Li Jia felt like a rag doll in a novel.
She didn't have to do a thing.
Winslow had packed her up, bedding and all, and sent her to the Deep Hall.
Of course, she didn't have much luggage.
Dusk had just passed, and night had fallen.
Li Jia had meant to beg Winslow not to leave so soon, but Winslow gave her a strange "I understand everything" smile and quickly shut the doors to the Deep Hall.
What exactly did she understand, and why didn't Li Jia understand?
Li Jia was especially puzzled. There were nearly twenty palaces of various sizes in Hot Spring Ravine, so why had Hera flatly refused to give her one?
Could she be planning to work Li Jia like an ox and have her serve her properly?
The Deep Hall was Hera's bedchamber. According to Winslow, in all the centuries she had known Her Majesty, this was the first time she had seen her willing to share a residence with someone.
She even encouraged Li Jia: "Perhaps you're special to Her Majesty."
At that moment, two little figures were fighting in Li Jia's head.
A little white figure said she was judging a noble person by her own petty standards. How could a lofty goddess like Hera make things difficult for a small fry like her?
The other, a little black figure, took on the face of Nanny Rong from My Fair Princess, the one who stabbed Ziwei and Xiao Yanzi. It pulled out an embroidery needle with a sinister air. Stab, stab, stab, stab, stab.
A faint scent of rosemary drifted through the bedchamber, mingling with the fragrance of roses wafting in through the window to form a soft, warm haze.
A vast grove of roses grew in the Deep Hall's rear courtyard. Li Jia only had to open a window to see the fiery blossoms dancing in the night breeze.
They were just like the one who had planted them.
Dazzling and beautiful, noble and aloof.
A soft, smoky-white mosquito net hung around the wooden bed. Its edges were embroidered with the Silver Serpent Divine Mark unique to Hera, and reliefs of grapevines and olive branches intertwined across the headboard.
A breeze lifted one corner of the net, revealing a glimpse of the light quilt woven from snow-white silk, with delicate pearl tassels hanging from its corners.
It had to be comfortable to lie on.
And that was exactly what she did.
Li Jia's thoughts were in a jumble, so she simply couldn't be bothered to think anymore.
The essence of being a salted fish: if hardship knocks me down, I'll just go along with it and stay down.
She hadn't eaten dinner yet and was both hungry and sleepy.
The first rule of Li Jia's salted fish code: treat yourself well within the limits of what you can manage.
But she didn't dare guess what the devil was thinking, and she didn't want to sleep on the floor either.
After much hesitation, her exhaustion and longing for the bed overcame the fear in Li Jia's heart.
Hadn't Hera said, "It's fine," and "You may"?
That should count as tacit permission, right?
So the greatest concession Li Jia made was to go to the little pond beside the rose grove and wash herself clean, checking several times and not even overlooking her toenails.
Only after making sure there wasn't a speck of dust on her did she get into Hera's bed.
She took off her cumbersome dress and changed into a pure cotton nightgown trimmed with lace.
It was a custom style Li Jia had described in general terms.
Afraid her description wasn't clear enough, Li Jia had even drawn a rough sketch and begged Winslow to find a merchant in the human world to have it made.
She could wear ordinary clothes in everyday life, but there were certain things she absolutely wouldn't compromise on.
Li Jia had very high standards when it came to sleep.
In her words, after working herself to death all day, she could finally get out of her "work clothes," so she had to strip down and make herself as comfortable as possible.
She had to shake off that work stink!
Winslow didn't understand what she meant by work stink, but her good sister had taught her so many recipes. How could she not take a knife for her sister? This was a small matter.
She eagerly helped Li Jia get two sets made. Li Jia was delighted with the material; it really was handmade from unpolluted raw materials.
The only blemish was that the tailor couldn't make the breast pads on Li Jia's sketch. The design was completely unheard of.
With ninety-nine percent advantages and a one-percent flaw that hardly counted as one, Li Jia was naturally satisfied.
Everyone living in the divine residence was a woman, so what did she have to fear?
Besides, without the restraints, these two lumps of flesh could finally breathe.
Sometimes she wondered herself... how could her boobs be so big?
In her previous life, she'd been a minus-A. Now she was a C+.
She couldn't help marveling that foreigners really were naturally gifted.
The moment she lay down,
the exquisitely soft texture against her skin and the cool silk made Li Jia think of modern air conditioning.
A good bed really was different!
Even the mattress was soft, like a modern Simmons mattress!
Before she knew it, Li Jia had fallen fast asleep.
Li Jia lay curled on her side in a corner of the wooden bed. It was a habit of hers.
It was the greatest sense of security Li Jia could give herself.
She had loosened her flaxen curls and spread them over the soft pillow. A few strands had fallen across her collarbone, rising and falling slightly with her breathing. The light quilt over her chest trembled slowly to the same rhythm and slipped downward.
Moonlight slipped through a gap in the curtains and fell across her profile, coating it in a soft layer of frost.
The young woman seemed to have set aside all her worries. Her lips were gently pressed together, and as if dreaming of something sweet, the corners of her mouth curved up slightly.
The whole inner chamber fell quiet. Only her steady breathing and the occasional sleepy murmur wove a gentle web over the Deep Hall.
When Hera returned, this was the scene she found: the young woman slept peacefully on the bed, her fair neck and breasts exposed as her nightgown slipped down.
One small, lovely pink grape was exposed to the air. The nightgown was a pale pink close to her skin tone, and a hint of pink from the other grape could just be seen through the snow-white nightgown in the dim light.
She looked almost naked, yet more alluring than if she had been completely bare.
The woman had suddenly intruded upon this seductive sight. Her throat tightened, and she instinctively waved a hand, shutting all the doors and windows tightly.
No one could enter her divine residence unless she brought them there herself, and the same held true for gods.
She had placed an even stronger restriction on her Deep Hall. Without her spoken permission, even Doreen and Winslow only dared wait outside the doors.
Yet when Hera saw the young woman on the bed, even knowing no one else would see her, she still felt a trace of displeasure.
She had schemed and exhausted all her crude tricks to get close to her.
How could she be so unguarded?
Sometimes, Hera didn't understand her either.
Fortunately, there was plenty of time ahead, plenty of time for her to give herself away.
Hera walked over and sat beside Li Jia, pulled up her nightgown, and carefully covered her with the light silk quilt.
A metallic sweetness rose in her throat. She forced it back down, but some still trickled from the corner of her mouth onto the hem of her dress, blossoming into little plum blossoms.
Her soul body had not yet fully healed. Forcing herself to leave seclusion had still been too much of a strain.
After thinking it over, Hera cast a cleaning spell on herself, changed into a clean night robe, and lay down on the bed. Then she slowly moved closer to Li Jia and closed her eyes.
Why did this little one like sleeping in the corner so much?
Hera was tall, and as soon as she got into bed, the previously level mattress sank beneath her. Li Jia rolled along with it into her arms.
Hera didn't push her away. Instead, she pressed closer. Li Jia lay against her chest, and a pleasant woody scent drifted from Hera's hair to her nose.
Hera gazed at her face, unwilling to miss a single detail. Ordinarily, Li Jia was so afraid of her that she didn't dare lift her head, yet now she was sleeping obediently in her arms.
She was beautiful.
It was the kind of beauty Hera liked, without the slightest hint of aggression. When she smiled, two lovely little dimples appeared on her oval face. Hera held a hand above her cheek to measure it; her face wasn't even as big as Hera's palm.
Only when she held her in her arms did she truly feel how small she was.
Her shoulders were narrow, her shoulder blades thin.
It always seemed as though she would break with the slightest force.
Before coming to her side, she had spent many years in a body like this.
How had she endured it?
Her fingertips were covered in thick calluses.
The Vance Family had treated her very badly.
So thin and weak.
Where on earth had she found the courage
to come to her side
and become an apostle of a devil like her?
Hera took Li Jia's wrist. The red ring on Li Jia's middle finger flickered like a fiery star in the night, and the matching ring on Hera's hand lit up in response, as though their hearts were in tune.
Her other hand gently caressed Li Jia's cheek, her thumb brushing against Li Jia's lips. They were very soft, and her expression grew ever gentler.
She whispered in Li Jia's ear, "Little liar, don't forget, you were the one who said you loved me first."
Hunger woke Li Jia. She was in the habit of eating breakfast, and her body clock always woke her at the usual time.
As soon as she opened her eyes, she sensed something was wrong. Since she had slept in the corner of the bed, the first thing she saw should have been the view outside the window.
But when she looked up now, she saw an aloof, bewitchingly beautiful face. Apparently, she was even sleeping in her arms.
Li Jia didn't dare move recklessly. The devil seemed to be having a pleasant dream, and if she woke her and put her in a bad mood, what if she destroyed her? Li Jia valued her life very much.
Treasure life; it's everyone's responsibility.
Her head rested against Hera's collarbone. Hera's warm breath spread across her forehead and the curve of her ear, making them tickle and burn. She was so close that she could even hear Hera's heart going thump, thump.
This was torture. Hera held her fast at the waist like a rattlesnake coiled around her, leaving her unable to move up or down.
She might as well go back to sleep.
That was the second rule of Li Jia's salted fish code: take life as it comes and don't push yourself too hard.
If she couldn't change it, she might as well enjoy it.
The two of them, one large and one small, lay in bed and drifted off to sleep.
By the time Li Jia woke again, it was already dusk. The space beside her was empty, and her anxious heart gradually relaxed.
She wasn't ready to face her so openly yet.
With that worry gone, the faint rumbling in her belly had turned into a loud protest, audible even through her thin nightgown.
She was so hungry.
Li Jia's sense of smell had become unusually sharp. She caught the aroma of food from a long way off.
She got out of bed and followed the scent to the round table in the center of the Deep Hall, where toast, cheese pastries, and a honey-roasted chicken had been set out.
She had told Winslow how to make them. Without another word, Li Jia tore off a chicken leg and put it to her mouth. It was sweet, with crispy skin; it seemed to have come out of the oven not long ago.
Her luck was incredible. She woke up to delicious food delivered right to her.
Only poor Doreen had to stand tucked away in a corner outside the door, waiting to collect the dishes.
As soon as Li Jia finished eating, Winslow arrived with the goddess of weaving. Once Li Jia gave permission, the doors to the Deep Hall opened on their own.
It gave the goddess of weaving quite a fright. Who on the entire Divine Mountain didn't know the marriage goddess Hera's temperament? Yet she had actually shared access to the Deep Hall with an apostle and even asked her to come personally to make clothes for this one.
The other ten divine lords all took wholesale goods directly from clothing shops in the human world.
Still, it wasn't all that unusual. At least this time she was making clothes for a person.
A few days ago, Artemis had asked her to make more than a hundred outfits for her pet Little Penguin, for all four seasons. Everything from tops and skirts down to socks had to be custom-made, and she wasn't allowed to take measurements by hand; she had to estimate them by eye. Even so, it hadn't stopped her.
A master tailor could handle it with ease.
Li Jia liked vivid colors and picked out more than a dozen bright color swatches, including pale yellow, light green, orange, and bright red. Winslow also chose several swatches in varying shades of white beside her.
After taking Li Jia's measurements, the goddess picked out some currently fashionable styles for her. Li Jia also offered a few suggestions of her own, details like whether a couple of extra pockets could be sewn into the skirts to hold snacks.
The goddess of weaving liked a challenge. She returned to her workshop with the bolts of cloth in her arms, thoroughly satisfied, and personally brought the clothes to Li Jia a few days later.
She seemed to understand a little why Hera treated her differently. Such a lovely, creative, and imaginative young woman deserved to be liked.