Yin Wuwang stood by the counter. His expression hadn't changed, but his mind was already exploding.
Stupid. So stupid.
He'd lived three thousand years. He'd gathered intelligence on Xie Qingyan's eating habits, sleep schedule, combat style, closed-door cultivation cycles. He even knew Xie Qingyan liked practicing sword in the snow, didn't like going out in rain, preferred light flavors.
But he'd never asked whether Xie Qingyan liked coffee.
Because the cultivation world didn't have coffee.
This world did. And he'd automatically applied the character setting to Xie Qingyan without even confirming.
He himself could drink things worse than that coffee, so he'd assumed Xie Qingyan wouldn't mind either.
That logic was fundamentally flawed—things he didn't care about didn't mean Fuguang wouldn't care either.
Xie Qingyan glanced at him. Probably seeing the layer of self-reproach beneath his expression, his tone softened slightly: "You didn't know. It's not your fault."
Yin Wuwang was silent for a few seconds.
Then he did something that made Xie Qingyan slightly surprised—he walked over and took away the coffee cup in front of Xie Qingyan. The movement was quick, clean and decisive, like removing a wrongly placed formation on a battlefield.
"I'll buy a travel mug today." Yin Wuwang poured the coffee down the sink, back turned to Xie Qingyan. "From now on, I'll bring you tea."
There was no hesitation in his tone. Not "should we switch to tea," not "what would you prefer to drink." It was "from now on, I'll bring you tea"—direct, certain, like issuing a military order.
Xie Qingyan sat at the dining table, watching Yin Wuwang's back.
This person.
Because he'd realized he'd gotten one small thing wrong, he'd immediately decided to change everything starting tomorrow. No excuses, no brushing it off, no "it's all the same anyway." Just direct action.
Xie Qingyan was quiet for a moment.
"Add sugar." He said.
Yin Wuwang turned his head.
Xie Qingyan's expression had returned to its usual calm, but his gaze lingered on Yin Wuwang's face a moment longer than usual—brief, but with something more than before.
"Green tea. With sugar." He repeated, as if confirming this was worth remembering.
Yin Wuwang looked at him.
So Fuguang likes sweet things.
Three thousand years. This was the first time he'd learned this.
Xie Qingyan liked sweets. He always looked expressionless when eating in the cultivation world, showing no preferences. But he liked sweet things.
Yin Wuwang suddenly remembered something—every time he got close to Xie Qingyan, that crisp scent the other carried always had a faint sweetness to it. He'd always assumed it was due to sword cultivator physique, or some lingering fragrance of spirit herbs.
It wasn't.
It was because this person simply liked sweet things. The sweetness had soaked into his bones, carried even in his scent.
"Got it." Yin Wuwang said.
He turned back to wash the coffee cup in the sink, placing it on the drying rack. His movements more careful than necessary, as if making amends for something.
No NPCs present. No need to perform.
But in his heart, Yin Wuwang tallied a debt: owed Fuguang several days' worth of coffee. Starting today, he'd repay it cup by cup with tea.
8:00 AM. The two left the apartment.
The apartment was on the seventh floor, with the elevator at the end of the hallway. Yin Wuwang walked ahead to press the elevator button. While waiting, he unconsciously positioned himself on the right side of the doors—leaving the left for Xie Qingyan.
This wasn't deliberate. It was a habit he'd developed over the past few days. Xie Qingyan preferred standing on the left.
The elevator doors opened. Inside stood a woman in her forties wearing a floral pajama set, holding a bag of garbage.
Yin Wuwang recognized her—the neighbor from 703 next door. They'd run into her once in the hallway before. Little Deer Assistant had reminded him her surname was Wang; she was on the building's residential committee and loved to chat.
"Morning!" Sister Wang greeted them with a smile, gaze sweeping back and forth between Yin Wuwang and Xie Qingyan. "Heading to work together again?"
"Morning." Yin Wuwang nodded.
Performance mode: activated.
He stepped aside to let Xie Qingyan enter the elevator first, then followed, standing beside him. The distance between them was just right—not so close they were stuck together, but noticeably more intimate than ordinary colleagues.
The appropriate distance for a couple who'd been together two years.
Little Deer Assistant whispered in his mind: "OOC reminder: She's a neighbor who's known you for two years. Be natural—not too polite, not too distant."
The elevator began descending.
Sister Wang was the type of person with a natural chatting function built in. She glanced at the briefcase in Yin Wuwang's hand, then at the folder in Xie Qingyan's.
"Busy again lately?" she said, her tone carrying an elder's concern. "Last time I saw you two coming home late several nights in a row. Xiao Shen's complexion didn't look good—is he staying up late again?"
Yin Wuwang instinctively glanced at Xie Qingyan.
Indeed. There was blue under Xie Qingyan's eyes. A mortal body couldn't hide fatigue.
"The case is pressing." Yin Wuwang said. "Almost wrapped up."
"Ah, your line of work is really tough." Sister Wang sighed, then smiled. "But you really do treat Xiao Shen well. Last time I saw you coming back with a huge bag of groceries, I thought you'd switched careers to be a househusband."
Yin Wuwang's mouth twitched slightly.
Househusband.
Three-thousand-year-old Demon Sovereign. Househusband.
He mentally rearranged these words in various combinations and decided not to take offense.
"He's not very good at taking care of himself." Yin Wuwang said. The words came out faster than he'd expected—fast enough that he startled himself.
This wasn't a performance line. It was the truth.
Xie Qingyan really wasn't good at taking care of himself. It had been like this in the cultivation world too. Sword cultivators could go seven days and nights without eating or drinking during closed-door cultivation, emerging with ashen complexion. Yin Wuwang, from a hundred and eighty thousand li away, would be so angry he wanted to rush over and force-feed him a meal.
Xie Qingyan stood beside him and didn't refute when he heard this.
He just turned his head slightly to glance at Yin Wuwang—brief, expression mild, but Yin Wuwang caught what was in that glance.
Not displeasure. Not indifference.
A kind of "you're right but I don't want to admit it" silence.
The elevator reached the ground floor. The doors opened.
The three walked out of the lobby together. Sister Wang went to throw out her garbage; Yin Wuwang and Xie Qingyan headed toward the parking lot.
After a few steps, Sister Wang suddenly called out from behind: "Oh, Xiao Jiang!"
Yin Wuwang turned back.
"I brought in that package outside your door for you—left it on the mat beside your door."
"Thanks, Sister Wang."
"No problem!" Sister Wang waved. "By the way, are you two coming to the community barbecue next time? Bring Xiao Shen!"
Yin Wuwang reflexively answered: "Sure, depends on whether he's free then."
After saying it, he didn't even realize—he'd answered for Xie Qingyan.
Just like a real partner would.
[End of V2_Chapter 30]
Next: A travel mug, a convenience store alibi, and a question that makes the Demon Sovereign's heart skip a beat.