Water Moon, Mirror Flowers (1)

Chu Shihan's hand hanging at his side suddenly clenched tight. His knuckles gave a faint crack under the force, and deep red marks had already been pinched into his palm.

His chest rose and fell slightly, his breathing several degrees heavier than before. Every step he took across the polished floor carried restrained force.

He strode through the cloying music. The gazes of the surrounding maidservants and the musicians' performance blurred into an indistinct backdrop as he went straight to the low table before Shen Yuxi.

His gaze was like red-hot iron nails, fixed mercilessly on the faint berry stain at the corner of the other man's lips. He had even forgotten to blink.

"Junior Brother."

His voice was low and rough, carrying a wary scrutiny. His gaze tried to pierce that frozen mask of a face, searching for even the slightest sign that Shen Yuxi was under another's control or not in his right mind.

Even from the instant he stepped into this hall, his spiritual sense had clearly told him—the demoness nestled in his junior brother's arms was no match for Shen Yuxi in cultivation.

But what if? What if his junior brother had fallen victim to some more concealed plot, or had been restrained by some bizarre poison or occult art, unable to act of his own will?

At the sound of his voice, Shen Yuxi carelessly lifted his eyes. When his gaze swept over Chu Shihan, not a ripple stirred within it. It was as though he had merely glanced over some inconsequential furnishing at his feet, not lingering for even a moment longer. Not only did he fail to answer, he deliberately turned his head aside, avoiding Chu Shihan's gaze.

The person in his arms moved first instead. The woman in white turned with a