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ArabicA Rich Second-generation Villain Can’t Just Enjoy Life — Chapter 468
Chapter 468: The Maid in the Fox Costume is My Senior Sister?!
Since he sought excitement, he would see it through to the end.
Shen Anyu, with his audacious daring, directly brought Ye Liyou into No. 1 Villa of Jiangjing Manor, found a quiet guest room, placed her in the bedroom, covered her with a plush blanket, smiled, kissed her cheek, and then left.
As soon as the door clicked shut, the silence of the room fell. Ye Liyou’s phoenix eyes, which had been squeezed shut in a feigned slumber, slowly fluttered open. The lingering warmth of his lips lingered on her cheek, a ghost of a touch that sent a pleasant shiver through her body. Her gaze, usually sharp and assessing, now softened, flickering with uncertainty.
“Is this… Senior’s home?” she whispered, the words barely a breath in the opulent stillness.
She pushed herself up, the plush blanket sliding from her shoulders like liquid silk. The scent of the room was clean and masculine, a subtle mix of sandalwood and old books that she instantly associated with him. It was a scent that made her feel safe, yet simultaneously made her heart race. Ye Liyou rose from the bed and padded silently across the thick wool carpet to the floor-to-ceiling window.
Her breath hitched.
Beyond the glass stretched a garden so vibrant it almost seemed unreal. Vast, manicured lawns were punctuated by enormous patches of blooming roses, their petals a riot of crimson, pink, and white under the gentle afternoon sun. It wasn’t just a garden; it was a masterpiece, a breathtaking sea of her favorite flower.
A warmth spread through her chest, so potent and sweet it almost made her dizzy. ‘*Senior is so thoughtful.*’
The gesture was more intimate than any gift of gold or jewels. He knew her. He knew she was the Blood Shadow Rose, a name whispered in fear across the underworld. The moniker wasn’t just a flight of fancy. It was born from the two defining aspects of her life: the brutal, bloody art of her kills, which often left a crimson bloom on her targets, and her deep, personal love for the very flower that now filled her vision. He had seen past the assassin and acknowledged the woman.
Ye Liyou wasn’t surprised by the understated luxury of the manor. For the Young Master of the Yanxia Shen Family, a lineage whispered to be as old as the nation itself, such wealth was a given. It was expected. But she found, to her own surprise, that she didn’t care. It mattered little to her if Shen Anyu was the heir to an empire or a pauper with nothing to his name; she would have followed him just the same.
In fact, a small, selfish part of her wished he *were* poorer. She fantasized about a life where she could be the one to provide for him, to use her formidable skills to shield him from the world, to be his strength.
Instead, the reality of his background—a thousand-year-old aristocratic family—settled a heavy pressure on her shoulders. The confidence she wielded like a blade in her professional life felt fragile here. A gnawing worry began to coil in her stomach. Was she good enough for him? Would a family as esteemed as the Shen Family ever accept a woman whose hands were stained with blood? An assassin for a daughter-in-law? The thought was almost laughable.
In truth, her fears were unfounded. To have reached the world of a Martial Grandmaster at the tender age of twenty-four was a feat of prodigious talent. Her potential was nearly limitless. Any super-aristocratic family would have fallen over themselves to welcome such a prodigy into their fold, seeing not an assassin, but an asset of unparalleled value. A Grandmaster so young had a very real chance of breaking through to the legendary Heavenly Human realm, becoming a guardian deity of the family for centuries. Who would refuse a daughter-in-law with such impeccable genes, a future matriarch capable of holding up half the sky?
If An Zhiyi, Shen Anyu’s mother, knew her son had managed to charm yet another Grandmaster-level beauty into his life, she would likely be ecstatic.
But Ye Liyou didn’t know this. Her world had always been one of shadows and steel, not high society and ancient lineages. She valued Shen Anyu so intensely that a sense of gain and loss warred within her, a constant, low-level hum of anxiety. For her, killing was simple. It was a clean equation of cause and effect. A flick of the wrist, a whisper of a blade, and the problem was solved. *Killing one person in ten steps, traveling a thousand li without leaving a trace.* That was her art, her comfort zone.
Matters of the heart, however, were an indecipherable chaos.
“He has a girlfriend, though,” she murmured to the roses outside, her voice tinged with a resentment she couldn’t suppress. “Is he going to see her now?”
The thought was a shard of ice in her heart. A sour, acidic jealousy churned in her gut. No woman could be indifferent to such a thing. She had already resigned herself to a difficult path, decided that she would be with Shen Anyu no matter what obstacles lay ahead. Even if he had other women, she wouldn’t—couldn’t—give up. As long as she held a place in his heart, she would fight for it.
And yet, the image of the man who had been so impossibly sweet and attentive to her just moments ago, now going to share that same sweetness with another, was pure torture. It made her feel physically ill.
A dangerous glint entered her eyes.
“I’ll just take a peek,” she decided, her red lips pursing into a determined line. “I need to see what his girlfriend looks like. Is she prettier than me?”
Vanity, she knew, but it was also a warrior’s assessment of the competition. Ye Liyou was supremely confident in her own appearance. From her face to her figure, she knew she was a weapon of seduction in her own right. Shen Anyu’s undisguised infatuation over the past few days had been proof enough of her power. She had to see the woman who had captured him first.
No matter who she was, Ye Liyou would win. She would snatch him away.
“Senior is mine,” she declared to her reflection in the window, her voice a low, possessive growl. “He belongs to Ye Liyou!”
Her body blurred. In an instant, she transformed from a lovesick girl into the ghost she was trained to be. She moved like a phantom, silent and unseen, her senses sharpened to a razor’s edge. She followed the lingering trace of his scent, his energy, through the opulent halls.
To avoid alerting him—a man whose senses were frighteningly acute—Ye Liyou maintained a significant distance, melting into the shadows and hidden corners with practiced ease.
She watched as he entered a room on the far side of the villa. Her mind raced. Instead of a frontal approach, she slipped outside, her form a barely perceptible flicker in the periphery. The outer wall of the villa presented no obstacle. Her fingers and toes found invisible purchase, and she scaled it with the grace of a spider, landing without a sound on the thick branch of an ancient tree that overlooked the corresponding window.
Concealed by a dense curtain of green leaves, Ye Liyou narrowed her focus. Her phoenix eyes sharpened, predatory.
Her breath caught.
Through the window, she saw a woman. She was dressed in a daring fox maid outfit, complete with a fluffy tail and ears. Her head was bowed in deference as she knelt on the floor, expertly removing Shen Anyu’s shoes. Her every movement was a study in practiced servitude, polished and professional.
After changing his shoes, she rose and began to help him out of his jacket.
‘*So, it’s just a maid…*’
A wave of immense relief washed over Ye Liyou. The iron band of tension around her chest loosened. It was a common, if lavish, practice among the old aristocratic families. Young Masters often had personal maids who attended to their every need, women who were more than servants, akin to the historical role of Xiren to Jia Baoyu.
[Akarin’s Note: Xiren and Jia Baoyu are major characters from the classic Chinese novel *Dream of the Red Chamber*. Xiren was Jia Baoyu’s chief personal maid, with whom he shared an intimate, borderline romantic relationship.]
A mere maid. Ye Liyou could live with that. Her bottom line, once an unyielding fortress, had been worn down repeatedly by her feelings for Shen Anyu. Now, all she asked was to be the most important woman in his life. The existence of a servant girl wouldn’t threaten her position.
“Senior really knows how to enjoy himself,” she muttered, though the sour taste of jealousy was already returning. Her gaze locked onto the maid’s figure. “And this maid… her body is incredible.”
Even from the back, the view was stunning. The maid’s figure was graceful and lithe, her waist impossibly slender before flaring out into perfectly curved hips. The short skirt of the costume did little to hide the long, elegant lines of her legs. She was a picture of temptation.
Even Ye Liyou, as a woman, felt a wave of appreciation. How could any man possibly resist?
‘*Let’s see her face.*’ she thought, leaning forward, her eyes glued to the scene.
As if on cue, the maid turned around to put away Shen Anyu’s coat, revealing a charming and exquisitely delicate face.
The world stopped.
The air in Ye Liyou’s lungs turned to ice. The branch beneath her swayed as her body went rigid.
What was she seeing?
“Second… Second Senior Sister?!”
The whisper was a strangled gasp. She nearly lost her balance and tumbled from the tree. Her mouth fell open, her mind reeling in utter, stupefied disbelief. She stared, wide-eyed, at that face—a face she knew as well as her own. It was, without a shadow of a doubt, her Second Senior Sister, Liu Ruyan!
How? How could this be?
This… this… this was impossible!
Second Senior Sister Liu Ruyan—*her* Second Senior Sister—was wearing that shamefully revealing fox costume and serving Shen Anyu like a common maid?
The Liu Ruyan she knew was alluring and charming on the surface, but underneath, she was fiercely conservative, almost puritanical. She harbored a deep-seated repulsion towards men, a fact known throughout their organization. The idea of her being this intimate, this *subservient*, to any man was fundamentally wrong. It broke the laws of Ye Liyou’s universe.
‘*Did I see wrong?*’
She blinked hard, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as if to clear a hallucination. She looked again. And again. No matter how many times she looked, the face remained the same. It was Liu Ruyan. There was no mistaking it.
But… how was this possible?
Her brain short-circuited. The world dissolved into a roaring white noise. Her own Second Senior Sister was her lover’s personal maid?
The next scene shattered what little remained of her composure. Ye Liyou’s pupils constricted into pinpricks as a tidal wave of shock and horror crashed over her.
Second Senior Sister Liu Ruyan’s service did not end with changing shoes and taking his coat. She knelt before him once more, her movements fluid and deliberate, and began to perform… other services.
It was a service Ye Liyou had become intimately, achingly familiar with over the past few days.
Her Second Senior Sister… had *this* kind of relationship with Senior?
Ye Liyou’s emotions became a tangled, chaotic knot. Shock warred with a piercing sense of betrayal. Confusion wrestled with a strange, unwelcome flicker of arousal. It was a dizzying, sickening cocktail of feelings that threatened to overwhelm her.
After a few moments that stretched into an eternity, she couldn’t watch anymore. It was too much. A profound sadness, a deep and aching distress for her senior sister and for herself, settled in her chest like a stone. She quietly, clumsily, retreated from the tree, her movements wooden and uncoordinated.
From inside the room, Shen Anyu’s peripheral vision caught the faint flicker of movement at the window. A slow, knowing smile touched the corners of his lips, invisible to the woman before him. He reached down and patted Liu Ruyan’s head, a silent command for her to be good.
Back in the guest room, Ye Liyou paced like a caged animal. She felt agitated, restless, her mind a storm of conflicting thoughts. She stared out at the serene garden, but all she could see was the image of Liu Ruyan and Shen Anyu burned into the backs of her eyelids. What were they doing now? The question was poison, and with it came a powerful wave of jealousy that was so intense it almost choked her.
“No. No, Ye Liyou, you can’t be angry,” she coached herself, forcing deep, shuddering breaths into her lungs. “Calm down. Calm down.”
“Since things have come to this, let’s cultivate.”
Ye Liyou took a deep breath, sat cross-legged, and placed the Sky Sword Nineteen Styles manual in front of her.
Looking at the Sky Sword Nineteen Styles manual, Ye Liyou’s mood finally improved a lot:
‘*Senior even gave me a divine skill manual like the Sky Sword Nineteen Styles without hesitation. Senior loves me. It’s just a maid; even if it’s Second Senior Sister, it’s no big deal.*’
‘*Cultivate, cultivate.*’