Clatter—
The sound of the marriage contract hitting the floor was like a thunderbolt in broad daylight. Ji Yanqing’s mind buzzed, never having felt such despair.
The room’s air froze, a deathly silence.
Xie Lingwan’s expression stiffened, then turned to bewilderment. A torrent of emotions swirled in her heart, her eyes misting over.
Taking a deep breath, the palace-gowned beauty pursed her red lips, trembling as she bent to pick up the vivid red booklet, flipping it open.
A glance revealed glaring words: “marriage contract,” “Ji Yanqing,” “Su Ningyue.” Her face paled, nearly fainting on the spot.
“Auntie Xie…” Ji Yanqing ventured.
She shot him an icy glare, colder than ever, even in her angriest moments.
The Wei King’s Heir shut up, like a husband caught cheating, bowing his head for the coming storm.
“Has the Heir discussed this engagement with the King?” Xie Lingwan asked coldly, clinging to her noble composure, her tone stripped of past warmth.
She called him “Heir,” not “Yanqing.”
“Auntie Xie, let me expla—”
“Get out! I’m the legitimate daughter of Gusu Xie, daughter-in-law of Lanling Xiao, with no ties to you, Ji Yanqing,” she choked, tears welling, sliding down her cheeks.
Seeing this, Ji Yanqing grabbed her wrist, pressing on, “It’s my fault for not telling you first. This engagement is—”
Mid-sentence, he regretted it. His explanation only darkened the mess, and no amount of words could wash it clean.
“You’re not at fault. I shouldn’t meddle,” Xie Lingwan sobbed, twisting free, muttering, “I wish you and Miss Su a century of harmony. I’ll return to my family tonight… and we’ll never meet again.”
She rushed out.
Ji Yanqing couldn’t let her go. If he didn’t clear this up, she’d resent him forever.
Reaching to stop her, his hand landed on her ample, lively curves, fingers sliding down, yanking her gown’s neckline, exposing creamy, sculpted shoulders.
“Ah—!” A shamed cry echoed through the Buddhist hall.
Panicked, Ji Yanqing covered her mouth. Noble families were messy enough; if maids overheard, who knew what they’d imagine.
“Auntie Xie, calm down and hear me out, please?” he urged.
“You still call me your aunt?!” Xie Lingwan snapped. After seeing the contract, her heart was ashes, refusing to believe a word, struggling wildly.
With no choice, Ji Yanqing pinned her waist with one arm, seized her hand with the other, and pressed the alluring beauty to the cold floor. Straddling her hips, he twisted her arms behind her, locking her immobile.
Since his aptitude and insight surged, Ji Yanqing resumed martial training abandoned for years. His foundation, once riddled with holes, wasn’t solid but no longer frail.
Over two months, his cultivation stabilized at Gathering Spirit Realm’s peak, mastering a high-grade Mysterious-tier fist art and a near-Earth-tier sword technique.
Such freakish progress would have the original protagonist reporting him for cheating with Windbell Moonshadow.
He hadn’t slacked on Soul-Condensing Nether Art, but the gap between Source Dao-tier’s second and third layers was a chasm. Even with boosted insight, he couldn’t grasp its essence quickly.
If the late Soul-Devouring Demon Sect leader knew Ji Yanqing’s thoughts, he’d split him in two physically.
His realm’s gains bolstered his physical strength. Ji Yanqing was no longer the powerless wastrel.
In the refined Buddhist hall, the sensual beauty in a deep blue gown was roughly pinned, like a pitiful aunt defiled by her nephew, silently enduring the beastly onslaught with tears.
“Villain, what are you doing?!” Xie Lingwan struggled, her voice trembling, her fox-like eyes feigning ferocity, masking burning love and desire.
She knew the more she resisted, the more men were aroused.
Consummation was her only hope to turn the tables.
“Auntie Xie, don’t be rash!” Ji Yanqing pleaded.
“Should I submit to you, you beast?!” she retorted.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said, near tears. Their position screamed that, making explanations futile.
[At this point, why not lean into the mistake? As they say, couples fight at the bed’s head and reconcile at its end. With your vast experience, you’ll conquer this widow’s heart and body. The Buddha here won’t mind…]
‘Goddamn Buddha won’t mind?! What are you blabbering, scummy narrator?!’
Ji Yanqing had no time to retort. As Xie’s struggles intensified, a button on her neckline—somehow undone—revealed a pink embroidered undergarment with peony patterns.
Her pale, slender legs kicked, dislodging a red boot, her sheer white sock slipping, revealing an arched foot like a crescent moon, with pearl-like toes faintly visible.
Seeing no reaction, Xie Lingwan bit her lip, steeled herself, and let out a sultry, seductive moan, her flushed face irresistible.
Tempted to the breaking point, Ji Yanqing pulled his hairpin, pressing it to his neck. “Auntie Xie, move again, and I’ll die before you.”
Her “fierce” struggles ceased. Her fox-like eyes studied him oddly, tinged with disappointment but mostly doubting her own allure.
‘Does Yanqing prefer passivity?’ she wondered.
Gazing at the tearful beauty, Ji Yanqing knew reasoning with an upset woman was pointless. She didn’t care about logic—only whether you loved her.
The Heir leaned down, meeting her fox-like gaze, and forcibly kissed her cherry lips.
Their lips met.
Fragrant as orchids, warm as honey…