Beauty Emerging from Her Bath

The bootlicking grin on Fang Yu's face—the kind that said, "Being able to ease senior sister's worries is like smoke rising from my ancestral graves"—had only spread halfway when the woman suddenly said, "Wait!" Her voice was not loud, yet it pierced the back of his neck like an ice pick.

Fuck! Have I been exposed? Fang Yu's heart skipped a beat.

Every muscle in his body instantly tensed. A hundred and eight plans for murder, robbery, then using Susanoo to plow through the Moon Concealment Sect's main hall before fleeing had already flashed through his mind.

"No need." The woman's voice carried a weary lack of interest. "Just stand there."

Fang Yu's CPU nearly burned out.

What a twist.

"Huh? Senior Sister, it's fine, I can carry it! I can serve you steadily with just one hand!" He hurriedly declared his loyalty, trying to drag the topic back into the safe territory of "carrying the furnace."

The woman did not respond. Instead, she frowned and looked at his empty sleeve. Her gaze was complicated, carrying a trace of genuine pity.

"How would you carry it?" she asked. Her tone was flat, but it struck precisely at the physical flaw Fang Yu had deliberately ignored.

Fang Yu subconsciously followed her gaze to the empty sleeve fluttering in the wind.

The air froze for two seconds.

He opened his mouth. The nonsense line, "I'll carry it with my foot and show you," rolled around in his throat, but he ultimately did not say it. All that remained on his face was an awkward grin mixed with self-mockery and frustration.

The woman sighed softly. The sigh was as light as a feather, yet it carried the indifference of someone accustomed to seeing injuries, deaths, and farewells along the path of cultivation, along