Journey to the West: Starting by taking Sun Wukong as my disciple!-Chapter 145: Return to Weaver Girl Palace

Taiyin Star Lord rolled her eyes.

"Palace Master, do you know what Chaos Residence is?" Chang’e suddenly recalled the discussion of the Three Xiao Goddesses and asked.

Chaos Residence?

Upon hearing this, Taiyin Star Lord carefully pondered in her mind. Although she seldom left her abode, she still had some understanding of the various forces within the Three Realms.

But...

Her eyebrows furrowed tightly; she had never heard of such a place.

"Where is it?" Taiyin Star Lord didn’t speak aloud; her voice directly arose in Chang’e’s ear.

Chang’e shook her head and said, "I don’t know, but according to the Three Xiao Goddesses, hot pot seems to be a dish made by Chaos Residence."

The Three Xiaos?

Taiyin Star Lord nodded but didn’t say much.

Someone who makes dishes.

No wonder she didn’t know; it turned out to be a restaurant. She had thought it was something else.

However... Chaos Residence...

A hint of fascination appeared on the stunning, unflappable countenance of Taiyin Star Lord. Mortals actually knew about Chaos; this name was intriguing.

Outside Weaver Girl Palace, a youngster sneaked in surreptitiously, unable to hide his delicate and refined features beneath his shifty demeanor.

Nezha made his way to the inner hall of Weaver Girl Palace with practiced ease.

However, for some reason, the closer he got, the more anxious he became. Clutching his uneasy heart, Nezha arrived at the door to the inner hall.

He had always worried that Weaver Girl would discover he had taken a skirt, but now that he was here, he couldn’t just turn around and leave.

He took a deep breath to calm himself and psych himself up.

Nezha bowed his head, straightened his clothes, and refused to show any weakness before Weaver Girl.

Otherwise, wouldn’t that be a confession?

He slapped his hands on his face and assumed an arrogant expression; he, Prince Nezha, had to stand tall and proud.

Bang!

He kicked open the door and strode in grandly, sidling in like a crab.

The Weaver Girl, who was weaving, was startled by the noise and looked up.

Surprise flickered in her eyes before she narrowed them into a soft gaze, smirking at Nezha with a playful smile in her eyes.

This attitude of Weaver Girl provoked Nezha.

Frowning, Nezha glared and demanded, "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," replied Weaver Girl, still smiling.

"Is the banquet over? What brings Prince Nezha to visit me again?"

"I’m here to collect my new clothes!" Nezha declared with arrogance.

This had been agreed upon previously, so there was nothing to question.

Weaver Girl pondered the information, then nodded thoughtfully, "I see."

She stopped her work and stood up. Approaching Nezha, she leaned forward to look at his haughty yet refined face and teased with a smile, "I thought, Prince Nezha, you were here to return my skirt."

Skirt!!!

Upon hearing these two words, Nezha’s whole body jolted in shock.

Fear flashed in his eyes.

Had he been discovered?! This was his unshakable nightmare!

Instinctively, Nezha stepped back, a forced expression on his face.

"What skirt are you talking about?"

He attempted to struggle one last time.

"Oh?" Weaver Girl’s forefinger gently touched her lower lip, her smile charming.

"Isn’t it Prince Nezha who stole my skirt and secretly wore it?" she said, her tone pleasant and teasing with implications.

Nezha’s clear face turned beet red, like a ripe peach.

He jumped three feet in the air,

"Nonsense!" Nezha blurted out in a rush. "I didn’t steal any skirt!"

No sooner had Nezha’s words fallen than Weaver Girl’s smile grew wider, with a sly look in her eyes.

Caught in the trap!

Her ruby lips parted slightly, "So, Third Prince, are you saying that you merely stole the skirt, or that you wore it openly and aboveboard?"

The indignant expression on Nezha’s face abruptly turned to astonishment as he realized the folly of his own words.

Damn!

Wasn’t this a confession?!

"I didn’t steal it, I really didn’t!"

"There are so many skirts; it’s normal for one to go missing. You must have miscounted and made one less," Nezha argued with a red face and a thick neck.

But the Weaver Girl, with her clever mind and skillful hands, was not someone to be fooled by Nezha’s pale excuses.

"The missing piece is accounted for. We hastened to make it for the harem, and the only visitor that day was none other than the Third Prince himself."

The Weaver Girl spoke softly, cornering Nezha into a dead end.

With a sheepish smile, Nezha backed up a few steps, almost reaching the door of the hall.

With a flick of her finger, the Weaver Girl closed the grand doors, cutting off any thoughts Nezha had of escaping.

Gradually, Nezha’s tone changed.

"How can my affairs be called stealing!"

"This is called safekeeping on behalf!"

Seeing that he couldn’t fool her, Nezha had no choice but to confess. He took out the skirt and, in a huff, stuffed it into the Weaver Girl’s hands.

He wanted to defend his actions further, but the inexplicable smile on the Weaver Girl’s face only made him feel more uneasy.

Finally, turning his head away and blushing, he resolved to throw caution to the wind.

"The young master stole it, so what? Go ahead and tattle to my father."

Nezha stood his ground as if ready to face death, but the way he couldn’t help but sneak glances at the Weaver Girl betrayed his true feelings.

The Weaver Girl couldn’t hold back a chuckle, choosing not to engage with Nezha’s defensive retort.

Picking up the skirt that Nezha had returned, she spread it out and inspected it carefully, then laughed, "Third Prince, this one you’ve given back to me doesn’t seem to be the original."

And with her bare finger, she pointed at the stitching.

"You couldn’t possibly have worn it, could you? Are you sure you want me to share this matter with Heavenly King Li?"

Perspiration dotted Nezha’s forehead. Letting Li Jing know would be a minor issue; at worst, he’d spend a few days confined in the Exquisite Tower.

But if this became known throughout the Three Realms, he might as well hang himself with his Huntian Ling.

Nezha’s heart thumped wildly.

"Alright, alright, I won’t tease you anymore," the Weaver Girl said gently, tossing the skirt back into Nezha’s arms.

"You don’t want it anymore?" Nezha asked, somewhat taken aback.

The Weaver Girl rolled her eyes and spoke, "If I waited for you, the Third Prince, to return them, the day lily would be cold. Those skirts were all made in a rush."

"Sorry, huh." Nezha spoke dejectedly.

At the time, he’d acted on an impulse and had inexplicably taken them.

The Weaver Girl shook her head, her eyes narrowing as she said, "No big deal, come, look at this."

With a gesture, an exquisite box appeared before Nezha.

"What is this?" Nezha was somewhat puzzled.

"Your custom-made clothes, open it and see," the Weaver Girl said softly.

Nezha hesitated, harboring an ominous premonition, but he complied nonetheless.

Upon opening it, Nezha was completely flabbergasted.

The box did not contain the dashing clothes he had imagined but a small skirt, exquisitely made and beautifully patterned.

"How do you like it?" the Weaver Girl asked with a teasing smile.

Nezha bristled instantly.

"Young master asked for imposing clothes, what are you implying by giving me a skirt?"

Nezha pointed and flailed, visibly agitated, unsure whether he was angry or delighted.

"I think you’d look better in a skirt," the Weaver Girl blinked, her tone somewhat innocent yet convincingly earnest.

"And..." she appraised Nezha’s delicate stature and fair features from top to bottom, her voice taking a suggestive turn.

"You seem quite fond of wearing them, otherwise you wouldn’t have stolen the skirts."

The Weaver Girl’s words stuck in Nezha’s throat, uncomfortably caught between being voiced or swallowed.

Before Nezha could utter a word, the Weaver Girl’s voice struck again like a heavy hammer.