That intense contrast between softness and firmness brought an indescribable, extreme thrill and shock.
With every rub, she felt an unfamiliar pleasure beyond words. The electric tingling nearly seeped into her bones and marrow, leaving her delicate body limp, almost collapsing into Lin Xuan's arms, unable to stop herself.
Her consciousness began to blur, as if this sudden surge had overwhelmed her. Her mind reeled, and she sank completely into it.
The author's note: This chapter is a little steamy. There'll be two more tonight.
Chapter 17: Huang Rong's Turmoil
The night breeze was cool, but it could not dispel the blazing heat spreading through Huang Rong's heart.
She had never felt anything like this before.
An unprecedented sense of shame, tinged with a strange, irresistible dizziness, swept over her like a tide.
Her body seemed to have slipped beyond her control.
A powerful, suffocating force held her fast. Its source was both Lin Xuan, pressed close behind her, and the unfamiliar instinct awakened deep within her by this sudden intimacy.
Her delicate body was completely confined by his solid, powerful frame.
She wanted to struggle, to push the young man away.
Instinctively, she resisted being pressed so close to him, especially in this moonlit, perilous wilderness.
But reason lashed at her mind like a cold whip: chasing the scout was the only thing that mattered now!
Even the slightest distraction or delay might let this crucial figure, tied to military intelligence, escape.
Besides, she could keenly feel Lin Xuan's firm muscles and explosive strength.
His body, taut from the pursuit, was pressed close against her slender, boneless waist.
His arm, like iron, circled her waist and held her firmly in place on the saddle, leaving her unable to move or resist.
This helplessness, instead, stirred a strange sense of compliance.
Forced, almost instinctively, she used her graceful, curvaceous body to move with every jolt of Lin Xuan's movements in the saddle.
Her usually agile, light frame was no longer rigid. Instead, it began to soften.
Like silk steeped in water, her body grew more pliant, nestling closer and fitting more snugly against Lin Xuan.
Without even realizing it, she pressed herself more tightly against his back, almost merging with him completely.
Each time Lin Xuan squeezed the horse's flanks, it surged forward faster. The violent jolts that followed traveled clearly through their bodies, pressed tightly together, reaching every inch of her skin and bones. They left her weak all over, her thoughts swirling.
It was an unprecedented experience, one that made her feel both mortified and overcome by an uncontrollable tingling.
Lin Xuan felt the subtle change in Huang Rong's body.
He could clearly tell that she had softened from her initial rigid resistance. Her breathing, once hurried, had grown heavier, even carrying the faintest, involuntary sigh.
She no longer tried to pull away. Instead, she unconsciously adjusted her posture to the horse's violent jolting, making their already close contact even more intimate.
In the darkness, Lin Xuan's lips curved in a barely perceptible smile as the Yin Yang Deficit Supplementation Technique surged into full force.
The hands he had wrapped around Huang Rong's slender waist occasionally brushed it lightly to steady her lithe body.
His fingers even seemed to touch the delicate skin at her waist by accident—perhaps a little more deliberately than that.
Each seemingly casual yet intensely invasive touch lit another flame in Huang Rong's heart.
Wave after wave of heat spread through her body like electricity from the spots where Lin Xuan had seemingly brushed against her.
The warmth traveled from her waist through her limbs, reaching the depths of her heart. A flush quickly spread across her exquisitely beautiful face.
She bit down hard on her lower lip, nearly drawing blood, trying to use the pain to bring herself back to her senses. She struggled to focus on the scout speeding ahead, hoping reason could suppress her body's instinctive response.
This nameless, indescribable feeling left her unbearably ashamed, yet strangely unable to resist.
She felt as if she were bound completely to Lin Xuan, caught between advancing and retreating, her body slipping helplessly and inevitably deeper into the sensation.
Her soft curves, warm skin, and the fine sweat brought on by her tension all spoke of her body's loss of control.
The road through the outskirts grew rougher and rougher.
The woods were thick with shrubs, and jagged rocks littered the ground.
The Mongol scout was clearly familiar with the terrain. He rode through the brush and rocks, swerving left and right in an attempt to shake off the pursuers who clung to his heels.
Every violent jolt, every sudden turn or leap of the horse drove Huang Rong's lithe, delicate body deeper into Lin Xuan's arms, entirely against her will.
Huang Rong was burning all over. Fine beads of sweat had already gathered on her forehead, then slid down her beautiful cheek and dripped onto Lin Xuan's clothes.
The sweat was not from the strain of the chase. It came from their overwhelming intimacy and the torment of the moment, as well as the desire rising within her.
Her skin was flushed red, like a begonia blossom scorched by the sun—vivid and alluring, with a hint of bewitching sensuality.
Every breath she took, every tremble, every faint sound she made as their bodies rubbed together—
Lin Xuan felt each of these subtle, shameful reactions as clearly as if he could hear the whispers deep within her body.
He felt the fullness and resilience of her hips, and the waves of scorching heat coming from her.
His own lower body had long since grown hard as iron, pressing firmly against the fullest and most sensitive part of her.
The rhythmic friction, deep and penetrating, left Huang Rong's mind utterly blank.
Her consciousness was completely overwhelmed by the most primitive instincts of her body. All the intelligence and quick-wittedness she usually prided herself on had vanished.
She even felt an indescribable dampness quietly welling up from deep within her.
Her mind had fallen into chaos. She could barely tell whether this was shame, anticipation, or some strange mixture of both.
At last, after pursuing him for more than ten li—
The Mongol scout's horse, exhausted from running at full speed for so long, finally collapsed.
The scout tumbled awkwardly to the side and tried to scramble up, but he was clearly spent. His limbs were weak, and his movements sluggish.
Lin Xuan executed a sharp skid. Under his precise control, his horse came to a neat stop beside the scout, its hooves kicking up dust that artfully missed Huang Rong.
He released Huang Rong almost instantly, his movements fluid as he sprang from the saddle like a streak of lightning.
Before he even landed, a fierce palm strike flashed out and struck the Mongol scout, knocking him unconscious with precision.
The entire sequence was smooth and swift, leaving no time to react. It displayed Lin Xuan's extraordinary martial arts and quick judgment, and shifted the focus away from the ambiguity between the two of them at just the right moment.
The instant Lin Xuan pulled away, Huang Rong's delicate body felt a sudden sense of loss and emptiness.
A rush of cool air abruptly dragged her out of the haze, bringing her back to her senses.
Yet the lingering heat and tingling in her body refused to fade, etched into every inch of her skin like a brand, reminding her of what had just happened.
She sat on the horse, staring blankly as Lin Xuan efficiently subdued and bound the scout.
His back looked tall and solid beneath the moonlight, like an immovable mountain, carrying a composure and authority beyond his years.
Huang Rong's cheeks were still burning hot.
Her heartbeat had yet to settle, pounding like a drum and making her chest ache.
Her legs trembled faintly, as if she had just finished a strenuous run; she could barely bring them together.
Without thinking, she reached back and touched the part of her bottom Lin Xuan had rubbed against so intimately.
It was still warm, as if his youthful, masculine presence and scorching touch lingered there.
The searing shame and flustered confusion left her struggling to breathe steadily.
She did not even dare look down at her undergarments, afraid she might find a damp spot or a wrinkle that would make her blush.
She felt utterly weak, her limbs limp, as though she had just been completely plundered, all her strength and cunning drained away.
After tying up the scout, Lin Xuan walked over to the horse.
He seemed to have returned entirely to his usual calm and self-restraint.
He looked just tired enough, but his eyes were clear and bright, as though he had merely taken part in an ordinary pursuit, with no trace of the indescribable ambiguity from the ride remaining.
"Master, thank goodness we didn't let him get away!" he said, sounding relieved, his tone sincere and respectful.
He reached out to help Huang Rong dismount.
His palm was dry and warm, carrying a reassuring strength.
When Huang Rong's fingertips touched Lin Xuan's warm palm, a current seemed to race through her whole body once more.
It ran from her fingertips up her arm and into her heart, making her heartbeat, which had only just begun to settle, quicken again.
Using his support, she meant to hop lightly down from the saddle and maintain her usual composure.
But after so long rubbing intimately against him, and with her emotions in such turmoil, her legs were limp and weak.
She staggered and, almost without thinking, fell toward Lin Xuan.
She reached out instinctively, meaning to grab the saddle, but suddenly collided with Lin Xuan's broad, solid chest.
Lin Xuan clearly had not expected her to lose her balance so suddenly, but he reacted quickly, tightening his arms around her and holding her soft body securely.
Huang Rong's head was almost entirely buried against his chest.
She could feel his strong, steady heartbeat and smell his distinctive, faintly masculine scent. It enveloped her at once, making her dizzy again.
The few brief seconds seemed to stretch into eternity.
Lin Xuan held her steady, then let go as soon as she was back on her feet, as if nothing more than an accident had occurred.
His expression showed not the slightest hint of anything unusual—only concern and respect for his master.
"Master, we don't know who this man is. I'm worried he may have accomplices in the city. We should take him back as soon as possible and interrogate him thoroughly," Lin Xuan suggested, his tone serious and dutiful about military affairs.
He showed none of the seemingly "unintentional" transgression from their ride. This left Huang Rong feeling both an inexplicable disappointment and an equally indescribable sense of relief.
"Mm... all right..." Huang Rong's voice was a little hoarse. She tried to appear calm, but even the simplest words came out with difficulty.
The author's note: The full version of this chapter is in the group.
Chapter 18: The Traitor Murong Fu
The moon had faded from sight, and the pitch-black sky was turning leaden gray with the approaching dawn. Cold wind swept in from the wilderness, carrying the damp smell of earth and a chill that sent shivers down the spine.
Lin Xuan led the horse steadily, while Huang Rong remained seated in the saddle. In the darkest hour before dawn, her face looked somewhat pale. The lingering tide of embarrassment made her body stiff and difficult to control. She did not even dare look down at her clothes, afraid the dampness would reveal the secret in her heart.
Lin Xuan, however, seemed perfectly composed, his steps steady. He looked tired but satisfied at having completed the task. He even turned his head casually to ask, "Master, are you tired? We should pick up the pace."
His voice was clear and gentle, nothing like the almost brazen intimacy of their ride. This left Huang Rong feeling inexplicably disappointed.
It was not until they returned to Guo Mansion that Lin Xuan led the horse into the rear courtyard.
He glanced at the bound Mongol scout and calmly ordered the guards, "Take him to the underground cell and keep him under close watch. No one is to approach without an order from Great Hero Guo or Sect Leader Huang."
Impressed by Lin Xuan's composure and authority, the guards respectfully obeyed.
The underground cell lay deep in the rear courtyard of Guo Mansion. Built beneath the ground for interrogating enemy agents, it was cold and damp inside. The dim light of a single oil lamp flickered, casting the three of them as long, dancing shadows on the walls.
The Mongol scout was a lean, wiry man. Even bound, his eyes remained fierce. He was thrown to the floor with a dull thud, but merely grunted and then lay still.
Guo Jing soon arrived as well. He looked at the scout, then at Huang Rong and Lin Xuan, his eyes full of relief. "Rong'er, Xuan'er, you've worked hard. This scout will surely be tight-lipped. I'll prepare a few methods and make him talk!"
Guo Jing was kindhearted, but when it came to the greater good of the country, he never showed mercy. He knew that Mongol scouts like these were all willing to die for their cause; ordinary questioning would get nothing out of them.
"Brother Jing, there's no need," Huang Rong said softly, stopping him. Though her voice still carried a hint of fatigue, she sounded unusually clearheaded.
She looked at Lin Xuan, a complicated expression in her eyes. She knew he always had clever plans, but today, she had a better approach.
"Brother Jing, this scout has probably already made up his mind to die," Huang Rong gently explained. "Torturing him will only backfire and make him more stubborn. Why don't... let me try my 'Soul Shifting Great Law'?"
Guo Jing was taken aback. He looked at Huang Rong, then comprehension dawned in his eyes. He knew her skills well, and her Soul Shifting Great Law was indeed effective.
He nodded. "All right, Rong'er. Go ahead and use it. Xuan'er, assist her."
After Guo Jing left, only Lin Xuan, Huang Rong, and the captive scout remained in the cell. Huang Rong told the guards to wait outside and make sure no sound escaped.
Huang Rong walked over and sat on a stone stool. Her dark, fitted outfit, under the dim lamplight, accentuated her slender, graceful figure. She gently rubbed her temple with her long, jade-white fingers, trying to dispel the dizziness and heat from the ride. Her gaze settled on the Mongol scout, carrying a hint of scrutiny and curiosity.
She slowly raised her hand and lightly brushed her hair aside. The gesture looked casual, but she was secretly gathering her strength. She lowered her eyes and stared at the scout, letting out a faint, almost inaudible murmur—like wind passing over dead leaves, or a mountain spring tinkling. It carried a strange rhythm. It was the Soul Shifting Great Law.
Lin Xuan watched Huang Rong. Her posture remained unchanged, but a strange light flickered in her eyes.
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