Milton stood at the door, frowning at the fact that it wasn’t locked. Although the villa looked clean and orderly, its security measures were practically nonexistent. Alarm bells rang in his mind—could something have happened to Gu Qing? Without a second thought, he pushed the door open.
“Gu Qing?” he called tentatively.
The house was empty of any insects, and a faint aroma of tea lingered in the air. Everything inside was unnaturally tidy. He moved along the long corridor, about to search deeper, when the sound of water trickling came from the backyard. Milton’s brow furrowed; he rushed toward the source.
Mist hung thickly in the backyard, rising from the hot spring and obscuring vision. As he stepped carefully forward, his foot slipped. Instinctively, his hand shot out to grab something—and in that instant, his palm pressed against warm, springy flesh. Almost simultaneously, a sharp, startled cry rang through the mist.
“—Ah!”
“Y-you… how did you just barge in… I’ve… I’ve been completely seen… ugh…” Gu Qing’s voice trembled, tears brimming in his eyes, ears reddened, looking like a wronged, flustered bride.
Milton’s gaze finally fixed—and froze. His hand was resting on Gu Qing’s chest. As the mist cleared, he saw him standing in the hot spring, wet black hair clinging to his shoulders, bare from the waist up, a white towel wrapped loosely around his waist. His bronze-toned skin glistened in the water’s reflection, droplets hanging across a sculpted chest, eyes wide with fear.
—Bang! Milton’s mind exploded, his face heating as if aflame. Flustered, he spun around, stammering, “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to! The door was unlocked, and I called out but got no response—I was worried… I really didn’t know you were bathing!”
Inside his consciousness, the little Heavenly Dao ball rolled and squealed with excitement: “Oh hoho! Sword Venerable, that move was brilliant~ Pretending to be wronged and getting the general to fall for it! Who could resist?”
Gu Qing rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, lips twitching in amusement. “Don’t make noise. I need to think of a way to make sure he doesn’t come running back tomorrow or the day after.”
Milton, flustered, tried to step back—but his foot slipped again, and his entire body pitched forward. At the last moment, a hand reached out from behind, steadying him. Gu Qing grabbed him—but the wet ground betrayed them, and both tumbled backward.
Milton ended up sprawled against Gu Qing, chest pressed against that scorching, firm muscle. The contrast of Gu Qing’s deep bronze against his own pale skin was striking, overwhelming. His heart jolted violently—he had never been this close to a male insect before.
For the first time, he truly saw Gu Qing’s physique: broad shoulders, defined, powerful lines, abs like carved stone, exuding explosive strength and wild beauty, the very image of a legendary war god.
Instinctively, he tried to push up—but the wet, slippery surface thwarted him, leaving his hand brushing over the subtle tremors of Gu Qing’s muscles. His heartbeat pounded like war drums, and his cheeks flamed crimson.
Inside his mind, the little ball went wild: “Woooah! Absolute genius! Sword Venerable is totally on purpose—letting the general fall, then turning into a human pillow—so clearly the aggressor!”
Gu Qing’s voice was calm, teasing: “Caught you. You’re too impatient.”
He narrowed his eyes, a playful drawl in his tone: “General, if you keep moving, that towel might not stay up… or were you… on purpose?”
Milton froze, muscles rigid, trapped against Gu Qing’s heated chest. Every breath made him acutely aware of the dangerous proximity. He dared not look up or down—up meant meeting Gu Qing’s amused black eyes; down… well, it was forbidden territory.
Gu Qing leaned closer, hot breath grazing his ear. “General, you’ve seen and touched me… now, shouldn’t you consider… taking responsibility?”
The little ball in his consciousness lost its mind: “Whaaaat?! Flirted and carried away? This isn’t a cultivation drama, it’s a proposal scene!”
Milton’s face burned so fiercely he almost passed out.
Gu Qing chuckled softly, voice low and magnetic: “Not moving? Good. Stay still, or… I can’t promise this ‘accident’ won’t escalate into something more… serious.”
Milton’s body obeyed instinctively, nerves taut, heart racing uncontrollably.
Gu Qing, reading every microreaction—reddening ears, trembling lashes, irregular breaths—locked onto them inch by inch.
“Hm… trembling, General—is that nerves? Or…” Gu Qing deliberately dragged the tail of his words.
“Y-you… shut up!” Milton ground out, voice hoarse, face like a ripe fruit, unwilling to meet those dark, amused eyes.
Gu Qing’s teasing paused, his gaze lingering on Milton’s flushed, breathless face. The silver hair, violet eyes misted by steam, traces of red at the corners—this beauty eclipsed all past aloofness, blazing with an intoxicating allure.
The distance between them was… nonexistent.
Gu Qing tilted slightly, planting one hand firmly on the ground, and hoisted them both upright before Milton could react.
“What… are you doing!” Milton gasped.
Gu Qing leaned close, lips near his ear, voice teasing: “After all that touching… still shy? Besides… seems your towel might just fall.” He gave a slight, deliberate shift.
Milton’s face darkened crimson; instinctively, he clutched Gu Qing’s shoulders, frozen in his embrace.
“Better not move,” Gu Qing murmured with a smile, breath hot enough to make Milton’s heart pound. “I don’t want you seeing everything… yet.”
Milton’s gaze softened reluctantly, eyes on the violet orbs, and Gu Qing added quietly: “Next time… don’t come alone to a male insect’s home. Especially… someone like me. What if I actually got bullied?”
Milton’s lips parted, no words escaping, heart threatening to burst, ears burning. Trapped in Gu Qing’s arms, there was no escape.
The little ball in his mind had completely erupted:
“Waaaah! What kind of scene is this?! Flirt, then carry away? This isn’t a love drama—it’s a marriage proposal!”
Gu Qing, hearing the chaos, chuckled inwardly, his warm breath swirling around Milton’s ear, low and teasing, threatening to melt all reason:
“Don’t worry, I won’t truly bully you… but if you keep being so forward… I can’t promise what’ll happen next.”
With that, he stepped steadily out of the hot spring, the damp, intoxicating warmth clinging, holding the silver-haired general securely in his arms.
—This storm called “testing the waters” had already silently engulfed them both.