Song Wen's face was filled with astonishment.
Why had Ying Wu suddenly become willing to give herself to him?
In the past, countless male cultivators had shown her favor, yet she had treated them all with icy indifference.
Could it be because of his honeyed words?
Or because of the Beauty Serpent and Bodhi Spirit Stamen?
Or perhaps the problem lay with herself—outwardly cold and aloof, but in truth...
"Ye Hua..."
Ying Wu gave Song Wen little time to think. She had already come before him, her slender hand lightly pressing against his chest. Her lovely peach-blossom face tilted upward, mist swirling in her eyes as she gazed at him as though drunk, yet not drunk.
Looking at that beautiful face so close at hand, Song Wen suddenly recalled the air of 'charm' that had surrounded Ying Wu.
That sacred, inviolable bearing made him deeply uncomfortable, stirring an almost instinctive revulsion within him.
It was like a frog at the bottom of a well glimpsing the bright moon above the nine heavens. Yet rather than making the frog feel humble and insignificant, that cold radiance instead awakened the hatred buried in its bones.
He wanted to trample it beneath his feet, to drag that moonlight untouched by even the finest dust down into the dirt.
Song Wen seized the beauty before him and pulled her into his arms, tearing hard...
With a rip, strips of pure white cloth fluttered through the air.
"Slower... It's my first time..."
Ying Wu's voice trembled, and her expression was timid and frail, like petals ravaged by a violent storm—beautiful and delicate, as though they could be torn to pieces at any moment.
Splashes of water struck the rock walls, bursting into glistening blossoms that scattered into the pavilion.
Soft, breathless moans drifted from