman washes a man, it's service; when a man washes a woman, it only feels like being fondled...

But somehow, a silencing spell had struck her, and she couldn't voice the complaint.

Still, since he was willing to say such things, Baoqin's heart softened, so soft that she was willing to be fondled in any way he pleased, however he wanted.

"It's better if Baoqin serves you, master..." She turned her head slightly, her starry, hazy eyes gazing at his face, her lips slightly parted as if seeking a kiss.

Zhao Changhe leaned down and kissed her. The little maid's sharp tongue, usually so biting, had no place here. However tough she was normally, now she was all softness and sweetness.

All that could be heard was her murmured words: "Take me, master... Baoqin has waited... so long..."

Zhao Changhe lifted her slightly in his arms. Baoqin sensed something and closed her eyes, kissing him even more fiercely.

Unnoticed, one more rose petal appeared among the bathwater.

...

Ling Ruoyu was in another courtyard, quite far away. She couldn't hear the sounds of indulgence from there and dared not eavesdrop, but she could guess what was happening. Even trying to meditate and review the battles of the past two days, she couldn't focus.

So disgusting.

Really—she had thought he was such a respectable senior, and she such an admirable Chief Clerk. And this was what they were? Nothing but a pair of dogs and bitches?

When she saw her master, she would definitely tattle and tell her to stay far away from such a dog of a man. And he dared to covet her master? She'd smash his head in.

But then again, wasn't it said that heroes are naturally romantic? Her most admired King Zhao was legendary for his amorous affairs. History recorded his wedding with Chief Cui, but his rumored lovers included the current Empress and even the Empress Dowager, as well as Chancellor Tang, and supposedly her own master, and the Queen of Dali. There were even rumors of an ancient demon god. His scandals spanned past and present, across the entire realm.

But the tales were all vague; no one dared to spread such gossip about such great figures—it would be death. Ling Ruoyu also didn't want to believe that the hero who had shed his blood for the realm could be so lecherous. The Empress and Empress Dowager, of all things—what nonsense was that?

Leaving aside the Empress Dowager, Ling Ruoyu did think there was a real possibility between King Zhao and her master. They had been on the same Hidden Dragon Ranking, heroes of the same era—surely they had some connection? Once, she had secretly asked her master if she was one of the legendary Zhao princesses. But somehow, she had triggered some keyword; her master's face had immediately stiffened, and she was punished by practicing the Sunset Sword Technique several times. Since then, she never dared to ask again.

Ah, right—the past between King Zhao and her master—Longque would surely know.

The gossipy girl excitedly opened her eyes, grabbed the Longque blade lying beside her.

Longque was lounging boredly when she felt herself being picked up and shaken: "Queque, Queque."

Longque suddenly felt the same annoyance she had once felt from a certain companion: So noisy...

She jumped away disdainfully, shaking Ling Ruoyu off: "Are we that close? Who are you calling Queque?"

Ling Ruoyu was taken aback. Why had she called her that? Were they that familiar?

Wait... this scene felt oddly familiar...

Collecting herself, Ling Ruoyu smiled apologetically: "Um, I wanted to ask about King Zhao's stories."

Longque perked up instantly: "That I know well. What do you want to hear? The tale of how he beheaded enemy generals with my help, or how he escaped death thanks to me? Let me tell you, without me, Longque, Zhao Changhe would be nothing but a weakling!"

"...I asked about King Zhao's story, not yours."

"How can his story be separated from me? What battle did he ever fight without me? Except for that little bit of archery, and that little bit of sneaky attacks with Star River... Let me tell you, don't think Star River is aloof—she's only good for stabbing people in the backside. It's me, Longque, who faces the enemy head-on, majestic and mighty."

I wasn't asking about Star River either... But somehow, Ling Ruoyu instinctively retorted: "Star River Sword shouldn't be like that..."

Don't think I don't know—from the bits my master has let slip, Star River Sword is of a higher grade than you, Longque. King Zhao only uses Star River as a supplementary weapon because he prefers an overwhelming, domineering style. Using you suits him better, but that doesn't mean Star River is inferior to you, Longque... I never thought you, with your honest face, would badmouth your companion behind her back...

"How is it not like that?" Longque put her hands on her hips: "Do you understand Star River? Do you understand Zhao Changhe? If you do, why are you asking me?"

Ling Ruoyu felt guilty and could only scratch her head: "Fine..."

"Say it: 'Star River is only good for stabbing people in the backside.' If you don't say it, don't expect me to tell any stories."

Ling Ruoyu said reluctantly: "Star River is only good for stabbing people... No, that's too crude. Can't I just not say it?"

"Is there any son of the jianghu who doesn't curse?" Longque pointed out. "That so-called Prince Zhao of yours, when he was the chief of a mountain stronghold, his mouth was filthier than anyone's. It was only later, to woo Tang Wanzhuang, that he started cultivating his character and turned himself into a suave gentleman—even fooling himself..."

So he really did woo Tang Wanzhuang... Ling Ruoyu's idol crumbled halfway in her heart. She asked cautiously, "The legend says Prince Zhao once ran with bandits and was a mountain outlaw—it's actually true?"

"How could it be false? He even had a bandit queen."

"A bandit queen? Who?"

"Yue Hongling..."

As if a thunderbolt struck her head, Ling Ruoyu turned to stone.

Her idol had completely crumbled, and even the lofty image of her revered master had lost all its dignity.

"Hey? Lingling? Ruoruo? Yuyu? Are you listening?" Longque leaped out of the blade in surprise, waving a hand before Ling Ruoyu's face. "Hey, don't tell me you're secretly in love with my master, fighting with your master over a man until your brain's addled?"

"Who—who said that?" Ling Ruoyu snapped awake and jumped to her feet. "He's just a hero I admire from afar. I've never even seen him—what secret love are you talking about!"

"Then why do you care so much about his story?"

"Prince Zhao's story—who in the whole Great Han doesn't care?" Ling Ruoyu said with a look of disdain. "I just feel his name sounds especially familiar. I used to think it was because I admired a hero, but now it seems it's because he's my master's husband..."

"His name sounds especially familiar to you?" Longque suddenly asked.

"Yes."

Longque pointed at her own nose with great interest. "What about me? Do I look familiar?"

Ling Ruoyu shot her a disdainful glance.

Longque fumed. "What's that look supposed to mean?"

"Disgust—ah, no, it's of course a look of familiarity." Ling Ruoyu forced a smile. "After all, you were my master's war blade."

Longque fell silent. The twin-tailed loli rested her chin on two fingers, scrutinizing Ling Ruoyu from head to toe. After a long while, she said, "Say it: Xinghe is a small fry."

Ling Ruoyu: "?"

"If you don't say it, I'm going to sleep."

"Xinghe is..." Ling Ruoyu struggled for a long time but couldn't force the words out. "My master said a swordsman shouldn't gossip behind others' backs. I'm afraid I can't obey."

"When your master gossiped about Xia Chichi behind her back, why didn't she say she was a swordsman then?"

Ling Ruoyu clutched her hair in distress, her worldview beginning to collapse.

"Wait, just because you say my master is a bandit queen doesn't make it so. Even if she was, she might not be anymore. My master is as pure as a lotus from Tianshan, as proud as a lone swan at sunset, with a clear sword heart and an iron backbone. How could she be what you say..."

"Fine, fine, go dream on your own." Longque glanced once more at the disheveled girl, then slipped back into the blade and fell silent.

How strange... There's no trace of similar aura, not even the same temperament—except for being a bit dim-witted.

But in this world, besides Longque, is there any girl who isn't dim? That's a common trait. Indeed, only Longque is the smartest.

...

The sky was just beginning to lighten.

Zhao Changhe carefully shifted Baoqin, who was clinging to him like an octopus, and got up to dress.

Last night had been rather tragic. Baoqin was just an ordinary maid, no martial prodigy—her talent was middling at best, and her cultivation progress was slow. She hadn't even reached the Imperial Realm. Her frail body could hardly withstand Zhao Changhe's current vigor. In the end, it was only thanks to her innate skill—the art of the tongue—that she barely managed to satisfy him, then collapsed from exhaustion and fell asleep.

So really, she was most suited to being with Wanzhuang... Wanzhuang's body was also delicate and needed assistance. Perfect...

Now the little maid was still in a deep sleep, not yet awake... The energy from their dual cultivation was circulating on its own. He wondered if it could help her break through to the Imperial Realm overnight. After all, reaching the Imperial Realm required finding one's own path—what path would she find...

He had gotten up early because he sensed someone approaching from afar—it was Wan Dongliu.

Old Wan was an old friend. After a long separation, the man had been considerate enough not to disturb his beautiful night. If he still avoided meeting him the next morning, that would be too much of a womanizer. They definitely had to have breakfast together and catch up, exchanging information.

Sure enough, as soon as he had tidied up and stepped into the courtyard, he saw Wan Dongliu standing outside with wine and pastries. Zhao Changhe smiled, opened the gate, and pulled him inside to sit. "Long time no see... You've broken through to the Imperial Realm, so why are your temples still gray?"

"Because they were already gray when I broke through." Wan Dongliu stroked his beard and sighed. "Not everyone can cultivate as fast as you. And even you needed to re-cultivate to eliminate hidden dangers."

"I was too fast in the Imperial Three Realms. If it were just the Imperial Realm, I wouldn't have needed to dismantle and rebuild. Otherwise, what about Hongling and the others?" Zhao Changhe poured him a cup of wine and smiled. "What brings you here so early?"

"What, did I interrupt your night of passion with your chambermaid?"

"Don't say that... Baoqin is now a chief clerk too."

"Only you have such egalitarian thoughts. Others don't buy it, and neither does she." Wan Dongliu laughed. "Sometimes you're too stubborn. Haven't you gotten over it after all this time?"

Zhao Changhe smiled. "Some things ingrained in me since childhood are hard to change."

"It's precisely because of that spirit that you aim for the Heavenly Dao? Because of that pride, nothing can stand above us and dictate our lives."

"You already know?"

"After all, I'm one of the core members of the Four Symbols Sect. We have to know about the Night Emperor—both the ancient one and you." Wan Dongliu smiled. "Xinghe appeared in the Eastern Sea. That news was spread by my Water Transport Guild. It's a trap. Taking advantage of Buqi's birthday banquet, when heroes gather, something will happen... The two venerables have been planning for a long time. With you here, it's even better."

Zhao Changhe laughed. "So the real mastermind behind the demon cult is still the Four Symbols Sect..."

"Ha..."

"But you're saying you don't actually know where the real Xinghe is?"

"The Xinghe that's about to appear in the Eastern Sea is indeed Xinghe, but only the sword's shell. The Black Tortoise Venerable investigated and said the sword spirit is gone. One major reason we set this trap is to lure the sword spirit."

"One reason..."

"Yes, of course, one stone, many birds. There are other ideas too. If we can't lure the sword spirit, we'll lure the demons of this age and see what they plan to do with Xinghe. After all, it's just an empty shell—no real consequences. We'll be the mantis stalking the cicada, watching from behind... Actually, Chief Clerk Baoqin knows quite a bit. The pouch she carries has some important tasks, but it seems you two were so absorbed in your union that you forgot about business?"

"Creak..." The door behind them opened. Baoqin, her hair done up in a married woman's bun, walked out leisurely.

The way she had styled her bun was as if she wanted the whole world to know—much like the Empress's habit of touching her belly.

Wan Dongliu twitched his cheek but said nothing. Baoqin approached gracefully, refilled Zhao Changhe's wine, and muttered, "The master didn't ask... Anyway, there's always time to tell him. I was going to say it this morning. Since you know so much, you tell him..."