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Chapter 45 is out on patreon
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"Mmn... Where is this? Water... water..." Xuan murmured weakly in a daze, struggling to open his heavy eyelids.
"Ah! Lord Xuan, you're awake! Wait, let me get you some water."
Vaguely, Xuan heard a nervous voice beside him. It had a crisp quality to it—very pleasant to the ear.
A moment later, he felt someone gently lift him up from behind, letting him rest against a small, soft embrace. A faint scent of cherry blossoms drifted into his nose, instantly relaxing his mind.
A cup of clear water was brought to his lips. Xuan didn't care who was serving him; he gulped it down greedily. After draining the cup in two large swallows, his throat finally felt a little less raw.
"My Lord, I'll pour you another cup."
Xuan felt himself being gently laid back down. The person scurried away with quick steps, returning shortly with another cup. This repeated three times before she finally stopped.
Lying back down, he carefully assessed his body's condition. The stab wound near his heart had been bandaged, and all the other wounds, large and small, had been treated. Some of the minor cuts had already scabbed over, indicating that Medical Ninjutsu had been used on him.
In the final moments of his deathmatch with the Hyuga Jōnin, Xuan had chosen a scorched-earth tactic. Just a split second before the enemy's blade struck, he had forcibly shifted his body to move his heart out of the path, causing the stab to miss the vital organ. Only then did he manage to finish the opponent off with the Rasengan. If he had hesitated for even a fraction of a second, or made the slightest error, he probably never would have woken up.
While he was in a daze, a pair of cool, small hands pressed against his temples, massaging them gently. He could tell the owner of the hands was being incredibly careful, afraid of waking him.
After a short while, Xuan slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a petite face with delicate features. She had long, silky hair that carried that faint scent of cherry blossoms. She looked young—about the same age as him—and was dressed in a pink kimono, giving off a very comforting vibe.
"Who are you?" Xuan asked in confusion. As soon as he spoke, the hoarseness of his own voice startled him.
Seeing Xuan wake up, a look of surprise and joy flashed in the girl's eyes. She quickly adjusted his head on the pillow, then scrambled to the side and knelt in a formal seiza posture. "Lord Xuan, my name is Senya Hotaru. I am a maid sent by the Clan Head."
"A maid?" Xuan turned his head to examine her closely. He stared quite intently until a blush rose on her cheeks and she quietly lowered her head. Only then did he withdraw his gaze.
"Not bad. You can stay with me from now on. Has my Uncle returned?" Xuan asked softly. Although she was young, he could tell she was going to grow up into a beauty. Having a pretty maid to serve him wasn't something most people would refuse.
A look of joy appeared on Senya Hotaru's face, and she quickly replied, "Yes, the Clan Head returned yesterday."
Xuan nodded slightly and continued, "How long have I been unconscious?"
"Counting today, Lord Xuan has been unconscious for three days."
"What about Madara? How is he?"
"Young Master Madara's injuries were slightly lighter than yours, Lord Xuan. He is recovering in his own room and is no longer in critical condition."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Xuan's mouth. He keenly noticed that Hotaru referred to Madara as "Young Master," but addressed him as "Lord." This implied that in her heart, his status was higher than Madara's.
"Since Uncle is back, what is the situation on the battlefield?" Xuan thought for a moment and asked.
"This servant does not know. Matters regarding the battlefield are not something a maid like me would be informed of."
Xuan nodded. He asked her a few more questions, but she knew very little about anything involving the clan's ninjas.
Xuan could pretty much guess why his uncle had suddenly assigned him a little maid.
News of him awakening the Three-Tomoe Sharingan and holding his own against a Jōnin must have reached the Clan Head's ears. Assigning him a personal maid was a form of recognition—an acknowledgment of both his strength and his elevated status.
Subconsciously, it meant that in his uncle's eyes, he was no longer just a child of the next generation who needed protection. He was now viewed as a full-fledged Uchiha ninja capable of standing on his own.
There might be another implication as well: once his injuries healed, he would likely be expected to start taking missions as a proper ninja. Of course, there was a possibility of being sent to the battlefield, but Xuan estimated the chances were slim. He was still too young, and the frontlines were too chaotic. Given the level of genius he had displayed, unless his uncle had completely lost his mind or the Uchiha clan was facing an existential crisis, they wouldn't risk sending him to such a meat grinder just yet.
Having thought this through, Xuan began to ask his little maid some personal questions.
"Little Hotaru, how old are you?"
"Six years old."
"Huh. You're actually a year older than me. You don't look it. Where are your parents?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen them since I was born. As far back as I can remember, I lived among a group of refugees, worrying about food every single day. Later, when I was three, I caught a high fever and fell into a coma. They abandoned me. Fortunately, I was picked up by the clan's ninjas. I've lived in the compound ever since, being trained as a maid."
Senya Hotaru spoke very plainly. Her tone carried no fluctuations, as if she were talking about someone else entirely.
Xuan frowned, wanting to say something, but ultimately held his tongue.
This was the Warring States period; such tragedies were commonplace. Cruel bandits roamed everywhere, great nations waged constant wars against one another, and ninja clans were a chaotic mess. Who knew how many people starved to death every single day? The phrase "thousands of miles of barren earth" was not just a figure of speech. For Hotaru to be picked up by the Uchiha clan, she was actually incredibly lucky.
In fact, the Uchiha clan housed many people like her, both men and women. The men were put to work tilling the land and growing crops to support the clan—after all, you couldn't expect a bunch of killers to act as farmers.
The women engaged in lighter work, like weaving cloth. Some of the prettier ones might catch the eye of a ninja and be taken as a wife. Since the Uchiha Kekkei Genkai was dominant, as long as the father was an Uchiha, the next generation could inherit the bloodline. There were no strict requirements for the mother, though whether the child could actually awaken the Sharingan was another matter entirely.
"Little Hotaru, come massage my head."
"Yes!" Hotaru stood up quickly. She gently lifted Xuan's head and placed it on her lap, her small hands softly massaging his scalp.
"Hotaru, you said you didn't know who your parents were. So why is your surname Senya?" Xuan asked casually, his eyes closed.
Hotaru's hands paused for a fraction of a second before she replied nonchalantly, "Senya was the surname of the person who adopted me back then. Since I didn't have parents, I naturally followed his surname."
"And where is he now?"
"When I had that high fever at three years old, he was the first one to throw me away."
Although Hotaru's tone remained calm, Xuan clearly felt her grip tighten just a fraction. He chuckled softly. "Is that so? Then how about you take my surname, Uchiha?"
Hotaru's hands froze. She forced a smile and said, "Lord Xuan, you must be joking."
Xuan opened his eyes and looked straight into hers. "I am serious."
Hotaru stopped speaking, falling into a quiet silence. However, Xuan could clearly feel her hands become much lighter and gentler, making the massage exceptionally comfortable.