The Ultimate Winner, The Pope's Night of Victory!

Maple Dye Pavilion, second floor.

In the quiet room, soft morning light filtered through the gauze curtains, casting a hazy glow.

Bibi Dong's delicate brows furrowed slightly. Her long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings as she slowly opened those amethyst-like eyes.

She moved instinctively, intending to stretch lazily.

"Hiss—"

An indescribable soreness, mixed with utter exhaustion, instantly spread from her waist and abdomen through her entire body, making her suck in a sharp breath.

Her body felt as though it had been taken apart and painstakingly reassembled, every joint crying out with the weakness left after being thoroughly conquered.

Her abdomen and legs in particular were so weak and sore that she could barely muster even a trace of a Title Douluo's strength.

That familiar yet unfamiliar sensation instantly awakened her fragmented memories.

Last night...

Lin Feng's teasing words: "Who said I didn't keep my word?"

And afterward... the overbearing yet tender way he had fulfilled his promise, leaving no room for refusal...

One blush-inducing, heart-pounding, soul-trembling scene after another crashed through her mind like floodwaters bursting through a broken dam.

"Boom!"

Bibi Dong's cheeks instantly flushed crimson, burning hot.

She abruptly pulled the silky brocade quilt over herself and buried her head deep beneath it, like an ostrich finally caught by a hunter, yet willing all the same.

Wrapped in darkness and softness, she could clearly hear her own pounding heartbeat, as well as the man's distinctive scent that still lingered in the bedding.

After a long while.

Only then did she cautiously poke her little head out from under the quilt.

Her purple eyes still held the dazed haze of a hangover, but even more than that, they shone with joy from the depths of her soul and disbelief.

"Last night..."

"Lin Feng... he really, really did it