"Master, please wait for Abao here." A young man, around sixteen or seventeen, dressed in a blue robe. His face was round and smooth, like a fresh apple. With deep, dark eyes full of sincerity, he hurried after the gentleman ahead. "You're so slow! You shouldn't be this sluggish!" The man in front was about twenty years old, with a cascade of black hair held up by a single white jade hairpin. He wore a crescent-shaped robe, a jade belt adorned with orange stones at his waist, and black boots with golden embroidery. His brows were sharp like swords, his eyes bright as stars. His high nose and slightly curved lips gave him a charming, slightly mischievous smile. With his well-defined hands holding a jade fan, he gently waved it back and forth, exuding graceful elegance. "Master, are you really going to Yue Xiang Pavilion?" Abao reached up to the gentleman, his round face now furrowed in worry, as if it had become a wrinkled dumpling. "My lord said he wants me to watch over you—don't let you go in." The lord explained that the ladies in Yue Xiang Pavilion were all delicate and fussy, each one eating people without His deep, pools-of-quiet-water gaze never failed to cast a seductive glance toward the blushing young ladies on either side. Ah, how troublesome it is to be handsome. "Master said you, sir, are the Supreme Champion of the Martial World, and that you should pay attention to your appearance." Abao widened his eyes, striving to counter this. How could the lord always be casting such lingering glances at the young ladies, as if his body were going through spasms? That was strange indeed. "Nonsense," the man arched his brow. "The old man is merely rigid and out of touch. What's so extraordinary about being the Supreme Champion of the Martial World? Isn't everyone—regardless of title—still required to eat, drink, sleep, and attend to their bodily needs? Shouldn't the very essence of being a champion be to fulfill one's natural desires? If that's the case, then who would want to be a champion, and who would even bother to take up the mantle?" By nature, he was free-spirited and unbound by rigid customs. To expect him to conform to such strict rules would be a disappointment. Indeed, you would never achieve the results you hoped for. "How can "Hey, Bao, is it really me who's your master, or is it that old man?" The man looked puzzled at the servant's agitated expression. He had clearly brought him back to the estate himself—so why was the old man now more authoritative than he was? "Of course, it's you," Bao replied, his head bowed, hesitating. "Then what was all that fuss about?" The man gently tapped Bao's round head with his jade fan. "Don't keep talking—just shut up and come with me. Or do I have to leave you behind?" "No, sir, don't leave me behind," Bao said, worried. He absolutely didn't want the man to go on his own, or else how would he explain it back to the old man? With his large, pleading eyes fixed on the man, he pleaded. "If you don't want to be left behind, just follow me," the man said, rolling his eyes and walking steadily forward. Honestly, a man acting like a puppy—how utterly embarrassing! He really questioned how he had ever managed to bring this one back in the first place. "Yes, sir." "Upon hearing this, Abao broke into laughter again. He hurried after him. The shop stood at the corner, bustling and splendid. Under the moonlight, it seemed even more enchanting. Today marked the annual lantern festival of the Tian Yao Dynasty, with streets adorned with colorful lanterns. The lanterns themselves varied in design—some shaped like riddles, others like couplets—and there were even couples using the occasion to meet and share moments. Amid the throngs of people, Abao felt excited. His large, round eyes scanned left and right, as if he were a simple newcomer to the city. "Sir, look over there—what's so unusual?" The man had initially found Abao's innocent actions endearing, but now, upon hearing his excited exclamations, he couldn't help tapping his fan against his forehead. He had already noticed countless eyes turning toward them—how truly embarrassing. "What's so unusual?" he asked, following Abao's gesture. To his sight, a girl of about eight or nine years old was being surrounded by a crowd. Ah, no surprise—just another well-bred child from a wealthy family, raised to be delicate and refined. He thought with a dismissive Abao is naturally curious and unconventional—what's strange about that? "Sir, that young lady must be truly remarkable," Abao stammered, eyes wide with astonishment as he took in her grand presentation. In all his experience, only people of high stature and status could command such splendor. "Hahaha..." the man couldn't help but laugh at Abao's simple, earnest words. "Stupid Abao—she's nothing more than a spoiled, well-bred daughter of a wealthy family." Though accustomed to being the center of attention, she had grown used to the constant gaze. Yet she sensed two particularly distinct glances—one pure and one filled with clear disdain. When she glanced aside, she saw a young man in a blue robe with a cherubic face, his large, round eyes gazing at her with genuine innocence and no trace of malice. The other was a young man in a white robe with golden trim, around twenty years old. His hair, like fine silk, was neatly coiled high on his head, adorned with a jade hairpin. He was handsome, with a touch of boldness and freedom, yet his gaze—deep and still as a quiet pond—seemed utterly unimpressed. Her brows furrowed, uncomfortable under such scrutiny. What did this man think he was? Though he held her in contempt. Fuming, she heard him say he was merely a spoiled, wealthy daughter. Well, well—how dare he dare to bother me! The young lady and the attendants sent by the general watched her furrowed brows and didn’t even feel their bodies tremble. Heaven help her—she was about to lose her temper again. What a nuisance! That man was truly dreadful—how could he, when he wanted to die, burden them with his presence? Eyes turned sharply upon the culprit, all radiating resentment. "What are you all staring at me for?" The man found it hard to look away under such reproachful glances. "You're staring at a pig, are you not? Are you really one?" Coldly, she glanced sideways at the self-important man, her tone equally cold. "You—you—" The man's deep gaze, startled, fixed upon Cold-Bend, surprised. He had expected nothing more than a spoiled young lady. Yet she exuded an air so crisp and commanding—so far beyond her youthful appearance. "Look at you—so composed, it's surprising you're still stammering." Cold Wanyuan smiled coldly, her tone sharp. How dare she dismiss her, call her a spoiled, pampered heiress? "Wow, you're really amazing!" Abao admired how, despite her young age, Cold Wanyuan had completely silenced the lord. Her round, sparkling eyes filled with admiration, fixed on her, completely unaware that the lord had turned pale. "Shut up!" the man said, his face dark, and he tapped Abao's head with his jade fan. Abao frowned, touched her head, and with a look of embarrassment, stepped back. Cold Wanyuan watched Abao's face, now crumpled like a dumpling, and suddenly broke into a bright smile. With her deep, gem-like eyes, she winked at him, teasing, "Big brother, would you like to leave this proud pig and follow me instead?" "Huh?" Abao blinked, puzzled. "No, no, please don't!" In the background, Yin Qin quietly opened her mouth, making gestures. The man, repeatedly described as a pig by Cold Wanyuan, was left bewildered. Fuming, Jun's face twitched as he coldly huffed at Ling Wanwan, "I never thought at your young age you'd be so sharp-tongued. Truly, it's no surprise that the daughters of wealthy families are so well-bred." He deliberately emphasized the word "well-bred." "My well-bred certainly doesn't compare to yours," Ling Wanwan retorted, with a sharp contrast between her polished exterior and her inner frailty. "Master, aren't you going to the Yuexiang Pavilion?" Abao watched his lord arguing endlessly with the young girl on the street, growing increasingly surprised. It seemed as though his lord had lost his composure entirely—no different from a child—and couldn't help but ask. "The Yuexiang Pavilion?" Ling Wanwan smiled, "I didn't know you were not just a pig, but a lusty one." *Pff!* Yin Qin and the others couldn't help but laugh. The lady's way of speaking was truly impressive. "You little thing," the man's brows furrowed as he clenched his hands tightly. This young girl had a talent for driving one to the brink of frustration—had it not been for the fact that she was merely a Cold Bending glanced at him, truly shaken by the sharpness of his words. Within just a few sentences, his veins were bulging. The man struggled to suppress his inner anger, forcing a smile. "You, a little kid, know what you're talking about? That's called charm. Do you understand?" "Charm?" Cold Bending scoffed. "Isn't a man just an animal that thinks with his lower body? And yet, you're nothing but a pig among animals." Stunned was no longer enough to describe his state of mind. How could such a child be raised? To speak so boldly—more so than someone actually living in the world of romance. "You—" the man stared at her, "you're quite fierce." With a sweeping motion of his robe, he hurried off, choosing to overlook the young girl's boldness. A man of stature, he didn't take offense at a child's behavior. "Sir, wait for Abao!" When the elder hurried away, Abao quickly ran after him. Before parting, she didn't forget to glance back at the young girl, once again impressed by her strength. "Madam, they've been driven away by you." "Yin Qin stared at the figure of the man retreating, dumbfounded—another who had fallen at the hands of the lady. Yet he was truly handsome; thinking of his delicate features, a blush crept up her cheeks. 'Already gone, and you're still looking,' Cold Wanyan curved her lips, finding it amusing to see her personal maid's shy, spring-like demeanor. Still, the man's appearance was indeed quite impressive—rivaling modern celebrities. If it weren't for having first provoked her, she wouldn't have bothered to correct him. 'Yin Qin, you're also seventeen now, aren't you? Shall I introduce you to the lady?' After releasing a sigh, she brightened and teased the maid further. 'Lady,' Yin Qin stomped her feet, pouting. Truly, the lady was still just a nine-year-old child, yet she seemed to know so much. Sometimes Yin Qin wondered—what exactly did the lady's mind contain? 'Come on, don't let that lustful pig spoil my pleasure in strolling around,' Wanyan said, brushing off the delicate maid's thin face. The group moved off together, grand and impressive. ——"The Nine-Year-Old Demon Princess"—— Chu Yuheng, the second male lead, makes his entrance: Give me your votes, give me your votes! The backstage has been completely revamped—after hours of troubleshooting, we finally managed to get it live. Fortunately, we found the old version and successfully uploaded it. It wasn't easy! Dear fans, please vote for us, leave your footprints, and share our show on your feeds. Hugs and kisses all around! Your support is what fuels Meiru's journey.