I am the old, fiery-faced man from the senior department.

The ancient trees are lush, and rainwater slides down the canopy, leaving the area beneath the canopy dry.

That place looks like a good spot to take shelter from the rain.

An ordinary traveler would definitely run there immediately to take shelter from the rain.

But she is no ordinary person.

The artist slightly curled the corners of his mouth.

There haven't been many opportunities for this kid to broaden his horizons, but this time I'll show him what kind of extraordinary person she is, the one he calls "sir" so often!

The painter picked up his brush, using rain as ink, and with just a few strokes, sketched a lifelike image of a house.

The painting hovered in mid-air, frozen in place. Then, it was twisted and transformed into reality by an inexplicable force.

A real little house appeared out of nowhere, with rainwater running down the roof tiles and splashing onto the ground.

"Sir...you're amazing!"

The little devil was indeed shocked and exclaimed in amazement.

The artist nodded slightly, then walked towards the house.

The rain falls softly, obscuring the true nature of relationships.

The rain gradually intensified, and the sound of splashing water drifted into the room through the window.

The painter sat on the bed he had painted, listening to the rain while watching the bustling daylight.

"Sir, you are really amazing. You actually drew rice that you can actually eat."

"The firewood is also a really good piece of wood that can be burned."

"Wow! Even the water is drinkable! It's so sweet!"

The little devil's praises rang out continuously. Although the artist didn't say anything, her slightly wagging tail clearly showed her good mood.

"Snap~"

A warm, bright orange light flickered, accompanied by the pleasant sound of burning wood. Bai Zhou, panting heavily, placed the small pot containing water and rice on the fire.

"Carrot porridge~...carrot porridge~..."

I washed the carrots that I had dug up from the ground not long ago and laid them out on the cutting board. Then I started chopping vegetables during the day.

Chop fresh carrots and some unexpectedly harvested, blanched broccoli into small pieces, then add them to the already boiled rice porridge and stir well.

During the day, he took out a small wooden box from his all-purpose little trunk. Inside were seven or eight pieces of rock sugar. He took out two pieces and put them into the porridge, stirring gently to let the rock sugar dissolve and add some sweetness to the porridge.

The painter was drawing rain at a small table on the bed.

A good rain nourishes all things.

The rain brought poetry, but also a touch of chill.

Behind the chill lies a faint loneliness.

Yes, I am ultimately not a "human being," and ultimately...

"Sir, have some porridge to warm yourself up. It's a bit chilly today, and it wouldn't be good for you to get sick."

The artist's rare attempt at self-deprecation was shattered by the brat, who gave him a quick glance.

"I've tested the temperature, and it's just right. Please try it. I'll go prepare some hot water for you to wash up."

The artist felt a slight warmth in his palm as he looked down at the bowl and porridge.

The bowls were wooden bowls, the kind that came with the house. I don't know how the little devil managed to pull them out... I suppose she drew them subconsciously.

The porridge looks amazing, with bright orange carrot pieces mixed with tender white rice grains, and garnished with emerald green broccoli. You can smell its enticing aroma with just a gentle sniff.

And so it happened again. The little devil just made the decision for her without any regard for whether she wanted it or not.

She held the spoon between her slender fingers, scooped up a spoonful of rice porridge, and took a sip.

The porridge is good.

She ate the whole bowl of porridge, its sweet taste making her mouth water.

"Sir, another bowl, please."

Hearing the sound of a bowl falling onto the table while boiling water in the daytime, he immediately hurried over to prepare to serve another bowl.

"No need, you go and do your work."

The artist raised her hand to stop him. Even if she gave all the porridge to him, she wouldn't be able to fill her own stomach. But this little brat had been gnawing on hard, dry food lately, so it was better to save the porridge for him to soothe his stomach.

Is it not to your liking?

The little devil seemed to ignore her good intentions and instead showed that self-blaming expression again.

"We just ate those fish at noon, how can we possibly eat any more now?"

The artist, enraged, hit him on the head with his pen again.

"Oh...hehe."

Rubbing his forehead where he had been tapped, the other person smiled sheepishly, then took the bowl and left.

A short while later, he returned carrying several items.

"Sir, the toiletries, tooth powder, and towels are ready, as is the water, which is slightly warm."

"..."

The artist looked at the pile of things in front of him with some worry and made a heavy stroke on the painting.

Ugh, she's not an ordinary person. As an officially recognized immortal who has been granted a pardon, while she may not be able to do something as exaggerated as creating the world, she still has the ability to maintain her own purity. Why would she need these mundane things?

but……

"Sir, sir..."

This kid... he's really doing this out of good intentions, but he doesn't know her identity.

"This is mint-flavored tooth powder, sir. This one is green tea flavored. Which one would you like to use?"

"Mint."

She didn't want to try green tea's strange taste a second time.

Tea is meant to be drunk; what's the point of adding it to other things?

The artist picked up a toothbrush covered in tooth powder, took a sip of warm water to rinse his mouth, and began cleaning his oral cavity.

Then came washing my face and shampooing.

The artist suddenly realized he shouldn't have painted such a fully equipped house just to impress someone. The little devil, having found everything he needed, couldn't wait to give her a thorough wash.

However, to be fair, the little devil's hair-washing technique is still quite enjoyable.

His fingers glided through his hair, gently rubbing and washing it, and a faint jasmine fragrance wafted to his nose, delicate and sweet.

That makes sense. If she were uncomfortable, she would have killed that audacious brat long ago. How could she have given him the opportunity to repeatedly defy her superiors?

Besides... as an attendant, isn't it only right that you take good care of the person you serve?

The painter suddenly understood why those relatives and friends had joined the imperial court.

How can one not enjoy being served like this?

■

Gently wiping away the water droplets from her long, ink-like hair, the painter tied it together with a thin string, straightened up, and watched Bai Zhou run to the door to pour water. Then, she silently took off her shoes and placed them on the ground.

Her fair feet were immersed in the basin of water, and the slightly hot water made her feel comfortable and she couldn't help but let out a soft sigh.

During the day, he would sit on a small stool opposite the artist and earnestly perform his massage work.

The little devil's hands are so soft. He's so skilled at serving others, yet his hands don't have any calluses. It's strange.

How long has he been following me?

A few months? Or is it from a previous year?

The artist looked at him and felt as if he had just found him yesterday.

He meticulously remembered everything she said, did, liked, and disliked, yet she had no desire to understand him at all… No, rather than saying she had no interest in him, it was as if he were a familiar acquaintance she no longer wanted to know.

strangeness.

While the artist was lost in thought, Bai Zhou, who had been looking down, suddenly looked up at her and said something strange.

"Sir, your feet are so beautiful."

"Σ(???ノ)ノ"

What, what is this kid saying!

The artist pulled his leg away, trying to lift his foot out of the basin of water.

Just do your job normally, why are you saying such strange things this time!

“Like that piece of jade I saw in Liuquan Town last time… no, sir’s horn is even more beautiful than that piece of jade.”

Oh, so this is the corner.

The artist took the brush and tapped his head under his puzzled gaze.

"Hey, my horn isn't very nice at all. It doesn't have that bright shine, it doesn't have that nice curve, and one of them is broken... sir?"

###

I tapped him on the head again, and his face was full of confusion. He probably didn't know why I tapped him.

Hmph, this foolish boy.

However, since I've become interested, it's not unreasonable to take this opportunity to give him some advice.

I straightened my face and earnestly advised him:

"Nothing in this world is born ugly...Everything has its own unique beauty..."

Unlike those guys, I'm not eloquent, and I can't think of any nice words to say. All I can tell him is that he shouldn't hate himself...

Ha, I even advise others not to give up on themselves... When will I be able to face myself honestly?