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Master Is Sick — Chapter 9. Part 1


The next morning, Mu Xuan brought me back to Cang Lan Mountain.

He lived alone on a separate peak, with a private courtyard, fresh air, and beautiful scenery. Yet I had no mind to appreciate any of it. From the moment I stepped through the gate of his courtyard, my eyes were darting around, searching for any trace of the Ling Jing. I was so focused that I didn’t watch my step and walked straight into Mu Xuan’s back.

I neither cried out in pain nor stepped back; I simply stayed pressed against his back.

If my senses weren’t wrong, the hard object on Mu Xuan’s back was exactly what I had been looking for—the Ling Jing.

I reached out a hand, intending to tug at his clothes and snatch the mirror. But before I could act, Mu Xuan turned abruptly, his shoulder bumping me so hard that I stumbled back several steps, my eyes lingering on his back with great reluctance.

“Were you planning to stab me in the back again?” Mu Xuan raised an eyebrow at me.

I mumbled an excuse. “Master, you had something on your back. I was just checking for you…”

Mu Xuan shot me a glance, then pointed to a room on the right. “That’s the woodshed. Clean it up and stay there.”

The… woodshed?

“Not satisfied?”

“No… no, it’s great. Thank you, Master.”

He nodded and returned to his room.

I bit my lip, feeling utterly stifled. But life always throws us into situations we can’t avoid. I consoled myself with that thought and walked to the woodshed.

The moment I opened the door, a cloud of dust burst out, nearly choking me to death. Covering my mouth, I stepped back several times and took a look inside. This was the most dilapidated woodshed I had ever seen.

I stared silently for a moment before swallowing my frustration. After all, I was only planning to stay here for a few months, during which I’d have to figure out how to steal Mu Xuan’s mirror. Considering my plans, it wasn’t entirely fair to him. A poor living situation seemed like a small price to pay.

Rolling up my sleeves, I held my breath and started cleaning.

As I worked, I mulled over the situation. The Demon Lord had said the Ling Jing was on Mu Xuan, but I hadn’t expected him to carry it on his person! For someone as seemingly ascetic as him, carrying a mirror was ridiculous. Did he pull it out every now and then to admire his beauty?

How absurd!

But since he had this quirk, there was nothing I could do about it. If I wanted the mirror, I’d first have to get Mu Xuan to undress in front of me…

At the moment, though, he was too wary of me to strip so casually. I needed a plan.

I remembered the Demon Lord mentioning that Mu Xuan had a fondness for music. A confident smile tugged at my lips. When it came to music, I dared not speak for other instruments, but my flute-playing was renowned as the best in Cang Lan… three hundred years from now. I was confident this would win him over.

That night, I launched my first step in the operation to “steal the mirror by stealing his heart.”

Under a clear, moonlit sky, I stood in the courtyard beneath a lone tree, raising my flute to play. The melody soared, graceful and haunting, and even I couldn’t help but lose myself in its beauty.

“What is all this racket?”

A sudden voice interrupted me, breaking the spell. Blinking in surprise, I looked at Mu Xuan. “I’m playing the flute, Master.”

Mu Xuan regarded me for a moment. “If you want to stay here, there are four rules: work diligently, read more, eat less, and don’t make noise.”

Don’t make noise?

I felt deeply offended. “Master, you can’t insult me like this. I think my flute-playing is rather good.”

“Good?” His tone was steeped in mockery. I bristled, about to retort, when he stepped forward, snatched the flute from my hands, and wiped it with my sleeve. Then, raising it to his lips, he played the first note.

And I froze.

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