The two days passed in the blink of an eye.
But to Zheng Qing, the image of Su Shijun groping his naked body—of course, that was merely a private fantasy he had concocted for himself—felt as though it had happened only a second ago.
Whenever he recalled that moment, the young wizard felt a wave of heat surge through his body, as though he had been pricked by the scorching summer sun, and goosebumps would involuntarily rise on the back of his neck.
The feeling was so intense that, when he ate in the dining hall over the past two days, all the ease he had gradually grown accustomed to vanished, and he became stiff and awkward again. Sometimes, even after finishing an entire meal, he did not dare glance more than once in Su Shijun's direction.
Other than that, nothing else happened.
After the little incident of falling off the ladder, none of the witches in the mansion dared ask him for help anymore. The only one bold enough to call on him, the Little Fox Girl, had become utterly obsessed with climbing high. She dragged that stepladder all around the mansion every day, searching for every pane of glass and candlestick that had not yet been wiped clean.
For a time, Zheng Qing suspected that Su Ya had a cat living inside her heart as well.
Of course, not doing housework did not mean Zheng Qing was free.
In fact, over these past two days, he had been caught up in a kind of busy routine that felt both familiar and strange. Aside from keeping a close eye on Poseidon's studies every day, he had to set aside a great deal of time to organize Talisman Bomb Production Theory and study the Qingqiu Secret Arts, leaving him constantly