Steam curled in the quiet air, swirling between the wooden tub and stone walls.
"Master, it's not like that. Is it really so inappropriate for me to be here? Just finish your bath, I'll head out."
"Unreasonable!"
Li Haoran froze as Yue Chan's voice cut through the air, plunging the room into sudden silence.
"I… I have a small cut on my back. Could you… Check it for me?"
"A cut?"
He echoed, tension tightening his voice. He spun around and hurried toward the bath.
"What do you mean, a cut?"
Yue Chan shifted, turning her back to him, revealing a fresh, crimson wound etched across her pale skin.
"How did this happen? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I only just noticed it now," she replied quietly.
Li Haoran let out a heavy sigh, brows drawn together in worry.
"Master, I'm sorry—I misunderstood."
She lowered her head, gathering her long hair and pulling it over her shoulders to bare her back completely. Her skin was flawless and smooth, almost luminous in the steamy air.
The sight left Li Haoran stunned. He quickly averted his eyes, flustered.
"Did you… see everything?" Yue Chan asked, with unexpectedly serious.
Li Haoran swallowed nervously, voice shaky.
"Y-yes, Master."
Even with her back turned, Yue Chan smiled, sensing his unease in the rhythm of his breath.
"Before tending the wound, it needs to be cleaned properly. Will you help me? Just be careful not to make it bleed."
"Master, are you serious?" he asked, still hesitant.
"Haoran, we're the only ones here. Who else could I ask?"
He was silent for a moment, then nodded with resolve.
"All right, I'll do it," he said, softly but determined.
As he approached, he noticed Yue Chan watching him from the corner of her eye.
Embarrassed, he mumbled a request for her to look away, but she only gave him a faint, reassuring smile.
She lifted her hand above the milky, steaming water and pointed to a woven scrub resting nearby.
When Li Haoran reached for it, it slipped from his grasp and sank into the tub, sending ripples across the surface.
"Ah…" was all he managed to say as he looked up at Yue Chan, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips, hand hovering awkwardly in midair after failing his simple task.
With a small, decisive gesture, Yue Chan signaled for him to retrieve the woven scrub himself.
Li Haoran's eyes widened at her silent challenge.
Seeing no way out, he reluctantly removed his boots and gingerly stepped into the tub, the warm, milky water swirling around him as he reached down, searching for the lost scrub.
"Did you find it?" Yue Chan asked, her calmly but carrying a hint of amusement.
Li Haoran shook his head, still groping blindly beneath the water for the elusive woven scrub.
"Need my help?" she asked again, with a playful lilt in her tone.
"No, Master, I can do it," Li Haoran replied.
After a moment of fumbling, his fingers finally closed around the woven scrub.
He lifted it triumphantly.
"Master, I found it!"
"Very well. Come, do your job."
Li Haoran's enthusiasm faded at her command. He moved closer with careful, gentle steps, his gaze turned away, doing his best not to look at her bare shoulders above the rim of the wooden tub.
As Yue Chan shifted, she adjusted her position to give Li Haoran space behind her.
Moving with hesitation, Li Haoran stepped closer.
The tension in his nerves was palpable—he couldn't suppress the unease that came with being so near to her bare back. His hand trembled slightly as he prepared to begin, still reluctant and acutely aware of the intimacy of the moment.
Why is Master insisting I do this? This is just… Utterly—forget it!
Noticing he hadn't moved yet, Yue Chan turned her head slightly, her gaze meeting his over her shoulder.
"Remember what I said—be careful not to make the wound bleed."
"All right, all right!" he replied anxiously, finally beginning to scrub her back, hand trembling with nerves.
"Slowly," she murmured, gentle but firm.
Li Haoran let out a shaky sigh and swallowed hard, his movements tense as he carefully tended to her back.
"Ma—Master, could you… not look at me?" Li Haoran stammered.
"What's the matter?" Yue Chan asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.
"If you look at me, I get nervous," he admitted, his cheeks flushing.
"Oh? Then what should I do?" she teased.
"Just… don't look at me," he pleaded.
Yue Chan couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, clearly amused by how flustered he was.
With a snap of her fingers, a strip of cloth materialized, wrapping neatly around her head to cover her eyes.
Li Haoran stared in disbelief.
"Tell me, my dear disciple—does this solution satisfy you?" she asked, her playfully.
Li Haoran didn't answer, but a small, relieved smile appeared on his lips.
"You didn't reply, so I'll take that as a yes," Yue Chan said with a soft laugh.
"My master is thoughtful. I'm honestly surprised," Li Haoran said, tone lightening. "Since you seem to be in good spirits now, could you tell me what happened when you left the sect?"
"Didn't I already tell you?" Yue Chan replied quietly. "I killed."
Li Haoran pressed his lips into a thin line at the familiar answer, but continued scrubbing her back with careful precision.
"Honestly, I'm a little upset with you, Master. You once told me we'd face our troubles together. So how could you just leave me behind, worrying about you?"
"In this situation, I didn't want you to be implicated," she replied, calm but distant. "As far as I can see, the consequences could be much worse than anything I've done."
"Implicated?" Li Haoran let out a wry smirk. "What does it mean to be master and disciple, if not to share the same path? We fight together—side by side—through life and death, through fortune and hardship."
Yue Chan turned to face him. Li Haoran froze, his eyes darting away from her bare shoulder, his body suddenly tense.
"You speak as if you've mastered all the idioms of human existence," she said quietly. "But those words—they belong to mortals, to people bound together through ordinary lives."
He met her gaze, searching her expression.
"And what about us? Aren't we mortals too?"
"For ordinary humans, we're different. They see us as something apart, because we possess powers they don't. Those sayings belong to them—meant for partners, relatives, or friends who share a simple life."
Li Haoran shook his head, a gentle determination in his voice.
"That may be true for most people, but I think we're included, too. Living partners—well, I'm your disciple, and you're my master. Isn't that a kind of partnership? We live together, share our days. And as for relatives and friends… ever since we've been together, haven't we filled those roles for each other as well?"
He gazed at her earnestly.
"Master, you're my partner, my friend, my family. I wouldn't trade that for anything—and I'm happy just as we are."
"Partner?" she murmured, the word lingering on her lips as if she couldn't quite process it.
A fleeting, unfamiliar feeling flickered within her, interrupting the flow of their argument.
"So next time, don't leave me alone," Li Haoran continued softly. "I promise, I won't be a burden to you. Remember the last time, when we faced life and death together at the lake—"
"Enough. Don't say any more," Yue Chan interrupted, turning her back to him.
"Master, did I offend you?" he asked, uncertainty in his voice.
"You didn't." Her tone was gentle but firm. "I told you before that the incident was just an accident—nothing more. I… I simply don't want to talk about it."
"Oh…"
A heavy silence settled between them.
"You know how to tend a wound?" Yue Chan finally asked.
Li Haoran nodded quickly, not trusting himself to speak.
"Then do it for me."
With a deep sigh, Li Haoran composed himself and continued gently rubbing her back, careful around the wound.
Minutes passed in the steamy haze of the bath.
Yue Chan reached for a long, silky fabric draped atop a stone, wrapping it around herself against the chill. She turned to Li Haoran, water dripping from his robes.
"Change your clothes first. When you're done, come to my chamber," she instructed, then turned on her heel and left without another word.
Li Haoran stood there frozen, stunned by yet another impossible task laid before him.
Master, this is almost impossible. Why do I have to tend your wound myself? I nearly—ah, forget it!
He muttered under his breath, eyes dropping to his damp clothes.
As Yue Chan's figure disappeared through the doorway, he let out a resigned sigh.
With a quick gesture, he cast a spell—the moisture vanished instantly, his robes crisp and dry once more.
Rolling his shoulders and tilting his head to either side, Li Haoran steadied himself before stepping out of the bathing room.
When he entered the cavern chamber, he found Yue Chan already dry, a plain white fabric draped elegantly around her figure.
Still, her shoulders and upper chest remained exposed.
Instinctively, he covered his face with one palm and turned away.
Yue Chan caught his reaction and smirked.
"Don't tell me you're hesitating now. If you really couldn't handle seeing me like this, you would have complained from the start. Stop pretending."
At her words, Li Haoran slowly lowered his hand and faced her, though he kept his gaze respectfully averted.
The chamber's arched stone walls cast soft shadows over the stone lounge where Yue Chan had been resting.
As she turned, the white fabric billowed, brushing against the floor as she walked to the lounge.
She sat down gracefully and patted the space beside her.
"Come, sit here."
Li Haoran hesitated, visibly flustered.
"Isn't it a bit inappropriate for us to be so close?"
Yue Chan arched a brow.
"How else can you tend my wound if you keep your distance?"
Clearing his throat, Li Haoran clenched his hands nervously.
After a moment, he moved forward, nearly stumbling in his haste.
"Take it easy," Yue Chan teased, a faint smile on her lips. "If you twist your ankle, we'll both suffer for it."
He settled beside her, careful not to get too close.
Yue Chan picked up a small jade bottle and held it out to him.
"This is a medicine I made for healing wounds. Apply it, and in two or three days, the injury will be completely gone," she explained, passing the bottle into his hand.
Li Haoran accepted it, his eyes shining with curiosity as he looked at her—this time, without flinching.
"Master, have you ever been wounded like this before?"
Yue Chan fell silent, the question hanging in the air between them.
She looked away, her expression unreadable.
"I know I don't have the right to question your personal matters, Master, but… I just hope next time, you won't get hurt again."
"Just tend my wound," she replied softly. "We'll talk about this later. Do you understand?"
"There's no way I wouldn't understand you, Master," Li Haoran said gently, his tone full of quiet reassurance.
Immediately, Yue Chan turned her back to him, sweeping her lustrous hair over her shoulder to expose the wound.
The sight of her luminous, flawless skin up close left Li Haoran nearly breathless.
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, feeling a rush of heat flood his cheeks.
Struggling to steady himself, he quickly focused on the task at hand.
His trembling fingers fumbled with the lid of the jade bottle before he managed to dip his finger in and gather a small amount of the healing cream for her wound.
With shaking hands, Li Haoran gently applied the ointment to Yue Chan's wound.
The nervousness was plain in his stiff movements.
In the faint shadows stretching across the stone floor, Yue Chan caught a glimpse of him swiping his forehead with his sleeve, trying to hide his fluster.
A small, reassuring smile appeared on her lips.
Soon, he was finished.
Li Haoran carefully handed the jade bottle back to her, his gaze lowered.
Yue Chan looked at him closely, noticing the flush on his cheeks.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly, eyes bright with curiosity.
Li Haoran froze, struggling to find his words.
"It—it's so… so hot," Li Haoran stammered, fanning himself with his hand.
Yue Chan leaned over, peering at his face.
"Were you… blushing?"
Her question made Li Haoran instantly defensive.
"What blushing?" he retorted, stiffening as he met her gaze. "Master… I really suggest you avoid getting wounded again," he added, lips pressed into a thin line. "It's… dangerous," he muttered.
Yue Chan gave a soft, teasing smile.
"Alright, but I can't make any promises. If I do get wounded again… well, I have you to tend to me, even if it happens countless times."
Li Haoran's mind blanked at her words.
Without another word, Yue Chan drew her legs up onto the lounge, stretching out behind Li Haoran as she lay down on her side.
He watched her, eyes wide.
"What are you doing?"
"Resting," she replied simply.
"But I just put medicine on the wound, Master."
"Don't worry, I won't lie flat. Stay with me. There's something we need to discuss."
Li Haoran slid off the lounge, settling himself on the floor and leaning his back against the stone side, turning his face toward her, ready to listen.
Yue Chan brought her middle and index fingers together, and a faint glow bloomed at their tips.
With a graceful motion, she traced a shape in the air—a pair of death scythes crossing each other.
Li Haoran's brows drew together in concern as he snapped his attention to her.
"What is this about, Master?"
Her gaze grew distant.
"A mark. The only trace I remember… from twenty years ago."