Watching Fan Zhuo’s entire body freeze stiffly in the water, as if petrified, White Rabbit seemed to take it as tacit consent.
She took small, quick steps, circling from behind the bathtub to the front, then crouched down, bringing her gaze level with the water’s surface.
“Sir, please rest assured, White Rabbit will close her eyes, and… from behind, I won’t… overstep…”
She spoke while truly closing those beautiful blue eyes, her long lashes fluttering slightly.
Then, she extended those slender, foam-covered jade-like hands, slowly reaching out across the water’s surface…
Touch.
***
Ten minutes earlier, in the next room.
Lucien had just removed the tightly bound bandages that had been restraining him and calmed his racing heart.
Just thinking about the expression on Fan Zhuo’s face pressed so close to the door crack earlier made his chest tighten with unease.
That bastard… how much did he actually see?
He walked over to the desk, picked up the bottle of fragrance, hesitated for a moment, then pulled out the stopper and lightly sprayed twice into the air.
The elegant and gentle scent instantly filled the room, easing Lucien’s taut nerves slightly.
This was his only way to briefly regain a sense of “self.”
At that moment, he heard the door to the neighboring room open and close.
It was that Doll Maid named White Rabbit going inside.
Lucien’s brow furrowed slightly.
So late at night, a man and a woman alone in the same room? What kind of propriety was this!
He pricked up his ears, carefully listening to the sounds from next door.
However, to his surprise, after a few faint words exchanged at first, the room quickly fell into complete silence.
Not a sound could be heard.
Lucien found it strange.
Did those two just enter the room to stare silently at each other?
Moreover, that Doll Maid White Rabbit still hadn’t come out…
What exactly were they doing in there?
A ridiculous thought bubbled up uncontrollably but was quickly suppressed.
No, impossible! Fan Zhuo was a holy man after all, and he himself lived next door—he wouldn’t dare…
But… what if?
The more Lucien thought about it, the more uneasy he felt.
Suddenly, he thought of a method.
Although Fan Zhuo’s holy power was growing rapidly, it was impure and thus easy to detect.
As long as he carefully mobilized the far purer and stronger holy power within himself, he could use it like radar to roughly sense the fluctuations and location of Fan Zhuo’s energy.
Lucien closed his eyes, and a cold, vast holy power radiated from within him, silently permeating through the walls.
Soon, the outline of the neighboring room became clear in his perception.
On the chair—no one.
On the bed—no one.
Where had the person gone?
He expanded his perception’s range and eventually locked onto the bathroom’s direction.
Hmm?
He sensed a faint but steadily increasing wave of holy power drifting out from the bathroom door crack.
That energy… was Fan Zhuo’s.
And… it was still growing stronger?
What was going on? Was he cultivating in the bathroom?
Lucien felt baffled.
The bathroom walls were extremely thick, and his holy power perception barely penetrated them—he could only faintly detect that small leakage of energy from the door crack.
Lucien focused all his spirit, pressing his holy power perception like a thin membrane tightly against the bathroom door.
He could clearly feel the impure holy power inside growing stronger and more active…
Then, at a certain moment, the energy’s intensity suddenly surged to a peak…
***
Inside the bathtub.
“Sorry! Sorry, Sir! White Rabbit didn’t mean to!”
White Rabbit’s panicked apology rang in his ears.
Just now, with her eyes closed, she had been cautiously performing her “cleaning” work when her fingertips inadvertently brushed against…
Fan Zhuo felt as if a fuse in his brain had blown with a loud pop.
He snapped his eyes open and grabbed White Rabbit’s still “mischievous” wrist.
He could no longer endure this passive, back-turned, toy-like control!
Using his waist and abdomen strength, he sat up abruptly from the water, splashing water everywhere.
Then, pulling on White Rabbit’s hand, he forcibly spun the perfect Doll Maid—confused and panicked—around without a word!
“Boom!!!”
Lucien, sensing that energy explosion, kicked his own door open with a single blow!
He didn’t even have time to put on a coat—only a thin white silk nightgown draped over him.
His long silver hair flew wildly behind him as he charged like an arrow released from a bow straight at Fan Zhuo’s door!
Another loud crash!
Fan Zhuo’s poor wooden door shattered under his kick!
He stormed into the room, eyes sharp as lightning, immediately locking onto the source of the energy fluctuation—the bathroom.
Through the frosted glass door, he saw a blurry reflection.
The Doll Maid knelt on the floor, while Fan Zhuo’s figure loomed over her…
“Desecration! Sinner!”
Lucien’s reason was completely consumed by rage, leaving only one thought in his mind: to purify this disgrace who had sullied the honor of a holy man!
He raised the long leg sheathed in his silk nightpants again, kicking the bathroom door with all his might!
“Bang—!!!”
The bathroom door crashed down!
Amidst the mist and steam, the scene inside became clearly visible to him.
Then.
Lucien was stunned.
In the bathtub, Fan Zhuo was half-submerged, his head topped with a mound of shampoo foam still dripping water, staring at him with a terrified expression.
By the tub’s edge, Doll Maid White Rabbit sat properly on the anti-slip mat in a kneeling position, hands raised mid-air with foam-covered fingertips, equally shocked as she looked toward the door.
The two of them… were washing their hair.
Lucien’s mind went blank.
He glanced at the shattered bathroom door, then back at Fan Zhuo with foam on his head, and the Doll Maid kneeling on the ground covered in foam…
So… that earth-shattering energy explosion earlier… was just from washing hair?
The images he had imagined just now… wait, how could he have imagined such scenes…
This was desecration! It was sinful!
A wave of even stronger shame and anger than before instantly washed over him.
But the source of this fury wasn’t Fan Zhuo’s “fall,” but his own uncontrollable, filthy imagination!
“What… are you two doing?!”
He demanded harshly, trying to cover the burning redness on his cheeks and his wildly pounding heart with anger.
Fan Zhuo, his eyes smeared with shampoo foam and unable to see clearly, blinked hard to let some foam run down, then shouted angrily toward the blurry figure at the door:
“I’m washing my hair! You kicked down two of my doors?! Does being an Inquisitor mean you can do whatever you want?!”
“You…” Lucien was momentarily speechless, stifled by this righteous retort.
He knew.
He was in the wrong, but as a genius of the Valois Family and a high-ranking Inquisitor, how could he admit his mistake?
“I… sensed a strong heretical energy fluctuation! I suspected you were conducting an evil ritual!”
He forced a defense, “As a Special Investigator, I have the right to take any necessary measures in emergencies!”
“Evil ritual?!” Fan Zhuo laughed angrily, “You call washing hair an evil ritual? Does your hair get cleansed by holy light?!”
“Impudent! How dare you disrespect your superior!”
Lucien, enraged and humiliated, stepped into the bathroom, glaring down at him.
“I order you to come out immediately and submit to my…”
He pointed at Fan Zhuo, his voice trembling slightly with shame and fury.
At that moment, Lucien seemed to realize something.
He looked down at Fan Zhuo, bare-chested in the bathtub.
Then at his own thin silk nightgown hastily worn…
This was over.
His disguise…
Lucien’s face instantly flushed bright red.