Bibi Dong's hand jerked, and the wolf-hair brush dragged a long streak of ink across the document.
She gritted her teeth, took a deep breath, and forced her attention back to the document.
But the harder she tried, the clearer that face became: the infuriating smile at the corner of his mouth, the careless look in his golden eyes, and those words: "Call me teacher."
A tingling sensation suddenly surged through her lower abdomen.
Bibi Dong stiffened. Her legs drew together on instinct, her knees touching lightly beneath the desk.
Her knuckles whitened around the brush. Her face flushed, and her teeth ground together.
Damn it. Why did thinking of Su Yu make me react like this?
She shoved the document away, rose from her chair, and paced the hall.
But no matter how fast she walked or how many circuits she made, the itch seeping from her very bones would not fade.
She pressed a hand to her forehead. Her palm was burning, and so were her cheeks. Leaning against a pillar, Bibi Dong closed her eyes and drew several deep, ragged breaths.
During her seven days in the Rakshasa Secret Realm, she had experienced every negative emotion.
Rage, hatred, jealousy, murderous intent—each had been magnified to its limit, and each she had forced back down.
Yet the thoughts she harbored about Su Yu were the one thing the Rakshasa Divine Power had not crushed. Instead, they seemed to have been fed by it, burning ever hotter.
She even had a vague sense that the heat was tainted with a trace of the Rakshasa Divine Power's wickedness. Every time she thought of Su Yu, it came with a pleasure that bordered on depravity.
"Damn it..."
Bibi Dong cursed under her breath, unsure whether she meant Su Yu or herself.