Chapter 86
Chapter 86: A Cat in Heat and Buddhist Scion’s Jealousy
When Tuan Tuan slipped back from the Third Princess’s manor, it looked like it was floating.
It swayed as it walked, paws landing in soft, tipsy little steps, as if the stone ground had turned to clouds.
Those lively amber eyes, usually sharp with mischief, were fogged with moisture now—dreamy and unfocused, the gaze of a drunk who’d forgotten where it left its dignity.
It barreled into the courtyard and immediately locked onto Xiao Man.
“Meow…”
The sound was soft and sticky, threaded with a sweetness that clung to the ear.
It stumbled over and flung itself at her, winding around her calf. Its fluffy head shoved insistently against her arm, and its long tail curled around her wrist. From deep in its throat came a satisfied, rolling purr… purr… like someone finally home.
Xiao Man blinked at the sudden devotion.
She set down her work, bent, and rubbed the furry head out of habit. “What’s wrong with you? You ran wild all day, and now you’re back to butter me up?”
She had no idea that this “cat,” usually leaping and strutting as if the whole world were its playground, had just wandered through the whirlpool of desire in the princess’s residence and drunk its fill of lustful qi—enough to make even gods and buddhas lose their footing.
Now it was absolutely drunk on it.
Tuan Tuan rubbed and rubbed—and then, without warning, went stiff.
Its whole body drew taut.
The next breath—
“Miaow—!”
“Miaow—miaow—!”
The cry shot up sharp and high, twisting with a shameless hook. It was more brazen than any alley tomcat calling for a mate, and it hit the courtyard like a bell that refused to stop ringing.
Everyone’s ears buzzed.
“Hell!”
Xiao Man nearly jumped out of her skin. The winnowing basket flew from her hands.
“What’s wrong with you? Did you eat something bad, or did some bastard poison you?!”
The commotion was too big to ignore.
Doors cracked open.
From the east wing came a long creak, and Old Chen Tou stuck his head out, pipe clenched between his teeth, confusion written all over his face. “Hey now. Winter’s already here and the cat’s still calling for spring?”
At the kitchen doorway, Stone and his mother hurried out to watch. Stone tried to hold back laughter; his shoulders shook anyway.
“Dad, you don’t understand. The cat Eldest Young Master raises—how could it be like the common cats outside? This is talent. Even going into heat happens later than everyone else!”
He grinned and pointed at the center of the yard. “Look, look! It’s still rubbing on Miss Xiao Man. Its butt’s even up! Tsk.”
Xiao Man’s face flared hot. “Brother Stone, stop talking nonsense!”
Right then, the study door slammed open.
Lin Qing Xuan strode out, and that calm, beautiful face had turned so dark it looked ready to bleed ink.
His cold eyes swept the courtyard once, and in a single glance he saw through Tuan Tuan’s condition.
This black cat—born of a heart demon—had inhaled too much filthy lust-qi somewhere. Its spirit was muddled; its restraint was gone; it was spiraling.
Reckless little thing.
“Miss Xiao Man,” he said, voice flat as ice. “Carry it inside.”
“Ah… okay.” Xiao Man bent, about to scoop up the still-wailing cat—
But Tuan Tuan sprang straight into her arms.
It buried its head against her chest with frantic delight, the cry in its throat turning syrupy. Its tail rose proudly and swayed as if showing off.
“Miaow~”
The drawn-out note was so coquettish it might drip.
A vein jumped at Lin Qing Xuan’s temple.
He moved in like lightning and lifted Tuan Tuan by the scruff.
“Myaow!” Tuan Tuan kicked and thrashed in midair, amber eyes blazing with outrage—furious at being interrupted, humiliated at having its “good time” ruined.
It hadn’t even managed to extend its claws when Lin Qing Xuan’s long fingers pressed lightly at the back of its neck.
For an instant, faint golden Sanskrit flickered under his fingertips.
The Buddhist Devil-Suppressing Seal.
“Mew…”
Tuan Tuan wilted on the spot. The yowl jammed in its throat and came out as a weak, breathless whine.
Its body went slack, limbs hanging like a torn sack, and Lin Qing Xuan held it there without a hint of emotion.
Silence fell like a curtain.
Stone’s family stared, stunned.
Old Chen Tou’s pipe nearly dropped from his mouth.
Lin Qing Xuan tossed the limp cat into a bamboo basket in the corner and looked down at it, eyes cold.
“Rub on her again,” he said quietly, “and I’ll throw you into the Devil-Suppressing Tower at the Fa Hua Temple. You can keep the old monsters in there company.”
Tuan Tuan curled into a tight ball and shot him a resentful side-eye. It didn’t dare make a sound; it could only curse him out in its head.
Xiao Man leaned closer, curiosity bright in her eyes. “Lin Qing Xuan, what did you do? You touched it and it went obedient right away. That’s incredible.”
Lin Qing Xuan withdrew his gaze and looked at her as if nothing had happened, his expression returning to stillness.
“A cat’s neck has a special pressure point,” he said evenly. “Press it and they quiet down.”
“Really?” Xiao Man narrowed her eyes. “Then why didn’t you use this earlier? Every time it goes crazy and climbs the roof, you always… just stare at it like your eyes can kill. What good does that do?”
Before she could scold him properly, Lin Qing Xuan lifted his hand.
Without warning, he pressed the same spot at the back of her neck—precise, light, and utterly unhurried.
“Ah!” Xiao Man yelped, the sound trembling.
A strange numbness shot from her neck through her whole body. She froze as if pinned, limbs refusing to answer. Heat surged from her feet to her face; her cheeks reddened so fast it was visible, even the tips of her ears burning.
Lin Qing Xuan lowered his lashes, watching her flustered panic.
His voice dropped, low and dangerous. “People have one too.”
His fingertips brushed from the back of her neck to her hot cheek—feather-light, yet scorching.
Xiao Man glared at him, embarrassed and furious. “You—undo it! Now!”
“This Buddhist Scion… this bastard,” she sputtered, anger and shame tangling together. “You’re getting more and more shameless!”
A faint, almost invisible curve touched Lin Qing Xuan’s eyes.
He brushed her neck again, just as lightly.
The numbness vanished in an instant.
Free again, Xiao Man hopped back two steps as if shocked, clutching her still-burning neck. She pointed at him, too flustered to form a full sentence. “You, you, you…!”
Lin Qing Xuan acted as though nothing had happened. He picked up the bamboo basket with one hand, carrying Tuan Tuan—still playing dead—and turned toward the study.
As he passed her, he paused and glanced sideways.
“Come in. Close the door. I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it.”
His tone was calm, but there was weight in it—an insistence that didn’t invite refusal.
Xiao Man wanted to bite him. She truly did.
But when she looked at the drooping cat in the basket, her anger softened around the edges.
She also wanted to know what Tuan Tuan had done today to become this strange.
After hesitating, she stamped her foot, puffed out her cheeks, and followed him in.
Inside the study, she shut the heavy wooden door with a firm click, sealing the outside world away.