Yan Zhen froze for a moment. He turned to look at the steaming hot pool ahead and noticed what seemed like a head poking out from the edge by the shore—a head with pink dragon horns. Who else could it be but Long Ying?
She struck a pose as if she’d been soaking for ages. Spotting Yan Zhen, she greeted him enthusiastically.
“Yan Zhen Zhen, you’re here! Let’s wash up together. I’m great at scrubbing backs!”
Yan Zhen was at a total loss for words. This girl—was this how she was using the Space Talent awakened from the Nirvana Fruit?
He turned to leave, but a tremendous force yanked him straight into the pool.
Splash!
Water sprayed everywhere.
Steam rose from the hot pool where Yan Zhen sat primly in the center, dutifully accepting Long Ying’s back-scrubbing service.
It was less “scrubbing” and more aimless groping, like some lecherous old rogue copping a feel. Yet Long Ying thought she was doing splendidly, her pretty face beaming as she asked:
“Yan Zhen Zhen, is this one’s back-scrubbing comfortable?”
Yan Zhen ignored her; it was utterly mediocre. But her hands were soft and smooth, and being fondled like this turned discomfort into pleasure.
Undeterred, Long Ying pressed.
“Yan Zhen Zhen, is it comfortable?”
With great reluctance, Yan Zhen muttered:
“It’s all right.”
“You’re lying.” Long Ying was no longer the naive little fool she’d once been. “If it’s not comfortable, just say so. This one can try another method to scrub Yan Zhen Zhen’s back.”
Yan Zhen sensed a trap.
“No need. This is fine.”
“It’s not fine. This one wants to serve Yan Zhen Zhen until he’s utterly relaxed, to be a proper bride~”
With that, Long Ying wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her full body against his back and rubbing up and down.
It felt like two wobbling slime blobs squishing against him.
Yan Zhen felt a surge of respect inwardly, though the sensation was profoundly odd.
“Where’d you learn that?”
Long Ying’s cheeks flushed pink, her tone proud.
“This one knows a thing or two, hee~ Don’t underestimate this one, Yan Zhen Zhen.”
“Who taught you?”
“This one won’t tell Yan Zhen Zhen, ha~”
Long Ying devoted herself earnestly to pleasing her beloved. Though innocent and clueless, she found this skin-to-skin intimacy blissful beyond words.
As her breasts squirmed against him, her body grew warmer. She wanted to stay pressed close to Yan Zhen Zhen forever, her mouth parched with longing for a kiss. But in this position, she couldn’t reach his lips, so she dipped her head and kissed the nape of his neck.
Utterly technique-less, Long Ying simply followed her heart. Her soft lips captured the skin of his neck, licking away the water droplets as if to quench her thirst that way.
“Stop fooling around.” Yan Zhen shifted uncomfortably, the spot tingling with itch and numbness. “Once you’re done scrubbing, let go.”
Long Ying snapped back and returned to her earlier question.
“Yan Zhen Zhen, is it comfortable now?”
Yan Zhen wanted to say no, but that would only prolong her efforts with promises to “keep trying until it is.” So he relented.
“It’s comfortable. Very comfortable. So let go already.”
“If it’s comfortable, then this one will keep going!”
“…”
—Three-dimensional mobile defense.
Yan Zhen felt helpless. Moments later, Long Ying’s coquettish voice piped up again.
“Yan Zhen Zhen, this one wants a kiss. All right?”
Yan Zhen ignored her. Long Ying took it as assent.
“Yan Zhen Zhen’s silence means he permits it.”
Yan Zhen coughed twice and put on a stern face.
“Know when to quit.”
Long Ying wouldn’t have it. Her emerald slit-pupils blazed with fervent desire.
“This one wants a kiss~”
“Little kids don’t get to do naughty things.”
“This one isn’t a little kid. This one is Yan Zhen Zhen’s bride.”
Long Ying stood firm. She rose and circled to face him, proudly displaying her exquisite figure.
Cherry-pink tresses, scarlet-feathered dragon horns, emerald eyes, pointed ears like Cai Lian’s—her face still held a trace of youthful innocence, but she was undeniably a peerless beauty.
Tall and lithe like Cai Lian, though lacking the latter’s sinuous serpent waist, her body was more athletically sculpted, her limbs perfectly proportioned with an understated power.
The generous swells at her chest could rival a disrobed Xian’er’s E-cups, yet without that top-heavy burden—perfectly sized. Below her taut abdomen lay pristine smoothness, proclaiming her maiden purity.
Yan Zhen froze, realizing once again that Long Ying was no longer the little girl who clung to him, drooling with adoration. She had blossomed into a full-grown young woman, her poise and beauty rivaling any of his other confidantes.
Long Ying’s face flushed crimson, and she stammered shyly, “Yan Zhen Zhen, d-do I look good?”
Yan Zhen snapped back to his senses, struggling to steady both himself and Second Master. “Ahem, you do look good—but don’t put too much stock in it.”
Joy surged through Long Ying’s heart at his admission. With a gleeful cry, she lunged straight into his arms.
“I like Yan Zhen Zhen the most!”
Splash.
Water erupted around them in a chaotic spray.
By the time the surface settled, Long Ying was perched squarely in Yan Zhen’s lap. Her toned legs clamped around his waist, her arms looped around his neck. They pressed together intimately, her emerald eyes locking with his fiery gaze from mere inches away.
An inexplicable tension gripped Yan Zhen. “Long Ying… steady yourself.”
A flicker of allure kindled in Long Ying’s eyes. Ignoring him, she slowly lowered her head.
Their lips met. Yan Zhen’s heart jolted.
She had really kissed him.
She had stolen a kiss once before, but this time felt utterly earnest. Her movements remained clumsy, yet her resolve pulsed clearly through the tentative press of lips and tongue.
She wanted him to feel the depth of her affection—to accept it fully, not as a comrade or a little sister, but as a true partner.
When the kiss finally broke, Long Ying’s gaze had turned hazy with desire, her passion brimming over. She licked her lips and purred, “Yan Zhen Zhen tastes sooo good~~~”
Yan Zhen felt his restraint fraying. Who had taught her such things? Cai Lian? Zi Ji? Or the Demoness?
“I want more Yan Zhen Zhen.”
She dove in for another kiss, her body writhing restlessly against him—pure instinct taking hold.
Afterward, she melted against him like warm dough, her eyes half-lidded as she nuzzled his shoulder with her cheek. Uncertain what came next, she murmured, “I want to be Yan Zhen Zhen’s bride too, okay?”
Yan Zhen drew shallow breaths. One arm cradled the jade-like beauty in his lap while the other gently stroked her head, his eyes brimming with tenderness. “If we go further, there’ll be no turning back.”
Long Ying lifted her face stubbornly. “I won’t regret it. I want to be Yan Zhen Zhen’s bride.”
Yan Zhen fell silent. He held her close, fingers trailing tenderly through her silken hair and along the smooth curve of her back. Memories flooded his mind—their shared moments from his previous life to this one.
To him, Long Ying had long been family, their bond as intimate as it could be without that final step into true union.
“Long Ying…” he murmured at last. “Let’s go back to the room.”
Her breath caught. Tears glistened in her eyes as she nodded fervently. “Carry me back, Yan Zhen Zhen~”
Yan Zhen rose with her in his arms. Hot water cascaded from their bodies, evaporating instantly under the influence of mystic power.
He carried her to the bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. She reached for him impatiently.
“Yan Zhen Zhen~~~”
Towering over her, he smiled softly. “Be good. Leave everything to me.”
At last, the two became one.
Night had fallen deep. The moonlight slipped shyly behind the clouds.
In the rear palace, the Jade Dragon Consort gazed at the pink scale cradled in her palm, watching as red slowly bloomed across its surface. She let out a soft sigh.
“That child has finally grown up.”
