I raised stunning young ladies, but they all wanted to possess me.

Gu Yan looked down at her arm, then looked up at her.

Her eyes were still closed, and her breathing remained unchanged.

"Wow, this is a huge pillow! Don't run away!"

Her voice was muffled, with the sticky, dreamlike quality of her sleep talking.

He was clearly talking in his sleep, but his hand movements were anything but vague.

Before Gu Yan could react, she was wrapped around him like an octopus.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her head in his chest.

The long pink hair tickled his neck, and the ends of the hair carried a faint peach scent.

Her cheek pressed against his collarbone, her warm, soft breath brushing against his skin.

Gu Yan froze, motionless like a statue.

Looking down at the pink bundle in my arms, my mind went completely blank.

His left hand was pinned under her shoulder and he couldn't move it at all.

His right hand was still raised in mid-air, unsure of where to put it.

Her legs were also entangled around her knees; her legs were long and straight.

Like a supple snake, it bound him so tightly he couldn't move.

But she kept rubbing against him, her forehead rolling back and forth on his chest.

He was muttering something completely incomprehensible.

"Don't move, let me hold you for a while."

"This cushion is so hard."

"Why is there a heartbeat sound? Is this pillow broken?"

The straps of her silk pajamas slipped down again.

Her snow-white shoulder brushed against his arm, its touch smooth and soft.

Gu Yan felt her heart pounding so fast it could beat a drum.

He hadn't expected this at all.

The superpower hypnotized the person, but it didn't hypnotize the sleepwalker.

He took a deep breath and began to think of a way to break free.

First, I tried putting my right hand down; I just moved it slightly.

She tightened her grip on her arms and muttered something under her breath.

"Don't run, or I'll get angry."

Gu Yan had no choice but to change her strategy, using all the contortion techniques she had learned in her life.

He slowly pulled his left hand out.

First, rotate your wrist, slowly sliding your wrist bone out from between her fingers.

Then shrink your arm further, moving it outwards inch by inch, like taking off a glove.

She would frown and tighten her fingers a little with every inch she pulled out.

He would also let out a dissatisfied mutter.

"Don't move, be good."

Gu Yan held her breath, sweat beading on her forehead.

He felt this was even more tiring than fighting the Iron Clan in the secret realm during the day.

At least you can fight the Ironmen openly and honestly.

Now I don't even dare to breathe loudly.

It was quite a struggle to pull out the entire left arm.

My vest was almost soaked with sweat.

He looked down at his left hand, which he had finally managed to free.

I was just about to pull my leg out as well.

Fu Wanqing in her arms suddenly moved again.

Her arm groped in the air for a moment, and she frowned.

Gu Yan reacted quickly, grabbing his pillow and stuffing it into her arms.

The moment her hand touched the pillow, it was as if she had found some treasure.

He immediately hugged the pillow tightly to his chest with both hands.

He buried his face in it and rubbed it against it, a satisfied smile curving his lips.

"Found it, it's soft."

She muttered something under her breath, her tone carrying a childlike sense of pride.

She hugged the pillow even tighter, curling herself up into a ball.

He fell into a deep sleep again, and his breathing became even and long once more.

Gu Yan stood by the bed, panting heavily.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He looked down and sniffed his collar.

It all smelled of peaches from Fu Wanqing, sweet and cloying.

Even her arms were covered in that faint sweet fragrance.

He rubbed the smell off his arm with his fingers, but couldn't get rid of it.

His hypnotic abilities must have been successful.

The hypnosis technique of Kyoka no O-shin has never failed.

But this woman is even more troublesome when she's sleepwalking than when she's awake.

She's a chatterbox and quick with her hands; once she's in a hug, she won't let go.

He cursed silently and pulled down the hem of his vest.

I smelled my shoulder again, and it still smelled like peaches.

Never mind, business is more important. We can wash off the smell when we get back.

He couldn't see Fu Wanqing's face clearly in the darkness.

All that could be seen was her silhouette, curled up in a ball, clutching a pillow.

Gu Yan quietly squatted down and picked up the slippers in her hand.

I walked barefoot on the wooden floor of the corridor, feeling a slight coolness under my feet.

He suppressed his breathing to a minimum, making it almost inaudible.

Each step was taken very lightly, starting with the toes and then the heels.

Quieter than a cat, more professional than a thief.

The corridor was pitch black, with only a small nightlight at the end emitting a faint glow.

The light was orange-yellow and didn't shine very far.

Gu Yan walked along the wall, the wooden floor making no sound under her feet.

He finally reached the end of the corridor, and around the corner was the living room.

Just when he thought everything was going well.

He didn't know that after he gently closed the door...

Fu Wanqing's beautiful eyelashes twitched slightly.

She turned over and hugged the pillow in her arms even tighter.

He buried his nose in the pillow and took a soft breath.

The pillow still carried the faint scent of soap shavings from Gu Yan.

Her brows furrowed slightly, then slowly relaxed.

She buried her face even deeper into the pillow.

But she didn't open her eyes.

I just turned over in my dream.

The living room was even darker, with the curtains drawn tightly shut.

Only the moonlight from outside the window squeezed in through the gaps in the curtains.

Cut a thin white line on the ground.

Gu Yan walked silently through the living room.

The sofa and coffee table became silent black silhouettes in the darkness.

The air was filled with the lingering smell of lunch, mixed with a faint aroma of tea.

He reached for the sofa and took his coat off the back of the chair.

His fingers touched the hard object wrapped inside his coat—the scabbard of the Demon-Suppressing Blade.

He unbuttoned his coat and held the Demon-Suppressing Blade in his hand.

The cool touch spread from my palm to my fingertips, and the familiar sense of security returned.

The fine lines engraved on the scabbard pressed against my fingertips.

With the knife in his hand, his breathing became more steady.

He began searching the living room, his movements quiet but quick.

Pulling out the drawer under the TV cabinet revealed a jumble of miscellaneous items.

Old batteries, instruction manual, and several expired supermarket coupons.

I rummaged through the small cabinet next to the shoe cabinet.

Inside were several folding umbrellas and a nearly empty bottle of shoe polish.

I also looked into the compartment under the coffee table; there were only a few old magazines from last year.

The cover was curled at the edges, and the corners of the pages were yellowed.

The kitchen door was wide open, and he silently walked in and glanced around.

The stove was wiped clean, without a trace of grease.

The bowls and chopsticks were all put away in the cabinet, arranged neatly according to size.

The bottles of seasonings were neatly arranged on the table.

The labels on the soy sauce and vinegar bottles both face outwards, and even the spacing between them is the same.

Everything was tidied up perfectly, so very well organized.

It was this excessive tidiness that made him feel uneasy.

The stove in an ordinary family kitchen wouldn't be this clean.

Unless they never use it, or they're covering something up.

Finally, he found an old wooden cabinet next to the refrigerator.

The cabinet is an old-fashioned camphor wood cabinet, at least twenty years old.

There are several small holes on the surface of the cabinet caused by insects, and the edges are also worn.

But the drawer handles were new, made of brass, and polished to a shine.

It doesn't match the cabinet's vintage feel at all.

He pulled open the drawers one by one.

Inside were needles, thread, fabrics, and a few yellowed cookbooks.

When I flipped to the bottom drawer, it was only halfway out.

A brass lock was fastened to the edge of the drawer, its head polished to a shine.

It reflected a faint glow in the dim light.