Tempting The God - Chapter 2
Chapter 2: Mask
Luyi widened her eyes in alarm, afraid that Shen Jixue might unintentionally hurt him.
She was just about to step forward and pull her away when she saw Lin Mozhi wave his hand gently.
“It’s fine,” he said with a soft smile, his hand reaching out tentatively to lightly press her wrist down.
“Perhaps it will.”
“It definitely will!”
Shen Jixue nodded confidently, her voice brimming with excitement.
“Mother said that applying snowmelt from plum blossoms in winter can make one’s eyes clear and bright!”
She had assumed he was merely light-sensitive, but it seemed he was truly blind.
As for the plum blossom snowmelt remedy, it was just an old folk recipe she had come across while idly flipping through books in the human world.
Lin Mozhi did not respond to her suggestion, instead shifting the topic.
“Luyi has already explained your situation to me. Since Steward Zhang assigned you to Songhe Courtyard, I will take care of you from now on. If you have any questions, you can ask Luyi. Would you agree to that?”
He paused, then added, “Until your parents come to fetch you.”
From the moment Shen Jixue was sold to the Lin family by her “parents,” she was a servant.
Unlike the cultivation world, where strength determined one’s status, the human world’s deep courtyards clung to rigid hierarchies of master and servant.
Yet Lin Mozhi used the word “take care of” instead of reinforcing these distinctions—
Could he really be a gentle and kind person?
Shen Jixue’s dark, expressive eyes curved into crescents as she smiled.
She reached out and hooked her slender fingers around Lin Mozhi’s long, elegant ones.
“Okay! Then let’s make a pinky promise—Big brother and I won’t change this for a hundred years!”
Seeing the young man’s lips curl into a faint smile, his finger bent to lightly hook hers in return, Shen Jixue’s grin became even brighter.
–Chang Yuan, oh Chang Yuan, if anyone’s to blame, it’s yourself.
Of all things, your love tribulation happens to be my key to overcoming my death tribulation.
Once a lofty god looking down on all living beings as ants, Chang Yuan despised demon cultivators the most.
Now reincarnated into a frail, blind invalid, he met her—a Demon Lord—without recognizing her.
And just a few kind words were enough to soften his heart?
Too perfect to be true.
As she followed Luyi out of the room, Shen Jixue lowered her head, her gaze tinged with rare intrigue.
Beneath this gentle surface, there was surely more to uncover.
A weak person surviving unscathed, with even the steward treating him with respect, must have some hidden means.
***
Servants in the Lin household were required to rise before dawn, sweep the courtyards, heat water, and then head to the kitchen to fetch breakfast for their masters.
Most masters had their own private kitchens, and their servants were spared from queuing at the communal kitchens.
But Songhe Courtyard, tucked away in a remote corner, belonged to Lin Mozhi, the invisible “young master” of the Lin household, who naturally enjoyed no such privilege.
“Brother Xu, heading out for breakfast so early?”
Emerging from the woodshed, Shen Jixue adjusted the firewood in her arms, nearly covering her face.
Xu Chang, with his perpetually taciturn demeanor, nodded slightly before striding out of the courtyard with a food box in hand.
Songhe Courtyard had only three servants, including Xu Chang, who appeared slightly older than Luyi.
Though technically a personal male attendant for the young master, he also handled all the heavy labor around the courtyard—chopping wood, carrying water, and hauling coal.
Luyi, meanwhile, only did light chores like sweeping and laundry.
Shen Jixue, despite claiming to be fifteen, looked so scrawny and small that she wasn’t even taller than a broomstick.
Hence, Luyi only assigned her the task of boiling water in the mornings—a rather idle job.
Hearing the sound of light footsteps behind her, Shen Jixue turned and entered the nearby kitchen.
Placing the firewood down, she sat on a small stool by the stove, tossing a few pieces of wood into the flames.
Luyi appeared at the kitchen doorway and, seeing Shen Jixue tending the fire, let out a small scoff.
“At least you’re not lazy.”
Shen Jixue turned her head, smiling brightly as she greeted her.
“Good morning, Sister Luyi. The water will be ready soon.”
“I can see that, I’m not blind.”
Luyi, with her nose in the air, scooped some hot water into a wooden basin, mixed it with cooler water, and carried it to Lin Mozhi’s room.
As Luyi left, Shen Jixue withdrew her gaze.
The flickering firelight reflected in her pupils, making them appear even darker and more profound.
She had been in the Lin household for nearly half a month now.
Luyi was strict, rarely allowing her to leave Songhe Courtyard, and had repeatedly warned her against wandering around.
Was Luyi truly looking out for her, or was she afraid Shen Jixue might be a spy planted by another courtyard?
Lin Mozhi, frail and unable to tolerate the cold, stayed in his room all day.
Luyi, ever domineering, often barred Shen Jixue from entering, leaving her with few opportunities to observe Lin Mozhi, let alone discern his attitude toward her.
Gaining his trust and drawing out his emotions seemed like a distant dream.
She needed to come up with a plan…
Shen Jixue poked at the blazing fire in the stove and turned to gaze at the snowflakes drifting down outside the window, her lips curling slightly.
The plum blossom snowmelt water she had casually mentioned the other day seemed like a decent idea.
Thinking of this, she was about to get up and grab a jar when the kitchen door was suddenly flung open.
Xu Chang entered, his body still dusted with fine snow, cheeks flushed red from the biting wind.
Judging by his appearance, he had sprinted back. His voice was urgent, “Ah Xue, the young master’s old illness has flared up. I have to go find a doctor, and Luyi is at his bedside. You’ll need to fetch the breakfast today. Do you know the way to the main kitchen?”
“I do,” Shen Jixue nodded obediently, taking the food box from him.
He hesitated, seeming to want to say more but eventually swallowed his words.
“Once you’ve got the breakfast, come straight back. Don’t linger outside,” he instructed.
Shen Jixue saw him off, her voice sweet, “Got it, Brother Xu. Go quickly.”
Xu Chang was a master of concealment.
Despite having formed a Golden Core, he hid his cultivation level.
If Shen Jixue hadn’t noticed how his travel times were shorter than a single incense stick’s burn—a pace much faster than an ordinary man’s—and deliberately probed him, she wouldn’t have discovered it.
Today’s time frame was shorter than usual; he must have turned back halfway before reaching the main kitchen.
Carrying the food box, Shen Jixue left the room.
As she jogged past Lin Mozhi’s door, she caught a fleeting glimpse of a figure inside, so quick it felt like an illusion.
She didn’t stop, continuing on her way, clutching a small green porcelain jar to her chest.
The winters in Feixue City were long, the snow unmelting.
Plum blossom trees were scattered throughout the Lin residence, and it was now their blooming season, their fragrance pervasive.
Halfway along, Shen Jixue veered off into a plum blossom grove beside the corridor, ensuring no one was around.
She chose a short plum blossom tree, raised the green porcelain jar high, and braced her leg against the trunk, shaking it vigorously.
The soft snow on the branches showered down, filling the jar but also covering her in white.
At the corner of the corridor, a shadow flitted by.
Before she could get a good look, it disappeared, so swiftly it seemed like an illusion.
Feigning ignorance, Shen Jixue sealed the jar, hugged it close, and ran toward the main kitchen with the food box in hand.
When she returned to Songhe Courtyard, Xu Chang was nowhere to be seen, and Lin Mozhi’s door remained tightly shut, occasional coughs leaking out.
Shen Jixue stepped up and knocked on the door.
“Young Master, I’ve brought the food back.”
After a moment, Luyi opened the door, blocking Shen Jixue from entering with the food box.
Raising her voice, she said, “Ah Xue, you must be freezing. Go back to your room and warm yourself by the fire.”
Seeing Shen Jixue about to say something, Luyi’s expression turned frosty.
She lowered her voice sharply, “Hurry along now.”
Shrinking visibly, Shen Jixue produced the green porcelain jar she had been cradling and offered it with both hands.
Her voice dropped to a soft murmur, “Sister Luyi, I gathered snowmelt water from the plum blossom branches. Dampening a cloth with it and applying it to the young master’s eyes could help.”
Luyi glanced at Shen Jixue’s reddened fingers and, without saying much, took the jar and tucked it into her sleeve dismissively.
“Got it.”
As Shen Jixue opened her mouth to say more, Luyi impatiently slammed the door shut with a loud bang.
Listening to the footsteps pause briefly before fading away, Luyi then carried the food box inside.
“She’s gone?”
The youth sitting by the table, his eyes covered with a white cloth, was dressed neatly and leisurely sipping hot tea.
He showed no trace of the supposed urgent illness.
Luyi set the food box aside on the already-laden table.
The dishes were a feast of delicacies—any connoisseur could tell they came from the renowned Wangu Pavilion in the city, costing at least a silver ingot for the spread.
“Yes, Master,” Luyi replied, her face calm as she placed the green porcelain jar on the table and respectfully asked, “What should we do with this bottle of plum blossom snowmelt water?”
Lin Mozhi tilted his head slightly, and Xu Chang, standing behind him, stepped forward.
“This jar of snowmelt water was indeed collected personally by the girl. She had no contact with others on her way to and from the main kitchen. However, I couldn’t follow her too closely inside the kitchen, so I cannot confirm if she interacted with anyone there.”
Lin Mozhi set down his teacup, pondering briefly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Either this girl is genuinely naive, or whoever is behind her is playing a long game. Time will tell.”
He tapped the jar with two fingers, his tone indifferent.
“As for this? Discard it.”
“Understood,” Luyi replied, lowering her head. She then asked, “And if she brings another?”
Supported by Xu Chang, Lin Mozhi rose, grabbing a bamboo cane to navigate his way outside.
“If she brings another, just accept it and dispose of it when she’s not looking.”
Shen Jixue’s earnest gesture meant nothing to him.
Luyi gathered the green porcelain jar.
Having served Lin Mozhi for over four years, she could guess his intentions.
From the moment the girl was sent to Songhe Courtyard by Steward Zhang, the young master had been wary of her.
His gentle demeanor was merely a facade to placate her.
It even made the girl overly concerned about the young master’s eye condition, going so far as to trouble herself collecting plum blossom snowmelt water.
Expressionless, Luyi opened the jar and poured out the half-melted snowmelt water, which Shen Jixue had warmed all the way back in her arms, onto a corner of the courtyard wall.
The Lin residence was far from harmonious.
Though the young master bore the title of eldest son, his mother had gone mad when he was a child.
Officially declared deceased, she had actually been confined by the family patriarch.
At first, the patriarch provided for her well, but after remarrying and bringing a new mistress into the house, his affections waned.
Worse, he committed heinous acts, leaving the young master bedridden and his eyes veiled with cloth.
Otherwise, with his talent, the young master would have embarked on the immortal path and even been accepted by Xuanxiao Sect, the leader of the Three Great Sects.
Suppressing her anger, Luyi ensured the snowmelt water was emptied and stored the jar.
As she turned to leave, she caught sight of a shadow shrinking back from the corner of her eye.
Growing wary, she strode over quickly but found nothing.
Dismissing it as a trick of the eye, she walked away.
Once her footsteps faded, Shen Jixue emerged from another corner, approaching the spot where Luyi had stood.
Lowering her gaze to the freshly formed ice patch in the snow, she stared at it for a long moment before leaving.
So it was just a mask of gentleness.
Recalling her impression of Lin Mozhi that day, Shen Jixue smiled faintly, her lowered eyes concealing a ruthless intent.
She wondered, when he fell completely in love with her and she finally killed him, would he still be able to maintain that serene smile?
That scene would be so delightful.
