The atmosphere in the room had grown intensely intimate.
Xiao Yao reached out and gently lifted Ya Fei's exquisite, slightly pale chin.
His movements were tender, yet carried an unquestionable dominance.
Ya Fei's delicate body trembled faintly. She did not resist, merely obediently raising that charming face capable of making any man lose his soul.
Her upturned face rested quietly in Xiao Yao's warm palm. Her watery peach-blossom eyes had misted over with a crystalline haze from the violent turmoil in her heart, lending her entire being a fragile, rain-soaked pear blossom beauty she would never ordinarily reveal to anyone.
She looked like a beautiful canary completely tamed by its owner, presenting herself before him without reservation.
And Xiao Yao now held her entire fate in his hands.
Looking at the peerlessly beautiful face in his palm, so close at hand and ready for his taking, Xiao Yao rarely felt such unrestrained satisfaction: "Awake, I hold the power of the world; drunk, I rest upon a beauty's knees!"
The feeling was strange, yet wonderfully pleasant.
He discovered that, amid this entirely different experience, his state of mind had gained several indescribable insights.
The path of cultivation sought longevity, transcendence, and freedom. But was single-minded bitter cultivation, endlessly suppressing one's humanity, truly the right path?
No!
At the end of the day, Xiao Yao was only a hot-blooded youth who had just turned sixteen!
His name was Xiao Yao, and the Dao he sought was freedom itself!
To act according to one's heart, let one's thoughts flow freely, seek nothing contrary to one's true self or the great principles of the Dao—that was... true freedom!
This was the true meaning of the Dao conveyed to him by the lineages of the Supreme Master and Patriarch Bodhi!
Having understood this, Xiao Yao