The Little Witch Overshot and Gave Herself Away

Before Ning Rongrong could finish her sentence, a strong pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her waist and pulled hard, causing her to lose her balance instantly and pitch forward helplessly.

"Ah—!"

She let out a short, startled gasp as her skirt billowed in midair like a suddenly blooming flower, and then she tumbled straight down into the soft pallet on the floor.

Zhao Linchuan pressed both hands against the backs of her thighs, his palms resting against the soft skin of her inner knees, and pushed down hard, pinning her knees firmly against her shoulders.

Her body was folded in half, and her skirt had ridden up past her waist due to the position, exposing a large expanse of fair skin and that small, bamboo-green undergarment.

The bamboo-green fabric was thin and clung tightly to her body, outlining the maiden's budding curves.

The contours of her chest were not exaggerated, yet they were just right, like two tart fruit buds just beginning to plump up.

"Rongrong," Zhao Linchuan said in an unhurried tone, "you're seducing me here."

"How could Rongrong ever do such a thing?"

Ning Rongrong didn't care about her current predicament in the least, making no move to struggle at all.

Though her body was folded into a somewhat shameful position, the expression on her face remained composed, and she said without changing her expression:

"Rongrong was only worried that Big Brother wouldn't take responsibility for me after he's had his fill."

"How could I not take responsibility?"

Zhao Linchuan leaned forward a fraction, pressing almost completely against Ning Rongrong so that the tips of their noses were practically touching.

"I am, after all, the most responsible man in the world."

"Is that so?"

Ning Rongrong pulled her skirt up a bit higher, her movements unhurried and even carrying a hint of elegance.

The hem was tugged upward by her, rolling up the edge of her top to reveal a slender stretch of waist.

Her tone carried a hook, every sentence ending with a slight upward lilt.

"Big Brother, will you really take responsibility for me?"

"Of course."

Zhao Linchuan replied, pressing his body forward a fraction more, that sense of "threat" practically wedged right at the "doorway" of her home.

"Yet, Big Brother."

Ning Rongrong paid no mind to the "threat" wedged at the "doorway," even taking the initiative to adjust her position so she could lie more comfortably.

Still using that alluring tone, she said:

"I am the daughter of Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect Master Ning Fengzhi, and also the future heir of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect."

"If Big Brother takes Rongrong, what shall we do if my father gets upset?"

"What if he gets upset enough to have my Sword Grandpa and Bone Grandpa, two Title Douluo, make a move and kill you, Big Brother?"

Her gaze stared straight into Zhao Linchuan's eyes, a trace of an elusive smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"What if they still don't feel the anger has left them after killing you, and go ahead and kill Xiao Wu and Zhuqing as well?"

"Are you threatening me?" Zhao Linchuan's voice turned cold, his gaze sinking.

"How could Rongrong threaten Big Brother?"

Though Ning Rongrong said this, her eyes were filled entirely with provocation, like two leaping tongues of flame, bright enough to scorch.

"Rongrong will only feel sorry for Big Brother~~~"

Seeing that Zhao Linchuan's expression seemed somewhat hesitant, she pressed her advantage, taking the initiative to lean her body toward him and press even closer.

She could feel that "threat" resting directly against the "door" through the thin fabric, like a knocker ready to rap at any moment.

"If you take Rongrong, the consequences will be quite severe."

She lifted her upper body slightly, the bamboo-green undergarment stretching a bit more from the movement.

Then she pressed her lips to Zhao Linchuan's ear, the hot breath of her exhale spilling over his auricle, her voice as light as a feather brushing across the strings of a lute, every word dragging out an ambiguous tail end.

"Big Brother, are you a man?"

"Don't let Rongrong look down on you, oh~~"

"Even if my father and the others want to kill your whole family, Rongrong will still put in a good word for you—"

"Mmm—!"

Before Ning Rongrong could finish her sentence, she suddenly let out a sharp, stifled cry.

The sound came too fast and too abruptly, cut off the moment it left her throat like a taut lute string snapping suddenly.

Her eyes bulged outward sharply, her pupils dilating instantly as her eye sockets filled with tears almost in the space of a heartbeat.

Her whole body instinctively arched upward, both hands grabbing fiercely at Zhao Linchuan's back, her ten fingers digging into his clothes like hooks.

She looked at Zhao Linchuan in absolute disbelief, trembling all over as she said:

"You... you scoundrel!"

"You actually...!"

"...Hurry up and get out of this room!"

"Little girl, today I'm going to teach you a lesson."

"So that you know how wrong a decision it is to provoke a Soul Master stronger than yourself."

"Don't—! Rongrong was wrong!"

"Since you know you were wrong, then you must accept punishment!"

After a long time.

Roughly half an hour later.

The tent finally grew quiet.

Amidst Ning Rongrong's tearful and howling pleas for mercy, Zhao Linchuan finally let her go, and quite reluctantly at that.

If he kept going, she might actually cry herself into a faint.

Ning Rongrong curled up in a corner of the tent, shrinking into a tiny ball.

She cupped her face in both hands, her ten fingers covering most of her face and leaving only a pair of tear-filled eyes exposed as tears leaked between her fingers and streamed down the back of her hands.

Ning Rongrong never imagined that she had merely wanted to tease him, crack a joke, and give him a scare, only for him to actually take her.

In the end, it was only through her desperate resistance, threatening him with her life and saying that if he dared to take that final step and give her a child, she would dash her brains out right there, that Zhao Linchuan had finally slammed on the brakes.

Yet even so, she was no longer a little girl.

Ning Rongrong sobbed a few times, sniffing and randomly wiping the tears and snot from her face with her sleeve, smearing her delicate little face into a mess of red and white.

She raised her head and looked at Zhao Linchuan as he dressed, her gaze complex and inexpressible.

After hesitating for a long time, she still couldn't help speaking up, her voice carrying a slight sob as she said:

"What is your Martial Soul? What is your Soul Power Level?"

She asked this for two reasons.

If Zhao Linchuan's Martial Soul and Soul Power Level could meet her criteria for a mate...

No, they didn't need to meet it, as long as they weren't too far off, then she would accept it.

From then on, she would stay by his side as his woman, as his wife, as the mother of his children.

Yet if Zhao Linchuan was just all show, relying on a Soul-Extinguishing Gun and a mouth that knew how to sweet-talk while actually being nothing more than an ordinary Soul Master with mediocre aptitude—

Then she would spend some money to set him up with a property outside and keep him as a kept man on the side.

Whenever she grew tired, weary, or sick of the sect's affairs in the future, she could just come here to relax.

At any rate, she wasn't going to let him take advantage of her for free.