Qian Renxue (9)

Dai Chengfeng did not let go of Bibi Dong when that kiss ended. Instead, he held her even tighter, pressing their bodies together until there was almost no space between them. He could feel the soft body beneath Bibi Dong's robe, and that faint, barely perceptible trembling—not fear, but release after being suppressed for too long, the aftershock of an emotional flood breaking through its dam.

"Dong'er," he called softly, his voice a little hoarse from the passion just now, "do you know? Every time I see you wearing this Pope's Robe, I want to take it off you with my own hands."

Bibi Dong's cheeks turned even redder, and she gave his chest a light punch. "Impudent."

Despite what she said, she did not push him away. Instead, she pressed even closer to him. A smile tugged at Dai Chengfeng's lips as his fingertips lightly traced the intricate golden embroidery on her long robe, feeling the delicate patterns and the smooth fabric.

"This robe is too heavy," he said in a low voice, his fingers moving to the clasps at the back of her neck. "It represents responsibility, power, and aloofness. But right now, you don't need any of that."

His nimble fingertips undid the first clasp. Bibi Dong's body stiffened slightly, but she did not stop him. She only raised her eyes to look at him, her purple pupils shimmering with watery light, as if holding a thousand unspoken words.

"Chengfeng." She called his name softly, the end of it carrying a sigh so faint it was almost inaudible.

"Shh." Dai Chengfeng lightly pressed a finger to her lips. "Today, we won't talk about the Pope or Spirit Hall. There is only you and me, Bibi Dong and Dai Chengfeng."

The second clasp was undone, and the purple-gold