Clack, clack-clack. Clack, clack-clack.
The patrolling night watchman struck his wooden clapper in a steady rhythm.
The sound drifted into the stilt house. Fang Yuan opened his dry, gritty eyelids and thought to himself: "It's the fifth watch."
He had lain awake last night for a long while, making plans and arrangements — and when he added it up, he'd slept barely an hour or so.
This body had not yet begun any cultivation, so its stamina was far from robust. Waves of fatigue and drowsiness still clung to body and mind.
But over five hundred years of experience had long since forged in Fang Yuan an iron will as deep and unyielding as steel. This small bit of sleepiness was nothing at all.
He promptly pushed aside the thin silk quilt and rose with clean efficiency.
He pushed open the window. The spring rain had stopped.
A fresh, damp breeze carrying the scent of earth, trees, and wildflowers washed over his face at once. Fang Yuan felt his mind clear instantly, the murky drowsiness driven away completely.
The sun had not yet risen. The sky was a deep blue, hovering somewhere between dark and bright.
Looking out, the stilt houses — built from green bamboo and timber — sat nestled against the surrounding mountains in a scene of quiet, verdant tranquility.
The stilt houses were at least two stories tall, a distinctive structure of the mountain folk's dwellings. Because the terrain was rugged and uneven, the ground floor consisted of massive wooden pillars, while the second floor served as the living quarters.
Fang Yuan and his younger brother Fang Zheng both lived on the second floor.
"Young Master Fang Yuan, you're awake. This servant will come upstairs right away to attend to your washing." At that very moment, a girl's voice floated up from below.
Fang Yuan looked down. It was his personal maid, Shen Cui.
Her looks were middling at best, but she was well put together — dressed in a green tunic with long sleeves and long trousers, embroidered shoes on her feet, and a pearl hairpin nestled in her dark hair. Her whole being radiated youthful vitality.
She glanced up at Fang Yuan with a delighted expression, carrying a basin of water, and came clattering up the stairs.
The water was warm and ready for washing his face. For rinsing his mouth, a willow twig dipped in snow salt was used — it could clean the teeth and whiten them.
Shen Cui attended to him gently, a sweet smile playing on her face, her eyes brimming with coquettish warmth. Then she helped Fang Yuan dress and fasten his buttons, and during the process she repeatedly pressed her full chest against his arm or his back.
Fang Yuan's face was expressionless, his mind as still as calm water.
This maid was not only an informant for his uncle and aunt, but she was vain and fickle by nature. In his previous life, he had been deceived by her. After the Opening Orifice Ceremony, when his status plummeted, she had turned on him in an instant and gave him no shortage of cold stares.
When Fang Zheng arrived, he caught sight of Shen Cui smoothing the wrinkles on the front of Fang Yuan's shirt, and a flicker of envy and jealousy passed through his eyes.
All these years living alongside his elder brother, receiving Fang Yuan's care, he too had a servant attending to him. But his was not a young maid like Shen Cui — rather, a stout, aging housekeeper.
"If someday Shen Cui could serve me like that... what would that feel like?" Fang Zheng thought to himself, half longing and half not daring to think it.
The favoritism his uncle and aunt showed toward Fang Yuan was something everyone in the household knew well.
In truth, he hadn't even had a servant of his own until Fang Yuan had personally asked for one on his behalf.
Though there was the formal distinction between master and servant, Fang Zheng never dared to look down on Shen Cui in daily life. Her mother was none other than Nanny Shen at his aunt's side — and also the household steward of the entire estate, deeply trusted by his aunt and wielding no small amount of authority.
"All right, that's enough." Fang Yuan impatiently brushed away Shen Cui's soft little hand. His clothes had long since been smoothed out — what Shen Cui was really doing was putting on a show of seduction.
For her, the future looked bright. There was a strong possibility she had Grade A Aptitude, and if she could become Fang Yuan's concubine, she would transform from a servant into a mistress — a single step to the top.
In his previous life, Fang Yuan had been taken in by her and had even come to fancy this maid. But after his rebirth, he saw through her as clearly as gazing into an empty void, his heart cold as frost.
"You may go." Without so much as a glance at Shen Cui, Fang Yuan adjusted his cuffs.
Shen Cui pursed her lips slightly, finding Fang Yuan's lack of appreciation today both strange and aggrieved. She wanted to say something coquettish, but Fang Yuan's inexplicable, faint aura of authority held her in check. She opened her mouth several times before finally murmuring "Yes" and obediently withdrawing.
"Are you ready?" Fang Yuan looked toward Fang Zheng.