Chapter 51: The Seductive and Shadowy State Preceptor

In the quiet room, the sound of breathing gradually grew heavier.

The dim light cast faint shadows within, and Lu Yihuan’s eyelashes brushed against the silk ribbon covering her eyes as she tilted her head back, stretching her neck.

Jiang Li’s questions came at her one after another, the voice whispering in her ear utterly different from the one she knew so well.

Lu Yihuan could not see the face before her, nor was the voice one she recognized.

Only the lingering fragrance filling her nostrils and the soft body pressing close felt utterly real.

She knew exactly who this person was, yet with her sight stolen and an unfamiliar voice teasing her ears, absurd illusions flickered through her chaotic thoughts.

Was the one entwined with her now truly Jiang Li?

Her mind was a fog of confusion, her thoughts shrouded in thick mist.

The soothing motions continued across her body, and Lu Yihuan reached out, her hand just managing to rest on Jiang Li’s shoulder. She could not see the pleased smile curving the other woman’s lips—a smile utterly at odds with the innocent tone of her questions.

Her throat tight, Lu Yihuan exhaled the building waves of pleasure again and again before murmuring in a low voice.

“I like… Jiang Li.”

She liked Jiang Li.

The smile deepened at the corners of Jiang Li’s mouth. She leaned in closer to Lu Yihuan, her fingertips pinching just a little harder. She wanted to hear it again. “Who do you like?”

“I like Jiang Li.” The words came firm and unwavering.

The confession rang softly in her ear, yet it detonated like thunder in her heart. The rush of delight was just like the first time Jiang Li had witnessed a nebula exploding with her own eyes.

Nebulae bloomed and danced across the sky in a riot of colors, each one drifting with its own unique shape, all as breathtakingly beautiful as those in her picture books.

That initial wonder had felt like glimpsing the most marvelous sight in the world.

And now it was the same.

“Is that so…”

Jiang Li deliberately amplified her motions, enough to make Lu Yihuan’s steadying breaths falter once more. Lu Yihuan clutched at Jiang Li’s hair and let out a soft moan.

Her inherent confidence bolstered further by the other woman’s words, Jiang Li’s mischievous impulses bubbled over naturally.

She wanted to tease Lu Yihuan a little more.

Lu Yihuan’s breath hitched as the plum blossom blooming on her chest was pinched deliberately by those fingers, only for the touch to pause.

Amid her stifled groan, a familiar voice sounded in her ear—the true timbre of Jiang Li.

Yet the words twisted into a new role.

“But Lord, the one easing your pain right now… is Li Ji.”

The name Li Ji fell from her lips, spoken in Jiang Li’s voice. The deliberate suppression and stirring of her torment stretched Lu Yihuan’s taut nerves even tighter.

In the end, it was Jiang Li.

It could only be Jiang Li.

Her disordered thoughts left her writhing, too lost to form a proper reply. She could only grind against her with labored effort.

When Lu Yihuan offered no response, Jiang Li seemed to seize upon it, whispering insistently into her ear over and over.

“You say you like Jiang Li… but the hands on your body now belong to Li Ji.”

Jiang Li’s fingers slid sideways, her slender, pale knuckles speaking of a life of pampered delicacy.

Her fingertips stayed dutifully in place, yet the pleasure they sparked radiated outward in a dense wave.

Like electricity conducting through her veins.

Caught up in Jiang Li’s sudden fervor, Lu Yihuan felt her own desires ignite into a raging blaze; the initial spark had long vanished.

The whispers continued in her ear.

“And you feel it so intensely now, don’t you? Look at these two perky little peaches.”

Lu Yihuan could not see them. Her palm merely tightened slowly on Jiang Li’s shoulder.

As her shoulder was pinched, Jiang Li glanced up. Only then did she seem to recall the silk blindfold over Lu Yihuan’s eyes—she could not see.

A gentle touch stroked over the ribbon across her eyelids, caressing them left and right, as if utterly enchanted by those eyes, cherishing them all the more.

Jiang Li could feel the trembling beneath her hand. Those eyes hidden behind the silk must have shimmered with tears.

Finally, Jiang Li withdrew her hand and smiled. “No worries. I’ll show you.”

Still, she decided to leave the silk ribbon in place over Lu Yihuan’s eyes.

Without gazing into those eyes, Jiang Li felt she could maintain more control.

Considering Lu Yihuan’s injuries, she truly feared that one look into that gaze would make her lose all restraint.

Lu Yihuan’s mouth was temptation enough.

“Actually, I think the peaches aren’t ripe yet.”

Jiang Li sounded like a diligent tutor lecturing her student, full of confidence as she described the sights before her own eyes—like a well-studied textbook.

The peaches were only faintly pink, their firmness barely increased. They still carried that tender immaturity of the unfertilized, yet to fully grow.

Having seen them in their mature glory, Jiang Li knew these were merely at the budding stage.

When ripe, they would swell plump and full, their vibrant red hue so enticing that a single suck might draw forth all their sweet nectar.

High on the branch, they demanded effort to pluck.

Though Jiang Li knew she could not truly drink their gathered sweetness, she loved having them displayed before her.

The more she looked, the more she felt these budding peaches were developing too slowly.

Yet their owner possessed vast estates yet unexplored. Starting from these small saplings felt just right to Jiang Li.

“So let’s ripen them.”

Eager with anticipation, she prepared to tend to the young peaches.

As her fingertips first pressed and pinched, the idiom “pulling up seedlings to help them grow” sprang to mind—ill-timed but intriguing. Ever the eager scholar, Jiang Li resolved to test it properly on Lu Yihuan.

She wondered if the results would prove as disastrous as the adage warned.

Her fingertips pinched gently, sinking into the soft flesh before lifting it high on their tips.

It did not grow at once. Instead, a somewhat pained moan sounded first in Jiang Li’s ear.

“Jiang Li…”

A touch embarrassed, she lowered and pressed it back into place, soothing it with the pad of her thumb in slow circles, hoping to ease Lu Yihuan’s discomfort.

One must study with care, after all.

Lu Yihuan let out a soft gasp, her brows furrowing lightly. She reached to remove the silk ribbon from her face, yearning to see Jiang Li. “I want to see you.”

Jiang Li refused. “No, I might not be able to hold back.”

Her tone was utterly firm. A fleeting thought was all it took for Lu Yihuan to understand the turmoil in her heart, and the smile curving her lips was clear enough for Jiang Li to see.

Evidently, her Highness was quite fond of her.

She was not the only one reacting to every gesture; Jiang Li fretted over losing herself entirely to this woman, mind and body.

But…

Lu Yihuan leaned forward, her hand sliding slowly from the shoulder to caress Jiang Li’s cheek by feel alone. A soft chuckle escaped her throat.

Though the blindfold remained firmly in place, Jiang Li watched those lips slowly curve into a smile, and her ear tips flushed red. What was so funny!

“Your Highness seems to think highly of yourself.”

The pad of her thumb pressed into Jiang Li’s soft lips, sinking in. Jiang Li lifted her hand and seized that wandering palm in a tight grip.

Even knowing Lu Yihuan could not see, she enunciated each word clearly. “Lord, you underestimate me.”

Each called to the other by their preferred title, yet neither bothered to correct it.

Their gazes lingered on each other’s cheeks in silent understanding as they resumed the initial soothing touches.

Lu Yihuan had long since untied and cast aside her robes. Jiang Li wore only a thin dudou now, its perfect, gentle curves bound by a slender cord at the nape of her neck. She made no move to remove it, leaving it in place as she continued her work.

Sometimes, fully baring oneself stripped away that subtle thread of intimacy between them.

As she began anew, Jiang Li started from the lotus-like arm clutched in her palm.

Her lips pressed and slid along it in soft kisses, like raindrops falling from the heavens—one by one, they splashed upon the skin, leaving trails like the memory of a storm.

The points connected into lines, sending electric tingles across that section of arm. Lu Yihuan leaned back with her eyes closed beneath the blindfold, savoring the delicate press of those lips.

Indulging her preference, Jiang Li lingered long at the tender inner wrist, where faint bruises marked the veins. She left connected teeth marks there, a sight that pleased her.

That was where the blood flowed clearest; the slightest pressure made the veins stand out, and Jiang Li adored drawing them between her lips as if to suck the blood itself.

Her brows quivering, the thin skin of Lu Yihuan’s wrist could not withstand such teasing for long. Soon marks bloomed there, and Jiang Li’s satisfied laugh rang out.

Pleased with this canvas of her own making, Jiang Li trailed kisses up the arm like a dragonfly skimming water—light touches here and there, with plum blossoms stamped in a few choice spots.

Over the shoulder her lips roved until they paused at the side of the neck.

It had prepared itself fully for her.

The neck arched back, exposing its slender vulnerability to the visitor, offering its most beautiful aspect in perfect trust—sure this was what she desired.

And Jiang Li did adore it.

She was no mere admirer of Lu Yihuan’s beauty. She was obsessed with Lu Yihuan herself.

Those glossy black strands of hair, the faintly furrowed brows paired with those watery eyes—they stirred pity in her heart. And then there was the softness begging to be buried in, the gentle trickle of waters between.

She loved Lu Yihuan, pitied her, even embraced her wicked streak.

Of course, Lu Yihuan would indulge her own mischief in turn, wouldn’t she?

“Lord Lu, would you like to change your blindfold?”

Her fingertips trailed downward, lingering to rub delicately between Lu Yihuan’s collarbones. Jiang Li tilted her head with a light laugh and made her proposal.

She was quite taken with the idea herself.

“What?” The voice came out husky.

Darkness still reigned before Lu Yihuan, impenetrable. Removing it would be ideal, but Jiang Li had refused her request moments ago.

Now she offered so generously to replace it.

Jiang Li’s hand glided across her abdomen as she shifted her body closer. Lu Yihuan’s breath caught, her earlobe pinched between fingers as hot breath ghosted over her skin.

One hand claimed the earlobe while the other cradled her lean face with exquisite care, lifting it. Jiang Li rested her chin on Lu Yihuan’s shoulder and nuzzled playfully, coquettish as could be.

The humid warmth drew near, and her suggestion whispered into Lu Yihuan’s ear.

“Would Lord care to remove my dudou with your own hands?”

“Then use it to cover your eyes.”

Laced with the scent of milk, a woman’s faint fragrance from her beloved’s most private garment—intimate and hidden from the world.

Lu Yihuan would take it off herself, then have the light stolen away by it personally. From that moment, every breath she drew would carry Jiang Li’s scent.

Lu Yihuan’s heart stirred.