Shenzhou had an old saying: The more you say, the more mistakes you make.
What it meant was that when you talked too much, you might very well lose the woman you loved.
Only now did Li Mu Yang truly understand the saying's deeper meaning.
If he delayed for even a little, even a moment, he might have to face a temptation that was difficult—and unwilling—to refuse.
When Qian Du said to her, "I'm willing," all he needed to do was blush and nod. "I'm willing to offer you my body." Thus, dry tinder met raging fire, and in an instant, passionate flames hotter than even the temperature of the Flaming Mountain would blaze forth.
Li Mu Yang was not a man who failed to adapt.
When the lives of the companions who had entered the realm with him were threatened, let alone offering his body once—even if he had to offer his body for a whole year—he absolutely would not shrink or evade.
"A good man won't let the woman he loves suffer even the slightest hurt
He won't be like a gust of wind, drifting east and west, wandering through tenderness
A good man won't let the lover who waits grow more and more anxious
Alone, unable to see the road happiness takes to come and go
A good man won't let the woman he loves suffer even the slightest hurt
What does it matter if he suffers for the one he loves?"
Zhang Haozhe, the famous wandering singer of the Xifeng Empire, had once sung those very words. His voice had pointed lost, confused, helpless men toward the road of striving and struggling.
Li Mu Yang was willing to offer himself.
Of course, the Seven Shames of Changbai had wanted to offer themselves too, but he had