Golden light surged and shimmered like a tide, swallowing Wang Xian's figure.
Wuyue felt the warmth in her arms vanish. The warm body dissolved into a streak of light.
Like moonlight that had been in her hands just a moment ago: she could see its pure, bright glow, yet she couldn't grasp that touch of cool tenderness.
She froze for an instant, then stepped barefoot onto a rock beside the stream.
The stream was icy cold, but not as cold as the sudden drop in temperature in her heart.
Even though her body remained alluring and graceful.
Her full breasts swelled high, so much so that she couldn't see her toes when she looked down. Her beauty was still enough to topple kingdoms, her radiant smile enough to make a hundred flowers pale. But so what?
The young man in her arms—the Wang Xian she had schemed to claim for so long, the one she had regarded as already hers—had just become a passing breeze and slipped through her fingers.
Like a flower in full bloom swept from its branch by a gale, blown away to who knew where.
"No..."
A low, unwilling growl rose from the depths of Wuyue's throat.
Her cry began in restraint, then erupted like a volcano, shaking the void before her.
The peach was in her hands, the duck already cooked—and just like that, they'd both flown away?
Impossible!
She would never allow it!
Rage surged through her veins like magma.
She abruptly raised her hand and made a grab at the empty air. A black longsword, formed from pure demonic energy, took shape once more.
Dark purple veins ran along its blade, like the blood vessels of a living creature.
"Be cut down!"
She cried out, and the longsword, carrying her towering fury, slashed