The Lustful Young Master starting with Holy Maiden.-Chapter 39: The Burning Shame that births the pureness of days vermillion Dove.
Chapter 39: The Burning Shame that births the pureness of days vermillion Dove.
Within the sect,
The soft afternoon light seeped through the halls of Supreme Holy Peak, casting fragmented patterns upon the polished grounds.
Ling’er, with a cheerful expression, approached the Holy Envoy’s residence.
Her footsteps were measured, yet her heart hammered fiercely within her chest, an unrelenting storm cloaked beneath a fragile veil of calm.
A day had passed since she had knelt before Zhao Fan, offering what she once swore never to yield... her mouth, her dignity folded away like a delicate petal crushed beneath an indifferent foot.
The memory burned hot and cold, searing through her skin with every pulse, a paradox of pain and something far darker, a twisted, aching need.
She can’t help but blush recalling the shame but it is what it is, like the moon to star, she is now connected to him, her Yin garden had already taken the shape of his Yang dragon.
Her cheeks still glowed with the shame of that moment, the heat spreading like wildfire beneath her pale skin. Yet, beneath the blush was a sharper edge, a fierce resentment gnawing at the edges of her soul.
How could she hate him so deeply, the man whose touch invaded her most sacred boundaries, yet find herself unable to escape the tangled web of desire he spun?
She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms as her mind raced with fractured thoughts.
She came here once again for the shameful demonic dual cultivation, to balance and maintain the harmony of Yin and Yang.
He is cruel. A tyrant wrapped in silk and shadow. He strips away every shred of pride as easily as one discards autumn leaves.
And yet...
I cannot deny the echo of his voice beneath my skin...
Her breath hitched, and she swallowed hard, hating the chilling feelings that she could not control.
I despise this weakness, this part of me that craves him even as it loathes what he’s done.
Is this the poison of his power? Or the sickness of my own soul?
Ah... It’s not like I am here because I love him, but because I want to grow strong.
Strength is everything.
Her gaze darkened, sharpening with a fierce clarity. The gentle maiden who once knelt with hesitant devotion was unraveling, thread by fragile thread.
Hmm? I smell the scent of a woman...
Is it that shameful maid? Trying to seduce my man?
No, No, No... No one will take him from me.
The memories of that shameful vixen are still in her mind, as she silently and helplessly watched her man, sing the song of love with that vixen.
But she couldn’t do anything... Both the Young Master and his vixen maids are very powerful.
Her heart thudded unevenly, a war drum in the silence, as the first tendrils of obsession curled around her reason like creeping ivy.
Even if the possession took root, she couldn’t do anything, as helpless as a caged bird, hoping to ride the wind of spring breeze.
The fragile balance between love and hate tipped, teetering on a blade’s edge.
She straightened her back, smoothing the folds of her robe as she reached the door.
Despite the noble mannerism, a cruel smile tugged at her lips, wanting to see just who is this new vixen, the feminine scent of this vixen is compete different from that vixen.
The scent is like an autumn wine of southern cherry blossoms.
The door creaked open with reverent silence, like a curtain parting before a celestial play.
Inside, the soft golden light bathed the interior of the Holy Envoy’s residence.
Incense of dragon lotus wafted from a carved jade burner.
On one side of the room, Zhao Fan sat reclined near a lacquered tea table, his sleeves loose, his expression tranquil, as though he had been born from silence itself, and another woman, profound looks, noble mannerism, connected like Dao companion, and breath far stronger than her own sat on Zhao Fan’s lap.
So this is her...
Ling’er’s lashes lowered slightly, her polite smile freezing as her gaze met that of the other woman’s.
Yi Xin Yue’s eyes flickered with the serenity of someone who had already tasted what Ling’er had only begun to long for.
Another one who’s seen his face from beneath...
The scent of her, faintly floral, distinctly feminine, and deeply entwined with Zhao Fan’s qi struck Ling’er like a phantom slap.
Her heart stuttered in her chest, though her footsteps remained as elegant as ever.
She walked in gracefully, like a proper noblewoman, back straight, hair combed with pearl ornaments.
Zhao Fan looked up.
"Oh! Holy Maiden has descended to this Zhao’s quarters..." he said simply, but his gaze brushed over her flushed cheeks, and the corner of his mouth curved.
Ling’er curtsied slightly. "Apologies, Young Master. This one... needed a moment to settle her heart before stepping where her soul trembles..."
Her voice, sweet and modest, carried a ripple beneath the surface and Yi Xin Yue, refined and perceptive, caught it.
Both women glanced at each other, it’s the first time Ling’er had witnessed the grace of Yi Xin Xue but Yi Xin Xue knew about Ling’er.
Maid Yi offered a soft smile, her voice as delicate as plum blossoms in snow.
"Dao Yin Sister Ling’er speaks with such elegance. I have heard of your sincerity. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you..."
Dao Yin Sister?
The word echoed in Ling’er’s mind like a thorn-coated bell, it’s a word that defines the wives of the same husband.
She turned with perfect decorum. "Likewise, It’s a pleasure to meet Jade Fairy’s grace... The tales hardly do any justice, I wonder what Jade fairy has heard about me," Her tone was as sweet as spring tea but her hands beneath her sleeves trembled with quiet tension.
She’s so composed... Is she mocking me?
Obviously, Maid Yi meant no harm, as someone who has seen the tallest mountains and deep seas, it’s better to be all peaceful among the Fellow Dao Yin Sisters.
Her eyes flicked to Zhao Fan unconsciously, searching, but he remained seated, Maid Yi pouring him, the herbal enlightenment tea.
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