Social Circle

"Ahem, Ze Tian, watch yourself..."

Seeing that Zheng Zetian was about to slip a hand beneath one of the disciples' inner robes, Song Dayou, who was at the helm, nearly steered the boat into a wreck. He hurriedly sent Zheng Zetian a warning through voice transmission.

Nearby, Real Person Shuxin also spoke gently through voice transmission. "It's all right. My ill-disciplined disciple was disturbing Junior Brother's cultivation."

"Yes, Junior Sister Ling Chan caught a chill and feels a little dizzy. I'll take her back to the cabin to rest."

Zheng Zetian swept Ling Chan into his arms and carried her down to the cabin, laying her on the bed. He even wrapped her jade-white feet in a bedsheet. She was dressed in so little, with all that silk and brocade—she might really catch a chill.

As he stepped outside, he heard Real Person Shuxin's gentle laugh from the adjoining room.

"Junior Brother Ze Tian, come over and talk."

"Yes, Real Person."

Without changing expression, Zheng Zetian pushed the door open and walked straight into the tiger's den.

Well, calling it a tiger's den was a bit of an exaggeration.

A pill furnace stood in the elegant room, wreathed in vapor and giving off the rich aroma of fine pills. In the inner chamber, Real Person Shuxin had taken off her robes and lay on her side, wearing only a pair of white embroidered slippers. Her long, pale legs, like white radishes, stretched out at an angle, dazzling the eye. The pale-yellow undergarment embroidered with mandarin ducks playing in water was also stretched taut, while her warm, jade-like shoulders were exposed, drawing the eye all the more.

"Don't be so formal. We're all fellow Daoists of the Mystic Sect. Come sit beside me, a little closer."

A strand of prayer beads