Sixty-six Frames

Qiao Ranran turned her head and shrank back, muttering, "I'll change right away." Before she could take a step, a sweep of Pei Ling's sleeve swept her into his arms. She tilted her head up and met his gaze, where a light burned that she did not understand—and did not dare understand.

"It looks good."

Pei Ling held Qiao Ranran's slender waist with one hand and slipped the Black Phoenix Hairpin into her lovely hair with the other. The shopkeeper had given her a new hairstyle and applied makeup, making her look like an entirely different person. Only her eyes remained as clear and bright as ever, now with a hint of panic.

Pei Ling finally understood what had caused all that tangled unease he had never quite recognized in himself. Qiao Ranran was too clean, like the female cultivators those Righteous Cultivators admired most: pure, untainted, and beautiful. As for him, even after joining the Profound Heart Sect and draping himself in the most ordinary outward guise, he still knew it was nothing more than a disguise.

Only now, when this beautiful, untainted person had finally been stained with a trace of black—even if it was merely on the surface—did he feel that the person in his arms was finally closer to him.

His fingers slid down her hair and brushed over her brows and eyes. It was these eyes—Pei Ling's pupils trembled slightly. Forget it. Better leave them unchanged.

Unaware of what Pei Ling was feeling, Qiao Ranran was wholly distracted by the cold touch at her waist. It was not as though he had never held her before, but this time was completely different. This outfit had only a layer of sheer gauze at the waist, revealing tantalizing glimpses of her slender, supple figure. Pei Ling's hand