He walked out of the Technique Pavilion step by step without looking back. The corridor was silent and empty, with only his footsteps falling on the stone slabs and carrying a faint echo.
He was reminiscing. At that moment, he had nearly lost control.
Not because of demonic arts, nor because of bewitchment, but because there truly was a trace of desire and tenderness hidden in his own heart.
He closed his eyes, as if trying to press the demonic fragrance between their lips and teeth, the tenderness brushed by his fingertips, and the surging emotions in those blue-gold strange eyes deep into the bottom of his heart.
Too soft, and he would lose his edge;
Too deeply moved, and he would lose sight of his original intent.
There was only one day left until the Azure Cloud Arena.
And the Wang family had yet to be exterminated. They were like a ferocious beast hiding in the shadows, liable to tear open the defenses and devour every weakling at any moment.
What troubled Chu Ning even more was his elder sister.
It had been a full seven days since Curator Lei Wanjun had moved her to a safe place, yet no message had come. Given Lei Wanjun's methods and caution, he could not have gone silent for no reason, unless... he had deliberately cut off contact, or—or something had happened.
Chu Ning placed his palm against his chest, his fingertips slowly brushing over that warm, soft bundle.
"Xiaoxue, can you hear me?"
There was no response.
She was sleeping deeply, without even a twitch of her tail.
He gave a bitter smile and gently tucked her into the innermost layer of his clothes. Though the weight against his chest was light, it felt like a fox jade pressing over his