“Bang!”
The main door was suddenly flung open.
Outside the door, Mò Zhī’s expression was somewhat sour.
She was dressed exquisitely, and though she usually avoided makeup, her face was now heavily painted.
Cute pink was drawn on her eyebrows, her thin lips stained a deep red, and even her cat ears and tail were decorated with flowers.
She wore a doll-like pink dress, with mysterious red marks on her neck and cheeks.
Her hair was tied up into two adorable buns by someone, and her dress and the three tails behind her were adorned with lavish ribbons.
At this moment, she looked like a gift all wrapped up—cute, but also somewhat pouty.
“Clan Leader?”
This cute yet ridiculous appearance made Wēn Suǒ hardly believe that this gift-like girl was the very same clan leader they all knew—always stern and serious.
Even though she knew it in her heart, the question still slipped out instinctively.
“Ah, it’s me…”
Mò Zhī stepped inside and with a sharp “slam!” closed the door tightly behind her.
The first thing she did upon entering was to rip off the ribbons on her body and vigorously wipe away the red marks on her face.
Seeing Mò Zhī so upset, Wēn Suǒ timidly said, “Looks like it didn’t go very well…”
“It’s infuriating!!!”
Finally unable to hold back, she shouted loudly, her hands messily messing up her buns.
“That damned Demon Lord actually dared to mock me like that! What does she think I am?!”
She had only voiced her own opinion and yet had been mercilessly humiliated.
The thought of returning home looking like this and being seen by the clan made her wish she could crawl into a hole and disappear.
“Ugh, this is so frustrating, it’s driving me crazy!”
The more she thought about it, the more embarrassed she felt.
She took off the dress and buried herself under the blankets, curling into a soft ball with only her cute little feet sticking out.
Wēn Suǒ wiped her hands—fresh from cooking—and silently sat down on the edge of the bed.
She sat quietly and gracefully, but her face showed a hesitant expression, her deep eyes filled with worry.
The comforting words she wanted to say never came out, because even if spoken, they would do no real good.
She felt utterly useless…
After a long silence, she finally asked, “How did the Demon Lord respond?”
Mò Zhī clenched her tiny feet, then answered in a muffled voice, “That person immediately rejected my idea… and humiliated me severely.”
Her voice carried a trace of hidden grievance but was quickly masked.
“I see… then I suppose we’ll have to choose someone else.”
Wēn Suǒ stared unblinking at those fair little feet, clearly uneasy.
“And… that person also said…”
Her voice faltered.
After curling her toes tightly, she continued, “Said that if I agreed to one condition, she wouldn’t make my clan members do those dangerous tasks anymore.”
“What condition?”
“That I would live by her side from now on.”
Wēn Suǒ’s beautiful brows lowered a few degrees.
“Then… what does the clan leader think about this?”
Mò Zhī remained silent, but her meaning was clear without words.
“I see.”
Wēn Suǒ clenched her fists tightly.
She stood up and walked into the kitchen.
Moments later, the aroma of delicious food seeped through the gap in the blanket, drifting into Mò Zhī’s nostrils.
Sniff sniff.
Mò Zhī poked out her delicate little nose and sniffed the air.
Her three tails happily popped out, wagging from side to side.
“Anyway, let’s eat first, Clan Leader. I made lots of your favorites.”
“Are there Dou Dou cakes?”
“Yes, there are.”
In an instant, her unhappiness vanished.
She poked her head out from under the covers, blinking her big eyes toward the dining table, and sure enough, there lay the Dou Dou cakes she had been craving.
Mò Zhī’s favorite moment of the day was mealtime.
She loved enjoying food, especially when it was something she liked.
But in truth, she wasn’t picky at all; anything edible was met with the highest gratitude.
Leaving all worries behind to enjoy the meal was her standard approach.
Dinner ended amidst the clinking and clattering of dishes.
Afterward, Mò Zhī attended to clan affairs until eleven at night before going to bed.
Just before lying down, she suddenly remembered something and quickly called out to Wēn Suǒ, who was about to leave.
“Oh, Wēn Suǒ… I have one more thing to entrust to you.”
“What is it, Clan Leader?”
Wēn Suǒ approached her slowly, and then saw Mò Zhī pull something from beneath her pillow—a red hair tie.
Wēn Suǒ recognized this hair tie.
She had seen Mò Zhī carry it around since childhood without ever parting from it.
Her father once told her that Mò Zhī had found this hair tie together with him.
“Here, keep this.”
Saying that, Mò Zhī placed the hair tie into Wēn Suǒ’s palm and held it tightly.
“If I don’t come back tomorrow, the clan’s matters will be up to you to decide. If anything serious happens, write to me… I believe Wēn Suǒ is capable of this!”
“Clan Leader…”
Not coming back?
Where wouldn’t she come back from?
To that Demon Lord’s side?
But if that happened, what about the clan?
What about herself…
I don’t want to be the clan leader.
I don’t want to be the clan leader!
That position can only be yours, Mò Zhī-dàren…
Taking care of your daily needs, sharing your worries, and occasionally asking for a bit of affection called love from you—those are the things I truly want to do.
As long as I can stay by your side, that’s enough…
Wēn Suǒ silently slipped the hair tie into her pocket.
Seeing this, Mò Zhī said again, “Good night then, my Wēn Suǒ.”
“Good night… Clan Leader.”
With that, she stood up and left the room.
Mò Zhī stretched out on the bed like a cat, hugging her three tails, then drifted into a deep sleep.
Not long after, the door cracked open just a bit, and a pair of dim, dull eyes peered through the gap, looking at the already sleeping Mò Zhī.
It was Wēn Suǒ. In her hand, she seemed to be holding something.
She opened the door fully and quietly stepped inside.
She made almost no sound—no footsteps, and barely any breath.
At the window, she placed a letter on the bed, then silently left the room.
“Sorry, Clan Leader…”
Looking up at the bright moon in the sky, she knew the night was still long, and she still had matters to handle…
The Duke’s Mansion.
A gray figure ran swiftly across the eaves of the mansion.
Her speed was agile, footsteps like the wind, her figure ghostlike.
A silver dagger gleamed in her hands held before her chest, but her eyes were sharper than the blade.
She suddenly stopped; below her stood a short, stout man, seemingly waiting for someone.
“Don’t blame me.”
With that, she raised the dagger and lunged down toward the man below…