"Hey, hey, hey, that's a personal attack," Song Qingshu protested. "Have I ever harmed you or something? Why are you so resentful?"
He had finally managed to raise Xiaolongnü's favorability to max, only for Li Qingluo to interrupt at the crucial moment and ruin everything. Now she was slandering him like this. Song Qingshu did not need to think to know that his standing in Xiaolongnü's heart had plummeted. He deliberately emphasized the word "harmed" as he provocatively stared at Li Qingluo's full breasts and shapely curve of her hips, as though reminding her whether she wanted another taste of that night's punishment.
Li Qingluo naturally understood what he meant, but she could hardly admit it in front of Xiaolongnü. She could only shoot him a resentful glare. Yet that invasive gaze made her heart tremble, and she instinctively squeezed her legs together.
When Wang Yuyan had still been very young, her husband had passed away. She had been alone all these years, but determined to avenge her aunt, she devoted herself to building up the White Lotus Society and never felt lonely. Until... until that night...
After that night, it was as if Li Qingluo had opened a new door. It made her realize that she was a mature woman. Her late husband had been frail, and the two of them had rarely shared the pleasures of the bedchamber. She had never thought much of it, but the shudder that had reached her very soul that night made her realize how much beauty she had missed all these years.
Though rationally she disliked what had happened that night, her body's reaction could not lie. After a long drought, she had encountered sweet rain. Ever since then, in the stillness of deep night, she often tossed and turned in bed,