DLOBML CHAPTER 23

Chapter 23 — Infuriating the Demonic Master to Death (14) | The Supporting Male Wants to Stir Up Trouble!

Calm down. She had to calm down. Panic would only get her killed.

Xing Ge drew a deep breath.

In a creepy, horror-movie setup like this, the moment you chickened out, your ending would be truly terrifying. She forced a casual smile. “Oh, right this second I suddenly remembered—”

The High Priest cast her a cool glance, noble and frost-bright. “You need the latrine? Urgent business? Your aunt is visiting?”

Xing Ge: “!!!”

F**k your mother!!! High Priest, you sound like you know all the tricks! I’m at least Nascent Soul. Can you please give me a shred of dignity to step down with?

Shock faded into thought.

Where had she heard those exact lines before?

Hmm… where?

The High Priest ignored her. His long sleeves drifted as he turned and stepped into the hut, vanishing into the darkness with an air of “come if you want.” Since when were “flower-vase cannon fodder” types this arrogant?

Given that, could Xing Ge back down?

Of course not, for a real man!

This master can get hard too, okay?

Ahem. Maybe not the most fitting phrasing. She mentally censored it.

In the blink of an eye, she was fully prepared: a few top-grade talisman slips tucked into her sleeve, spiritual power gathered in her palm. If anything went wrong, heh, she would show him exactly why flowers were so red.

The High Priest had lit the red wax on the beast-head lamp. Warm light spread through the gloom. On the desk a sheet of white xuan paper glowed pinkish; a jade qilin stood at the corner, head lifted as if to swallow the sky, majestic and grand.

Tsk tsk, now this is taste. Not like that Demon King who piled up whatever was expensive. Pure vulgarity.

“My humble abode is crude. Make yourself at home. I will fetch a change of clothes,” said the High Priest, voice still cool and distant. Robe trailing, he went up the loft ladder, leaving a faint, elegant fragrance behind.

Xing Ge almost clapped. Oh yeah, heaven is on my side!

She was just about to hitch up her hem and bolt when a chilling draft slipped through the crack of the door and rattled the desk. The stack of drafts beneath the xuan paper skittered and flipped to the floor.

Being a good citizen, Xing Ge bent to gather them up before leaving. Naturally, her eyes landed on certain not-for-children content sketched on the page, an elegant, tall man tying someone’s hands to the bedpost with a rope.

Xing Ge: “!!!”

—Holy sh** that is spicy.
—Holy sh** that is a forced-entry pose.
—Holy sh** I kind of love it, eek!

She touched her nose. Good. No nosebleed. She had not shamed the ancestors of the Xing clan.

Grinning wickedly, she shook open the second page. This one was even more blood-stirring. The two figures’ jade hair-crowns were tossed to the floor; long black hair pooled over the bed, tangled together, faintly veiling white skin.

Excellent. Keep this progression going. Do your best, artist!

She touched her nose again. Still no leakage. Her self-control was decent.

Honestly, making it big in the cultivation world was hard. In order to study good “moves,” she had developed a bad habit: whenever she saw a great technique, she wanted to imitate it. Ahem. This posture was a classic. She would keep it for later reference.

The deeper she flipped, the heavier the visual impact. The drafts were skillful, full of strength and heat. Xing Ge’s face glowed pink. Heh, someday I should have a real chat with the High Priest, maybe we share the same hobby.

By the seventh page, something felt wrong.

—Hold on. Why does that person look exactly like me?
—No, not “like me.” That is literally me, right?
—And the one being pinned down… why does he look more and more like the male lead?
—No way. That is the male lead!

Ten thousand alpacas stampeded through Xing Ge's heart.

She was in despair.

Could it be the “beautiful dream” she had that morning… was real?

Had she accidentally slept with the male lead?

Holy sht, holy sht, someone tell me this is not real!

At that moment, her usually unreliable brain flashed bright. A life-and-death question struck her.

Why the f*** would the High Priest paint their intimate scenes into scrolls?

The thought was terrifying the longer she considered it.

---

PREVIOUS           TOC           NEXT