Chu Jiang turned and gathered Wu Yue's cold, trembling body into his arms.
His movement was a little rough. Wu Yue let out a soft moan, her whole body nearly hanging from him. Their soaked clothes clung tightly to them; scorching heat met icy cold, sending up a faint mist.
Chu Jiang felt every inch of her curves and her uncontrollable shivers. Her face was buried in the hollow of his neck, her breaths rapid and shallow. Her arms circled his waist, her fingers clutching tightly at the fabric on his back.
After several breaths, the violent power unexpectedly found a point of balance. Threads of Pure Yang Power flowed into her body, while Mystic Yin Qi was drawn over as well.
One cold, one hot, formed a tiny cycle. The pressure that had threatened to burst their bodies plummeted.
Information on the Pure Yang Mystic Yin Communion Art appeared in Chu Jiang's mind. He said to the person in his arms, "Circulate the cultivation art."
Wu Yue said nothing, but Chu Jiang felt her begin to circulate the art awkwardly.
Chu Jiang immediately guided the Pure Yang Power to follow.
As the art began to operate, both of them let out muffled groans.
Icy and scorching power wound through their meridians, bringing tremors where stabbing pain and soothing comfort intertwined.
Even more shocking, a thread of emotional perception came through the channel. Chu Jiang felt her shame and unease, while Wu Yue sensed his restraint and respect.
That perception made both their bodies shudder, and the art nearly broke off.
Wu Yue instinctively leaned back. Instead of pulling away, she pressed even closer. Chu Jiang sucked in a breath; through the thin, drenched fabric, that astonishingly cold and soft sensation was intoxicating. Instinctively, he tightened his arms and drew