At last, after a final particularly excruciating wave of cramps, the pain began to ebb, leaving behind a hollow, aching exhaustion.

Gasping for air, Fu Jing’s head hung low, his face damp with tears, blood and sweat.

As much as Fu Jing wanted to claim this as a victory, that he’d endured the poison through sheer willpower—he knew that Xuan Qi had deliberately fed him a non-lethal share of his blood.

“Are you happy now?” he pressed out. “You’ve shattered my pride and taken every shred of my dignity. Can I go home now?”

“I told you, this is your new home,” Xuan Qi replied. Before Fu Jing could muster a response, Xuan Qi tossed him a towel. “Clean yourself."

The ropes around Fu Jing’s arms loosened. He slid off the slab, but as soon as his feet touched the ground, he crumpled to his knees. In his current state, his legs were too weak to hold his weight.

With a shaky hand, he grabbed the towel and dragged it across his mouth and chin. After perfunctorily wiping himself clean, he tossed the cloth to the ground.

Not only was his face smeared with blood, but his entire body and robes were drenched in a dark crimson. He felt incredibly filthy and wretched.

His voice, raw with bitterness, cut through the silence. “I want to take a bath.”

“Sure. If you don’t mind me being there.”

Fu Jing’s body was still shaking, yet his pride was bigger than his fear. “Is that a threat?”

“Just a fair warning.”

Having no strength left to argue further, Fu Jing gave a tentative nod.

Xuan Qi guided Fu Jing to the palace spring.

As an esteemed warrior, Fu Jing was no stranger to pain, walking without the slightest hint of discomfort.

Although located within the main house, the bath was an open-air pool. Thick steam curled over the surface, shrouding the small courtyard in a murky atmosphere.

Fu Jing haltingly approached the spring’s edge, staring at the steaming water.

After what he’d just endured, he felt too vulnerable to strip in front of the demon. As he weighed his options, he cast wary glances at Xuan Qi before coming to a decision. He dipped a toe into the warm water, then slipped into the pool without removing his robe.

The eerie serenity of the hot spring was briefly interrupted by the gentle splashes of water as he stepped in.

Nearby, Xuan Qi casually leaned against a small wooden shelf lined with rolled-up towels, his arms crossed as he watched Fu Jing without comment.

The moonlight on Fu Jing’s smooth skin made it appear even paler and cooler. His wet robe clung to his body, the soaked fabric almost translucent, losing its entire purpose. In the water, Fu Jing finally discarded the robe and gracefully began to wash himself.

Xuan Qi silently gazed at the beauty in the pond, seemingly lost in thought.

Once Fu Jing was finished, he turned his head to address Xuan Qi. “Hand me a towel.”

Without a word, Xuan Qi reached for one of the towels from the small shelf and tossed it to Fu Jing, who deftly caught it with one hand. When he unrolled it, he grimaced.

“How fucking tiny is this?”

He scrutinised the towel, barely larger than his head, before throwing it back at Xuan Qi. “Bring me a proper towel!”

Xuan Qi crossed his arms again. “You’d have a perfectly fine robe if you hadn’t walked into the spring fully clothed.”

“Bring. Me. A. Proper. Towel!” Fu Jing repeated through gritted teeth, each word steeped in fury.

Xuan Qi sighed, then snapped his fingers. An instant later, a small yao servant appeared, half-kneeling before the demon with his head bowed. “My Lord?”

“Bring us a proper towel,” Xuan Qi said, using air quotes around the word proper.

Without raising his head, the servant peered at him. He clearly didn’t know what a proper towel was.

Losing patience, Fu Jing pointed with his hand at the abandoned towel and barked, “Something bigger than this pathetic scrap of cloth! A human-sized towel!”

“…” The servant’s eyes wandered to Fu Jing, but he still didn’t move.

“Just bring us a fresh set of robes,” Xuan Qi finally ordered. This, the servant understood. With a quick nod, he turned and hurried away.

Xuan Qi smirked at the seething man in the spring and gave him an innocent shrug.

Once Fu Jing had changed into his fresh set of white robes, Xuan Qi took him back to his cell with no further detours.