Everyone knows you shouldn't take medicine when you're not sick.

  Especially medicine for specific conditions.

  But the Young Master's eyes fixed on me, allowing no refusal. I had no choice.

  I stepped forward, picked up the bowl of medicine, and drank it in one gulp.

  Honestly, the medicine tasted awful. After drinking it, I could feel my stomach churning.

  I suppressed the urge to vomit, set down the empty bowl, and silently became furniture again.

  The Young Master observed me for half a day. Seeing no abnormalities, he ordered another portion brought over—and insisted on personally watching the doctor brew it with the same ingredients.

  From then on, the medicine came in two portions. I drank one bowl first. Only after showing no abnormalities would the Young Master drink his.

  Everyone guessed I was testing the medicine, but no one dared say anything.

  When Ohagi found out, she came to see me during my time off. Her lips trembled for a long while before she could only say, "When you're resting, let's go find a doctor outside to examine you."

  Fortunately, my body showed no discomfort. The doctor's medicine seemed to have no effect on me.

  From another angle, it was the same for the Young Master.

  Not completely ineffective—at least it made the Young Master's breathing smoother. He could sleep more soundly at night.

  This was an unprecedented breakthrough.

  Many doctors had said the Young Master probably wouldn't live past twenty, and his unimproved condition seemed to confirm it.

  But now, the curse was broken.

  The Young Master's mood immediately improved dramatically. He became pleasant to those around him, especially to me.

  He praised me as a loyal servant. He wouldn't forget my merit in testing the medicine. Once he recovered, I'd receive a substantial reward.

  I thought this wasn't bad. Compensation was better than nothing.

  After all, the Young Master didn't stop me from testing medicine. He probably wanted me to drink it with him until he recovered.

  But one month passed. Two months. Three months... Even half a year.

  The Young Master's health showed no further improvement.

  At first he could be patient, convincing himself that treatment took time. But gradually he grew impatient, becoming even more violent than before.

  Now except for me, no one dared be the first to enter the Young Master's quarters after the doctor's examination. Nine times out of ten, he'd order them dragged out and beaten to death.

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  Only after I carefully coaxed him into better spirits and signaled it was safe would everyone dare face the Young Master.

  A year later, the Young Master's condition suddenly deteriorated rapidly, reaching life-threatening levels.

  After being resuscitated by the doctor, the first thing the Young Master did upon opening his eyes was summon the doctor.

  Since the Young Master's health had shown slight improvement, the doctor had moved into the Young Master's courtyard for convenient consultations.

  At his summons, the doctor arrived quickly. Other servants in the room withdrew, leaving only me to attend.

  The Young Master suddenly asked the doctor, "Why did my condition suddenly worsen? Didn't you say you'd cure me?"

  The doctor frowned slightly, as if reflecting on where his treatment had gone wrong. He answered apologetically and gently:

  "This is indeed my fault. Please allow me to examine your body. I will certainly find the cause for you."

  The Young Master's expression changed—utterly cold and harsh. "The cause? You don't even know the cause, yet you dared treat me. You dare mock me!"

  He pulled out a large cleaver from his bedding and viciously hacked at the doctor.

  Blood sprayed like a fountain, spattering the walls in crimson rain.

  I had no time to be shocked that the Young Master had hidden a blade in his bed. I rushed over to shield the injured doctor. "Young Master! Please—"

  The Young Master's eyes were blood-red. The second blow struck me, the heavy force nearly cleaving me in two.

  I couldn't even scream. My flesh and bone convulsed. Blood splattered in clusters, blooming like flowers—as if my soul had already left my body.

  The third blow. The fourth...

  The doctor and I lay piled together, hacked nearly to pieces. By the end, I couldn't feel pain anymore.

  Only the last trace of hazy consciousness wondered: The Young Master was so weak—when did his strength become so great?

  If he'd had this much strength to throw cups at me when I first arrived, I'd have died long ago.

  But I didn't die.

  I don't know how much time passed. When I groggily opened my eyes, I thought I'd arrived in hell. But when I sat up, I only saw the ceiling beams.

  Very familiar. I was actually lying in the Young Master's room.

  Realizing this, I leapt up in fright and rolled into a corner, belatedly remembering what happened before I closed my eyes.

  I should have died. But I touched my face, chest, arms—couldn't find wounds anywhere.

  Had I hallucinated?

  But looking down at myself, I found I'd been changed into a light undershirt—soft, breathable fabric, not what a maid like me should wear.

  Who changed my clothes? Why was I lying here?

  Where had the Young Master, who'd been bedridden, gone?

  Anxious and uneasy, I carefully walked around the room until I reached the tatami mat in front of the bedding and knelt down.

  By the room's candlelight, I could see several tatami mats here were clearly new, different from other areas.

  I lifted the bedding to search and indeed found traces of blackened blood in the crevices.

  The door behind me suddenly opened. My hand trembled. The bedding I'd lifted fell back.

  Though I didn't see who it was, from the presence alone I knew it was the Young Master.

  Facing this murderer who'd once hacked me to death, my teeth chattered with fear. I didn't understand why I'd survived or why the Young Master kept my corpse.

  He walked in slowly, calm and composed, needing no one's support to move on his own.

  The Young Master's illness was cured? The moment this thought flashed through my mind, a hand gripped my face and lifted it.

  The Young Master crouched down, his eyes filled with wild joy and pleasure I couldn't comprehend. "Oh? You really did come back to life."

  His eyes were as vivid as always, but held something different from before.

  As he drew close, I smelled the scent of blood I'd smelled when dying. Not obvious, but I detected it keenly.

  The Young Master had killed someone before returning.

  Would he kill me again?

  The fear on my face showed too clearly. The Young Master sneered, released my face, and sat down unhurriedly.

  "No need to worry. You've passed the test." His tone was pleased and arrogant. "Feel honored, Chihaya. You're the only one qualified to follow me."

  Ah. Though he explained nothing, I understood.

  I'd become some kind of monster.

  During the day, I cautiously requested to go outside. The Young Master, who now shared my quarters, sneered but didn't refuse.

  But the moment I stepped beyond the eaves' shadow, my skin touched by light felt searing pain.

  I quickly retreated into the room and saw my skin blackened and scorched, as if burned by fire.

  As punishment for my complicity, the sun rejected me.