Fan Zhuo looked at the not-so-large single bed and fell into deep thought.
Let her sleep in the wardrobe? I’m not that much of a beast.
Let her sleep on the floor? Fan Zhuo glanced at the skimpy leather outfit she wore, then felt the coolness of the island night…
If he really did that, there’d probably be a frozen Succubus by morning.
In the end, it was the Cleric’s Compassion that won out.
“Fine, fine.” Fan Zhuo waved his hand helplessly, “You take the bed.”
He walked over to the bed and drew an invisible line down the center of the mattress with his finger.
“Listen.” He warned sternly, “You sleep on that side, I’ll sleep on this side. Neither of us crosses this line, absolutely no physical contact, understood?”
Milina blinked, then nodded obediently.
She’d never shared a bed with anyone before, but for some reason, she just instinctively trusted Fan Zhuo.
Although…
He’d just washed his face using her…
In the Succubus Clan, there was a saying.
It was said that only a creature that could make a succubus feel a certain strange sensation could become the succubus’s master.
After that brief contact just now, Milina felt that the “not-so-holy” power on Fan Zhuo seemed capable of letting her experience that sensation—but only if they engaged in even more… intense activities…
Thinking of this, Milina’s face turned red in an instant.
Fan Zhuo slowly lay down, turning his back to her, doing his best to shrink to the very edge of the bed, silently telling himself:
Calm down, calm down, don’t let your imagination run wild…
Behind him, Milina also carefully lay down.
With the addition of another person’s weight, the bed dipped slightly, and a sweet, unfamiliar fragrance lingered at the tip of his nose.
Fan Zhuo felt every muscle in his body tense up.
Time ticked by, and the only sounds left in the room were the two of them breathing gently.
He didn’t know how long had passed before, just as his consciousness was about to slip into sleep, he suddenly felt a soft and warm presence at his back—slowly, tentatively… moving closer to him.
Closer.
That warmth carried a peculiar allure, making his tense body unconsciously relax.
As for Milina, after losing her magic, this was the first time she’d experienced such pure, warm, and… reassuring comfort.
This sensation was more fragrant than the finest abyssal wines, more cherished than a mother’s embrace.
Her mind had already drifted into sleep, but her body’s instincts kept urging her, closer and closer to that source of warmth…
***
The first rays of morning sunlight fell on Fan Zhuo’s face.
He opened his eyes slowly, his mind still foggy, only feeling that last night’s sleep had been unusually sweet, as if he’d been soaking in a hot spring—warm, comfortable, filled with energy.
Wait… warm?
Fan Zhuo’s body suddenly stiffened.
He realized that his back was pressed against something impossibly soft and warm. That astonishing elasticity and heat were nothing a pillow or blanket could compare to.
A petite body was wrapped around him from behind like an octopus, one arm draped over his waist, a fuzzy little head pillowed on his shoulder, her steady breathing brushing warm air against his ear.
Fan Zhuo could even smell that sweet fragrance wafting from her hair.
He stiffly rolled his eyes to glance behind him.
Milina was sleeping soundly, a glistening thread of drool hanging from the corner of her mouth, her face carrying a look of contentment and peace, as if lost in a beautiful dream.
Thanks to her sleeping posture, Fan Zhuo only had to lower his head a bit to see the two soft “water bags” pressed together beneath him.
Fan Zhuo felt like he was in the midst of a solemn flag-raising ceremony.
No, no…
He had to get this “humanoid pendant” off him before Lucien or White Rabbit walked in!
Holding his breath, Fan Zhuo began the most difficult “disarming a bomb” operation of his life.
First, he carefully pinched the arm draped over his waist with two fingers, trying to move it aside.
“Mm…”
Milina let out a dissatisfied whimper, her arm hugging him tighter, her entire body snuggling closer, her cheek rubbing against his shoulder.
Fan Zhuo felt as if an electric current had just run down his back, making his skin tingle.
No, this will just wake her up!
He changed tactics, and began to slowly, millimeter by millimeter, move his body, trying to slip out of her “embrace.”
Just as he was about to escape—
Knock, knock, knock.
The door was rapped on.
“Lord Fan Zhuo, are you awake?”
It was White Rabbit’s voice.
Fan Zhuo froze instantly, his heart nearly leaping out of his throat.
He glanced at Milina, still dead asleep, then at the tightly closed door, his mind racing.
“Ahem… awake, just a moment…” he answered in a low voice.
White Rabbit’s knocking paused, but she didn’t continue.
What now? What now?
He quickly pushed Milina—blanket and all—right to the far edge of the bed, then used a pillow and the folded-up quilt to cover her up tightly, disguising her as a pile of messy bedding.
Even so, Milina still slept soundly, showing no sign of waking up.
After finishing all this, he took a deep breath and walked over to open the door.
At the doorway, White Rabbit stood quietly. Today, she wore a new maid outfit, the main color a calm coffee shade, her thighs covered with garter stockings, making her look both elegant and alluring.
“Good morning, Lord Fan Zhuo.”
White Rabbit bowed slightly. “I detected your sleep quality was excellent and your heart rate steady. White Rabbit is very glad for you.”
“Ah… is that so, haha.” Fan Zhuo forced a laugh, instinctively blocking the doorway to keep her from coming in.
White Rabbit tilted her head, seeming a bit puzzled.
“My lord, you seem… a little different today.” She leaned in gently, her beautiful brows furrowing slightly as she sniffed, “There seems to be… a very sweet scent in this room.”
Fan Zhuo’s heart leapt to his throat.
“Oh, that!” He quickly pointed at the Sacred Bell Lucien had given him on the table. “Yesterday, Judge Lucien gave me an auxiliary cultivation tool. I tried it out, maybe it came with some incense.”
“Is that so?” White Rabbit’s gaze swept over the delicate Sacred Bell, and she seemed to accept the explanation.
She then took a step closer, coming right up to Fan Zhuo, her pure eyes looking at him intently.
“My lord, that scent… is on you as well.”
The two were so close, Fan Zhuo could feel the warm breath from her lips, and the unique, cool-yet-sweet fragrance that belonged only to a doll.
“Maybe… it got on me accidentally while cultivating,” Fan Zhuo replied, feeling cold sweat begin to bead on his back.