Lin Xuan walked behind her, his deep voice sounding by her ear, warm breath brushing against her sensitive little ear. "During this process, you may feel some unusual sensations. I need to use the brushstrokes to sense the flow of your meridians, so there may be some unintended offense. Do not resist, or all our efforts will be wasted."
Dao Baifeng's mind was completely blank at that moment. She could only nod mechanically. "Everything... will be as you say, Young Master."
The moment her words fell, she felt a chill on her back.
The cold, wet tip of a brush soaked in ink gently touched her smooth back.
The sudden coolness made her shudder all over, the fine hairs on her back standing on end. A layer of tiny goosebumps instantly rose across her originally fair skin.
Lin Xuan's hand was exceptionally steady as he wrote, the brush moving like a dragon and snake.
The soft, resilient wolf-hair brush slowly traveled over her skin.
The slight chill of the ink intertwined with the ticklish brush tip, moving all the way down along her spine—the course of the Governing Vessel.
Black ink wound across her snowy back like a black dragon coiled atop a jade mountain. The stark contrast of black against white possessed an eerie sort of beauty.
Lin Xuan drew with extreme care, sometimes sketching lightly, sometimes outlining with heavy strokes. Whenever the brush passed over the sensitive spot at the center of her back, Dao Baifeng could not help but tremble slightly.
"Don't move." Lin Xuan softly rebuked her, pressing one large hand without ceremony onto her rounded left shoulder. The scorching heat of his palm formed a sharp contrast with the cold brushstroke in his other hand.
"Yes..." Dao Baifeng bit her lip and forced herself to