The Drunken Butterfly

"Hoo—"

Bibi Dong took a deep breath, steeling her nerves.

After "brewing" for a moment, she gently lifted her nightgown, used her finger to hook open a purple "sleeping bag," and released a "Radiant Goddess Butterfly."

Immediately after, Bibi Dong bit her lip and closed her eyes. Just as she was about to make a "move," Zhao Linchuan suddenly opened his eyes!

He raised his right hand and, with lightning speed, struck toward the "center of the brows" of that "Radiant Goddess Butterfly!"

"Wait—!"

At the very instant his fingertip was about to make contact, Zhao Linchuan finally saw the situation clearly.

His pupils contracted sharply and he pulled back his strength, but the momentum was too great to fully retract; his fingertip had already touched the "center of the brows" of the "Radiant Goddess Butterfly!"

"Ah—!!"

A painful shriek erupted from Bibi Dong's throat!

The sound was sharp and shrill, exploding in the silent night and startling the birds in the courtyard into flight.

She let go of her nightgown as if electrocuted, jumped off the bed, and covered her "sleeping bag" with both hands. Her face flushed bright red, her eyes welled up with tears, and she turned and ran outside.

Her footsteps were fast and frantic, her bare feet slapping against the cold floorboards.

The scream woke Yan Lingji. She propped herself up, glanced at Bibi Dong's retreating figure, and said with sleepy eyes:

"What did you do to her?"

Zhao Linchuan withdrew his hand, looked at his fingertip, and remained silent for a moment.

After a long while, he spoke slowly, recounting exactly what had just happened.

"This..."

"The situation is like this..."

"...That is roughly it."

"Ah—?!"

After hearing the description, Yan Lingji couldn't help but shriek, her expression a mix of laughter and tears.

"She was actually being serious?"

She hurriedly pulled Zhao Linchuan's hand over, turning it over and over to inspect it.

"Thank goodness, no blood, and that thing is still there..." Yan Lingji let out a long sigh of relief and patted her chest. "Otherwise, you really would have ruined her."

She released Zhao Linchuan's hand, threw off the quilt, sat up, and began to put on her clothes.

"I'll go check on her, comfort her, and see if anything is wrong."

She tied her sash, grabbed her coat, and turned to look at Zhao Linchuan.

"You rest for now. I might not be back tonight."

"Should I come with you?" Zhao Linchuan propped himself up, making a move to get out of bed.

"Absolutely not." Yan Lingji waved her hands hurriedly. "If you go too, I suspect Dong'er might just run headfirst into a wall."

She walked slowly to the bedroom door, pushed it open, and looked back.

"Sleep, don't overthink it. I'm going to check on her."

"I leave it to you, my lady," Zhao Linchuan said with some concern. "Please, make sure she doesn't do anything rash."

"Rest assured, leave it to this wife of yours..."

A long time later.

Yan Lingji followed Bibi Dong all the way to the Saintess Hall.

Bibi Dong had dived into her bedroom, collapsed onto the bed, and buried her face in the bedding. Her shoulders were heaving, and she was curled up into a ball like a frightened rabbit.

About a quarter of an hour later.

The soul-guide lamp in the bedroom was relit, and the warm glow dispelled the darkness of the room.

Bibi Dong sat on the edge of the bed, burying her head in Yan Lingji's chest. She gripped Yan Lingji's lapels tightly, her tears soaking the fabric, looking utterly aggrieved.

"Sister Lingji..." she sobbed, her voice muffled. "I really didn't know what I was doing at the time."

"I was so muddled that the thought just came to me... I really didn't mean it."

"There, there."

Yan Lingji gently stroked Bibi Dong's back, her palm sliding over her spine again and again, her voice soft and gentle.

"He didn't blame you, did he?"

"Wuwuwu..."

As soon as Yan Lingji said this, Bibi Dong cried even harder.

Tears fell like beads from a broken string, pattering down, and her whole body trembled slightly.

Yes, Zhao Linchuan had not blamed her.

But!

But—!!

Even in her own heart, Bibi Dong did not want to dwell on it any further.

That scene just now was simply too humiliating!

She, the dignified Saintess of Spirit Hall and the future Pope, had actually done such a thing and been caught red-handed.

She wished she could find a crack in the ground to crawl into and never come out again.

"Dong'er..."

Yan Lingji sighed, truly not knowing how to comfort Bibi Dong anymore.

She remained silent for a moment, her fingers gently combing through Bibi Dong's hair, stroke after stroke, her movements soft and slow.

"How about this," she said slowly, her voice tinged with a hint of helplessness, "from now on, just be with him."

"Ah...?" Bibi Dong's sobbing paused.

Yan Lingji continued:

"I can tell that you like him, and he cares about you too."

"Otherwise, he wouldn't have given you such precious immortal herbs, spirit rings, and spirit bones."

"And you wouldn't have chosen to hide when he asked you to bear his children."

"Wuwuwu... Sister Lingji..."

As soon as these words were spoken, Bibi Dong cried even harder, her tears flowing like a burst dam, unstoppable.

She lowered her head, her eye sockets red, the tip of her nose red as well, looking both pitiful and adorable.

"You and Linchuan are such a good pair; are you really willing to share him?"

"What a thing to say."

Yan Lingji smiled slightly. She raised her hand and used her thumb to gently wipe the tears from Bibi Dong's cheeks.

"For a man like him, how could he not have a few women around to take care of him?"

"If I were to tie him down and not let any other women be by his side, what difference would there be between me and a jealous shrew?"

"Besides, a hundred children—I would be exhausted to death before I could give birth to that many."

"Don't I need to find others to help me share the burden?"

"Huh?"

Hearing this, Bibi Dong jerked her head up, her eyes wide and round, tears still hanging on her lashes, trembling. She looked both shocked and bewildered.

"Sister Lingji, are you actually planning to have a hundred children with him?"

"Of course."

Yan Lingji said with great spirit, her eyes shining with a bright light, as if she were already looking forward to that bustling future.

"Only with many children can a family appear powerful."

"Among those royals and nobles, which one doesn't have a house full of wives and concubines, with descendants everywhere?"

"My husband is so outstanding; what is wrong with him taking a few more wives and having a hundred children?"

"You really are generous."

Bibi Dong rubbed her reddened eyes, her voice filled with a complex emotion that was hard to define.

She looked at Yan Lingji for a long time, as if she were getting to know this gentle and magnanimous woman all over again.

"If I were you, I would never share him."

Yan Lingji smiled at this, not taking the bait.

She raised her right hand and used her thumb to gently wipe away the remaining tear tracks on Bibi Dong's cheek.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked softly.

At these words, Bibi Dong's face turned red in an instant.

The redness spread from her cheeks to her earlobes, burned from her ears down to her neck, and continued all the way to her chest, as if she had been tossed into a vat of dye.

She lowered her head, not daring to meet Yan Lingji's eyes, her fingers twisting the hem of her clothes as she murmured softly:

"It hurts... the wings have even turned purple..."