Meanwhile, in his little wooden cabin.
A young man was troubled as well.
She sat cross-legged on Xiao Qinghe's bed, idly toying with a gorgeous peony.
As a bottom-tier weakling in the Demon-Slaying Sect, Xiao Qinghe lived in decidedly humble quarters. Still, the little cabin was clean and neat, and the bed looked as tidy as new.
A thin beige quilt was folded into a perfect square, giving off a faint, crisp fragrance.
It seemed to be his scent.
As if possessed, the young woman toppled into the quilt.
She buried her devastatingly beautiful face in its softness and inhaled deeply.
Then rubbed her cheek against it.
It really did smell like him.
It even felt just like him.
Warm and soft, utterly adorable.
Adorable?
Why would she think a grown man was adorable?
The young woman abruptly stiffened.
The peony in her hand suddenly lost all its appeal.
She tossed it aside.
He had only made an offhand remark, so why had she gone and picked a peony as if under a spell?
The moment she heard the Demon Clan was causing trouble in the Demon-Slaying Sect, she had come to his quarters without a second thought.
Amid her wildly pounding heart, there had actually been a trace of inexplicable worry.
Why should she worry?
Because he knew she belonged to the Demon Clan, yet instead of trying to wipe her out like everyone else, he gave her blood on nights of the full moon?
That was right.
If he died, she would lose a cheap source of food that delivered itself to her doorstep.
That was all.
"Knowing his cultivation is weaker than everyone else's, he should have stayed put in his room instead of running around courting death," the young woman said through gritted teeth. "If he