Inside the bath chamber, Liu Erlong leaned quietly against the warm jade pool wall. The heated water enveloped her skin, while the crisp, slightly bitter fragrance of Snow Spirit Orchid seeped through the rising steam, gradually easing the tension that had coiled in her spirit for days.
Yet in her heart…
A faint, inexplicable doubt stirred.
'That guy… Dai Chengfeng… actually just left like that?'
She opened her eyes. Her phoenix-like gaze, misty with humidity, drifted toward the sandalwood screen.
Painted with distant mountains and hazy rain, the screen offered only a blurred view of the brighter outer room—no sign of him.
This was utterly unlike his usual behavior.
Had he finally learned restraint? Or was he plotting something even more devious?
Liu Erlong let out a soft huff and splashed water onto her face.
"Enough. I'm here now—I might as well relax… Whatever he's planning, let him."
She stopped fretting, closed her eyes again, and let her body sink fully into the warm water.
Her long black hair fanned out like seaweed atop the milky-white surface, accentuating the jade-like fairness of her shoulders and neck—still marked with faint, intimate red traces, glistening vividly under the water's sheen.
Just as drowsiness began to claim her, footsteps sounded beyond the screen.
Measured, unhurried—unmistakably Dai Chengfeng's.
Liu Erlong's lashes fluttered—but she kept her eyes shut, pretending ignorance.
The steps halted at the screen's edge. Then, his familiar figure stepped through.
Peeking through half-lidded eyes, Liu Erlong saw he carried a wooden tray—on it rested several items.
"Why are you back already?"
She spoke lazily, her voice softened by the bath. "Didn't you say to let me soak in peace?"
Dai Chengfeng set the tray on the low table beside the pool. At her words, he arched a brow, smiling. "I was worried you'd be bored alone. Thought I'd keep you company."
Only then did Liu Erlong fully open her eyes—her gaze fixed on the tray.
When she saw what lay upon it, she froze in surprise.
Several sheets of plain white paper, weighted down by a slender, dark object resembling stone or wood. Beside it sat a small knife and a smooth, thin wooden board.
"What is this…?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly—she couldn't fathom his intent.
Dai Chengfeng settled cross-legged on the floor beside the pool, posture relaxed.
He picked up the dark object and the knife, bowing his head to carve with focused precision.
Fine black shavings fell away, revealing a denser, deeper-black core within.
"Charcoal stick," he explained, hands still moving. "Made from baked willow wood core. For drawing."
"Drawing?" Liu Erlong grew even more puzzled.
She pushed herself upright slightly—the water rippling around her. "What are you going to draw?"
By now, Dai Chengfeng had finished shaping the charcoal, its tip honed to the perfect thickness.
He looked up, golden hair spilling over his shoulders. Morning light filtered through the humid air, outlining his sharp, handsome profile.
He smiled at her—a familiar, eager glint dancing in his eyes.
"You."
Liu Erlong stared, stunned.
After a long pause, she found her voice—disbelieving. "Draw me?"
"Mm."
Dai Chengfeng placed a sheet of paper on the wooden board, adjusted his posture, and began studying her with an artist's eye. "I'll draw you as you are now—bathing beauty, crabapple in spring slumber. Such a scene would be a shame not to capture."
Liu Erlong flushed under his intense gaze and instinctively sank lower into the water, leaving only her shoulders and above exposed.
A floating orchid petal drifted near, conveniently shielding part of her.
She shot him a glare. "Dai Chengfeng, have you lost your mind? Since when do you know how to draw?"
She was genuinely baffled.
Everyone knew the Fourth Prince of Star Luo was a prodigy—peerless in battle, unmatched in talent.
She'd tasted his cooking before—surprising, yes, but she'd reasoned he must've learned it during his years abroad, for survival.
His massage skills? She'd attributed those to his deep understanding of the body and exquisite soul power control.
But drawing?
In the world of Douluo Continent, soul masters pursued strength,魂 rings (soul rings), combat, and breakthroughs.
Art was a pastime for powerless nobles or a trade for court painters—not something a prince, a contender for the Star Luo throne, would waste time mastering.
Where would he have even found the opportunity to learn?
Seeing her disbelief, Dai Chengfeng didn't rush. He tested the charcoal with a few casual strokes along the paper's edge, checking its tone and texture.
"Don't believe I can draw?" he asked slowly.
"Not in a million years," Liu Erlong scoffed, sweeping her wet hair behind her shoulder—a motion that fully revealed her long neck and delicate collarbone.
"Dai Chengfeng, if you're going to tease me, at least come up with a better excuse."
"You're the Fourth Prince of Star Luo—not some court painter. When did you ever have time to learn this?"
"What if I truly can?"
Dai Chengfeng's eyes burned into hers, the charcoal spinning deftly between his fingers.
Liu Erlong held his gaze. His expression seemed sincere—deepening her confusion. But pride wouldn't let her yield.
"If you really can," she challenged, "then I'll…"
"And if I do?" Dai Chengfeng leaned forward slightly, amusement brightening his eyes. "Erlong, how about a wager?"
"A wager? On what?"
"That I can capture seven-tenths of your essence on paper—in one incense stick's time—with nothing but this charcoal."
He spoke calmly. "If I succeed, I win."
"If I fail—or if it doesn't resemble you—it's my loss."
Liu Erlong narrowed her eyes.
One incense stick. With that crude black stick. To draw a person—and capture their very spirit?
She might not understand art, but she knew portraiture wasn't easy. Even skilled painters needed hours of observation, sketching, and revision.
Where did he get such confidence?
"What's the stake?" she asked, already calculating.
This bet clearly favored her.
If he lost, she could make him promise something—like leaving her in peace for a few days.
And if he won? Impossible.
Dai Chengfeng seemed to read her thoughts. A knowing smile curved his lips. "If I win, you owe me a favor."
"The same applies if you win. Fair?"
"What kind of favor?" Liu Erlong asked warily.
"I haven't decided yet—but it will be something well within your ability, and nothing against your principles."
Liu Erlong fell silent, mind racing.
On the surface, the terms seemed fair—but she was almost certain to win.
Dai Chengfeng knowing how to draw? That was as absurd as claiming she knew embroidery.
Was he bluffing? Trying to trick her into closeness?
Yet his tools looked authentic.
Besides… she glanced at the charcoal and paper.
Even if he had some basic skill, capturing her "essence" in one incense stick with such primitive tools? Ridiculous.
"Fine."
Liu Erlong finally agreed, a sly, playful curve lifting her crimson lips. "I'll take that bet."
"Dai Chengfeng—you won't regret this?"
"Never," he replied, his smile deepening.
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