Charlotte Harris bit her lip, engaged in an intense internal struggle. Grace Miller secretly laughed, thinking to himself: What a conservative and old-fashioned little beauty, but I like it!

"I'm behind you... is it not okay for me to hold you?" Charlotte Harris mustered up great courage to ask.

"Fine, but I wonder if our future opponents will be stronger or weaker than this yellow apple."

Charlotte Harris fell silent. Of the "Ten Fingers" of the Wuyi Courtyard, only one had been dealt with; the rest would only be stronger. Not to mention there were real imperial experts protecting the eunuch Shi Dacheng—how could any of them be weak?

Grace Miller saw Charlotte Harris's dilemma and found it quite amusing. He said:

"What are you afraid of? If I avenge my father-in-law, are you still not going to let me hold you or give you a kiss?"

Charlotte Harris lowered her head and whispered:

"That's different."

But she couldn't say exactly how it was different.

Grace Miller shook his head and said:

"Alright, how about this: once we enter the capital, you buy a set of men's clothes, and when it's time for revenge, you cover your face. That way, no one will recognize you. Whether we hug or kiss, no one will laugh at you."

Charlotte Harris thought for a long time before slowly nodding, but she still felt reluctant. Grace Miller's face was full of righteous seriousness, but inside he was laughing at how naive this silly girl was. He continued:

"But from now on, we have to stick together at all times. Otherwise, if we run into a sneak attack from the enemy, it'll be bad."

This time, Charlotte Harris didn't nod. She urged her horse forward.

After traveling more than ten miles, night had fallen. There was no way to reach the capital in time, but they happened to pass through a small town. The two of them entered an inn to rest for the night.

Grace Miller was wearing the Wuyi Courtyard's military uniform. Even without a hat, no one dared suspect he was an impostor. The innkeeper hurried over, bowed, and greeted them:

"Sir, you must be tired. Would you like to stay at the inn?"

Before Grace Miller could answer, Charlotte Harris interjected:

"Two upper rooms."

The innkeeper agreed and was about to call a waiter to lead the guests to the back rooms when Grace Miller waved his hand, glanced around, and lowered his voice mysteriously:

"One room."

Charlotte Harris was about to object, but saw Grace Miller give her a look. She was puzzled—could there be undercover agents in the inn? She glanced around as well. There were four waiters, a few traveling merchants drinking, and an elderly couple sighing over their bundles. None of them looked like martial artists.

The innkeeper didn't dare meddle in the Wuyi Courtyard's business and quickly called a waiter to lead the two distinguished guests to their room. Grace Miller followed, eyes still alertly scanning the surroundings. Charlotte Harris had no choice but to follow behind.

Once inside the room, after sending the waiter away, Grace Miller carefully checked under the bed and behind the cabinet before finally sitting down, still looking very serious.

Charlotte Harris stood at the door and asked in a low voice:

"Did you find anything?"

In fact, Grace Miller hadn't found anything at all—he was just acting. But his expression grew even more grave as he said:

"The imperial agents can't beat me openly, so they must be planning a sneak attack. Too bad I saw through it. Did you notice that elderly couple outside?"

Charlotte Harris nodded.

"They're agents in disguise. They think their act is flawless, but I spotted the flaw."

"What flaw?" Charlotte Harris asked earnestly, already eighty to ninety percent convinced.

"Well," Grace Miller improvised, "those two walk with steady steps, but pretend to be feeble with age. They're overacting."

Charlotte Harris thought back carefully. That elderly couple did seem a bit off. Overthinking things is always dangerous— the more Charlotte Harris thought about it, the more she felt Grace Miller made sense. So she said:

"Good thing you have sharp eyes. I would have been fooled."

Grace Miller chuckled and said:

"Am I a god or something? Anyway, it's getting late. Let's blow out the lamp and go to sleep."

Charlotte Harris's expression changed as she asked:

"How are we sleeping?"

"Of course, lying on the bed."

"You... I won't let you get on the bed."

"But if I don't get on the bed and the enemy suddenly bursts in, I won't be able to fight them off."

Grace Miller put on an innocent face. Charlotte Harris thought for a moment and said:

"Fine."

She then walked to the bed, didn't bother undressing or taking off her shoes, and got right in. Grace Miller was secretly delighted at her sudden boldness, but then saw her carefully roll the quilt into a long tube and place it in the middle. She said:

"I'll sleep on the inside, you on the outside. You can touch... my hand through the quilt, but if you cross the line—"

Charlotte Harris pulled out a gleaming dagger. Grace Miller was startled and said:

"You're going to cut off my hand?"

Suddenly, Ye Ning burst into tears, raised the dagger to her chest, and said:

"I'll stab myself to death."

Grace Miller hurriedly tried to calm her:

"No, no, I promise to be more well-behaved than a mummy." He had been harboring mischievous thoughts, but now he gave up, afraid of angering this little beauty and ruining everything—losing his soon-to-be wife and, most importantly, the inner elixir.

Charlotte Harris was stunned. She didn't know what a "mummy" was, but since it had the word "wood" in it, she figured it must mean the immortals were very well-behaved.

Charlotte Harris lay on the inside of the bed, clutching her dagger. Grace Miller sighed, blew out the oil lamp, lay down on the outside, and didn't even try to hold the beauty's hand. He just stared at the ceiling in silence.