Chapter 21:
Cultivation
THE LIGHT in the inner chamber was so dim that Mo Tianliao could barely see the furnishings. The spacious room was carpeted with light-colored cushions, making it unsteady to walk on. Mo Tianliao almost tripped as he walked inside, but he caught and steadied himself just in time. He looked down. The beautiful man in his arms was still sound asleep.
Silently breathing a sigh of relief, Mo Tianliao looked around. There was a large, partially open window, with sheer curtains that fluttered gently in the night breeze. A huge canopied bed stood in the center, its white brocade bedding faintly glowing in the moonlight.
He walked over and gently placed the sleeping beauty on the bed. The soft breath against his neck was giving him troubling feelings. Mo Tianliao took a deep breath and hardened his heart, forcing himself to transfer the head resting against his chest to the soft pillow.
Cold moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, illuminating a face so incomparably handsome that Mo Tianliao couldn’t help but take another look, his eyes trailing along the exquisite curves of his closed eyes, his thin, pale-colored lips, his perfectly contoured chin, his fair neck, and down below his collarbone—
Think no evil!
Mo Tianliao forcefully tore his gaze away from his tempting master and released his arms. The soft bedding quickly folded the slender man into its embrace. Mo Tianliao pulled over a thin quilt and covered Qingtong with it, but as he turned to leave, he felt a tug on his sleeve.
“Where are you going?” a clear, charming voice asked in a groggy tone.
Mo Tianliao stiffly turned back toward his master, who had grabbed the end of his sleeve and was slowly opening his beautiful eyes. He lit the glass lamp by the bed and crouched at eye level with his master. “I’ll come back tomorrow if you’re tired.”
Qingtong yawned, covering his mouth with his fair hand, and lay there looking back at him. “You don’t have to come tomorrow. I’ll be in seclusion.”
Mo Tianliao understood this to mean that he should spit out whatever he had to say now and then make himself scarce, so he quickly brought up Pawpaw. “I’d really like to have that white cat.”
Mo Tianliao had already confirmed with Yanlie that there was no actual rule to provide a personal disciple with a spirit beast. It all depended on whether their master was inclined to give them one or not. He couldn’t lose Pawpaw, and he wasn’t worried Pawpaw would refuse to go with him. His only worry, he admitted to his master, was that he might give the cat away to someone else.
“That won’t happen,” Qingtong said, and dismissed him with a wave.
Mo Tianliao felt a weight lift off his heart at his master’s answer. Seeing his sleepy eyes misting over like rain-washed obsidians, he couldn’t help but ask another question as an excuse to keep looking at them. “Then how can I get that cat?”
Those shimmering eyes glanced at him briefly before closing. “Depends on your performance.”
Mo Tianliao broke into a grin and took out a glass hairpin—the same one he’d bought at the marketplace. However, he had recarved it into the “drifting cloud chasing the moon” design worn by men, with a hidden moon inlaid within the hollow cloud. The simple exterior also had intricate patterns that glistened in the candlelight. It was gorgeous.
“I bought this from the marketplace,” he said in a soft, lulling voice. “I’d like to give it to you.” Not caring if his master heard him, he placed the hairpin by the pillow and blew out the light. “I’m leaving now.”
The doors to the inner chamber closed, and the light from the crack underneath disappeared. A still silence descended in the room.
Those closed eyes opened again. Qingtong took the hairpin and brought it closer to get a look, his night vision taking in every carved detail.
Pawpaw, your eyes are so beautiful; they look like light-colored glass.
Look, Pawpaw, don’t we look like a couple when I wear a light-colored glass hairpin?
I’ve got too much of an intimidating vibe for glass; this kind of glass is better suited to a gorgeous knockout.
Those pale lips curved into a barely perceptible smile as Qingtong put the hairpin under his pillow and wearily closed his eyes.