Chapter Fifty-One: Master, Could We Change Places?

My heart brimmed with delight—this time, I had actually managed to persuade Zi Lian to join me for a meal. It seemed that coquettish entreaties and playful charms weren’t only effective with Chi Xiao; Zi Lian, too, responded perfectly to such tactics. I mused that in the future, should I require something of him or inadvertently provoke his ire, these methods I had mastered would serve me well. After all, I’d rather not be cast down from Spirit Cloud Mountain before even a century had passed since my induction—that would be far too humiliating for a little demon fish like me.

The tavern was crowded, lively with clinking cups, laughter, and boisterous drinking games. The moment Zi Lian entered, every gaze in the room turned upon him, and a few curious eyes found their way to me as well. For the first time in my life, I was being scrutinized by so many with such fervent attention—it made me feel a little bashful, yet a subtle pride stirred within my heart.

I glanced up at Zi Lian; his expression remained serene, as if nothing at all had transpired. It was as though those mortals, nearly salivating over his presence, existed in a world entirely apart from his own. While I relished the attention, a pang of displeasure rose within me—my Zi Lian was being ogled by these vulgar people with their crude stares. Swiftly, I strode forward and seized his sleeve, intent on dragging him upstairs.

“Let go.”

We had barely moved a few steps when his tone grew irritable.

“What’s wrong, Master? Don’t you want to go upstairs? Are you truly pleased to be stared at so indecently by all these people?” My mood soured, and my words reflected it; my glare carried both reproach and indignation.

“Nonsense.”

He shot me an angry look and pried my hand from his sleeve. With a flick of his robe, he climbed the wooden stairs at a leisurely pace. I hadn’t said anything too out of line—just a few honest words—but he was still annoyed. Seeing his strained patience, I couldn’t help but want to laugh; his angry expression was simply too adorable, irresistibly so.

“Why are you still standing there? Hurry up and follow me,” he called from around the corner, not forgetting to urge me along.

“Yes, Master. Little Fish is coming.”

Relief washed over me, and I hurried after him. Yet, a small sadness lingered in my heart because he disliked me clinging to his sleeve.

Once upstairs, it struck me suddenly—no wonder this inn felt so familiar since entering. This was the very place where, on my first day among mortals, I had met with Pu Tai to dine and plot how best to approach Zi Lian. Oh no, I thought in silent agony. I remembered this inn well; beside it stood a grand pleasure house.

That western corner along the second row by the wall was where Pu Tai and I had sat drinking and eating last time. Looking northwest from that seat, one could see the imposing flower house perfectly. As my master moved to sit in that very spot, panic seized me. I rushed forward, stumbled, and bumped into the table, causing the teacup to tremble and spill a few drops.

“What’s the matter with you now?” Without even glancing my way, he brushed his sleeve across the tabletop. When it passed, the spilled water was gone.

“Master, can we eat somewhere else?” I spoke softly, watching his brows furrow as he lifted his gaze to me with a trace of impatience.

“Why change places? I find this spot quite satisfactory. Besides, you’ve been complaining about your hunger all the way here. Now that we’re finally upstairs, sit down and eat. We have a long journey ahead.”

“A long journey?” I echoed.

“Indeed,” he replied, nodding with certainty.

“A very long journey…” Oh no, even if a long road awaited us, surely we didn’t have to eat here!

“Master, this place isn’t good. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else?” He set down his teacup and looked at me again. “If you insist on changing places, give me a reason. Convince me, and I’ll consider whether we should move or not.”