Summoning all her willpower, Mi Xue’er suppressed her desire. She tilted her head slightly and pressed her soft, rosy lips gently to his cheek.
Mwah~
Yan Zhen felt his left cheek kissed, the plush lips leaving a faint dampness. There’d definitely be a mark.
Just as he started to open his eyes, a little tongue flicked across his cheek, followed by those wet lips kissing again in intermittent sucks, sliding toward his jawline.
Yan Zhen jerked his eyes open and cupped Mi Xue’er’s face, stopping her.
“Senior Sister Xue’er, w-what’s going on?”
Mi Xue’er’s lips still glistened with moisture. Her face burned as she stammered, “K-Kissing cheeks, duh. That’s how it’s done in books.”
—This is kissing cheeks? That’s practically foreplay! What kind of dirty books have you been reading?!
Yan Zhen was speechless.
“Senior Sister Xue’er, a quick peck on the cheek shows affection. Anything more is private fun between husband and wife.”
“I-Is that so? I didn’t know. I thought kissing cheeks between guys and girls meant covering the whole face~”
Mi Xue’er blinked her sparkling eyes innocently, inwardly relieved.
She admitted she’d gotten ahead of herself, lunging into all these acts with Yan Zhen and losing control, nearly causing disaster.
If Yan Zhen thought she was some loose girl because of it and pulled away, she’d be done for.
—Calm down, Mi Xue’er. You endured over a decade of emptiness in your last life. How can you lose it now?
Mi Xue’er hurriedly let go of Yan Zhen.
“Sorry, Little Brother Yan Zhen. Don’t be mad—I’ll make it up to you, okay?”
“It’s fine. Just a misunderstanding.”
Yan Zhen didn’t mind. Mi Xue’er might act bold day-to-day, but deep down she was pretty conservative. It was normal for her not to know the basics of dating.
“Can we keep practicing?”
Keep going? Yan Zhen frowned. Linking arms, hugging, cheek-kissing—wasn’t that enough? They were just having dinner and staying overnight. Why rehearse so many intimate moves? They weren’t a real couple; it was all pretend.
Seeing her eager expression, Yan Zhen figured Senior Sister Xue’er was just new to guy-girl stuff, finding it all exciting and wanting to try every couple-y thing.
Fine. He’d promised to play boyfriend, so he’d humor her—as long as he stuck to his persona and didn’t waver.
“What else do you want to practice, Senior Sister Xue’er?”
Blushing, Mi Xue’er asked shyly, “Can I sit on your lap and try that?”
—See? She’s using “practice” as an excuse to indulge her curiosity about couple stuff.
Yan Zhen suddenly found her a bit cute. She called herself “senior sister,” but her actions were pure “little sister,” even more spoiled than Meng’er.
“Of course. Go ahead.”
Mi Xue’er perked up with a grin, lightly hopping her pert rear onto Yan Zhen’s lap. Her small hands grabbed his wrists, guiding his arms around her from behind.
Yan Zhen’s heart skipped. Compared to his cousin’s full, moon-like curves—where the soft flesh overflowed between his fingers when gripped—Mi Xue’er’s rear was a bit smaller but bouncier, like top-tier jelly.
His hands slid around her slim waist to rest on her soft tummy, feeling that same plush, springy texture.
It seemed like everywhere else was the same.
Yan Zhen had a realization: Senior Sister Xue’er’s body matched her personality—brimming with energy and vitality, inviting touches just to see her reactions.
After lap-sitting, Mi Xue’er wanted to try a lap pillow too, but by then the carriage had arrived at the Mi Family Mansion, forcing them to stop.
“Don’t be nervous, Little Brother Yan Zhen. Just follow my lead!”
“Don’t worry, Senior Sister.”
When it came to acting, Yan Zhen was the professional. They should have listened to his directions!
After stepping down from the carriage, Yan Zhen held his head high with brimming confidence. He offered his arm, gesturing for Mi Xue’er to link hers through it.
Mi Xue’er paused for a moment before grinning and sidling up to him, clinging more sweetly than an actual pair of lovers deep in the honeymoon phase.
The old butler leading the way ahead narrowed his eyes. Something felt off about the Eldest Miss and her new son-in-law, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Yan Zhen and Mi Xue’er followed the old butler into the dining hall of the main residence. A feast had already been laid out on the table, with Mi Xue’er’s parents and uncles occupying half the seats. Only two spots remained empty for them—a setup that looked every bit like a tribunal interrogation.
Mi Xue’er released Yan Zhen’s arm and called out obediently,
“Daughter greets Father and Mother. Daughter greets the uncles.”
The elders nodded one after another. Only Mi Xue’er’s father, Mi Shan, cut straight to the chase.
“I’m telling you, daughter—this fellow beside you isn’t the boyfriend you picked up at the academy, is he? He looks even younger than you.”
“So what?” Mi Xue’er shot back without missing a beat. “I’m exactly three years older than Little Brother Yan Zhen. There’s an old saying: marry a woman three years your senior, and she’ll bring home a golden brick.”
“Golden bricks aren’t something our family gets to embrace.”
“If you’re just looking to pick a fight, Dad, then we won’t bother with this meal.”
Mi Xue’er stared down her father with a blank expression. Mi Shan hurriedly waved them over to sit and talk things out.
“You’re Yan Zhen, right? From what I know, only the city lord’s household in Martial Tang City bears the Yan surname.”
Yan Zhen nodded.
“To answer the family head, yes, I’m from Martial Tang City. The city lord is my grandfather.”
“I’ve heard the name of General Yan Lie before, but I never imagined you’d be his grandson. What a coincidence.” Mi Shan chuckled. “That said, if you want to become the Mi Family’s son-in-law, the title of young city lord won’t cut it. Which class are you in at Mystic Academy?”
“Advanced Class 1.”
“Oh?” Mi Shan finally took a proper measure of Yan Zhen’s aura, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Sixteen years old, and already a Seven-Star Mystic Practitioner. Impressive, no doubt—but you’re still a step behind that other one.”
“Which one?”
“I’ll be frank. This time, it was the heir from that prince’s house who came knocking first, asking for Xue’er as his consort.” Mi Shan stroked his beard. “That heir’s also at Mystic Academy, nineteen years old, and he’s already a One-Star Mystic Scholar. He’s met the graduation requirements. The moment Holy Land Academy’s airship arrives, he’ll be off to advance his studies there.”
The person Mi Shan referred to was one of Mystic Academy’s three top quasi-graduates: the Mingkong Heir. Word had it he’d caught the eye of a Holy Land Academy envoy last year already. Upon arrival, he could skip the entrance exam and take a spot under their wing directly.
With his talent, background, passable looks, decent personality, and the fact that he’d proposed first—clearly smitten with Mi Xue’er—he was a textbook golden match.
All the Mi Family elders approved heartily. But with Mi Xue’er bringing Yan Zhen home instead, they needed to make this boy see reason and bow out gracefully!
That was the plan, anyway. But Mi Xue’er merely snorted with laughter upon hearing it, her tone dripping with disdain.
Mi Shan frowned.
“Xue’er, what’s so amusing? What’s wrong with the Mingkong Heir?”
Mi Xue’er chuckled.
“You wouldn’t know, Dad, but the Mingkong Heir was in the same cohort as Xiao Mie. He’s always been playing second fiddle to him. He couldn’t even claim the top spot until he broke through to Mystic Scholar.”
“And so what?” Mi Shan countered. “That little monster from the Xiao Family really is a freak—he held back his cultivation for nearly a year and still advanced to One-Star Mystic Scholar smoothly just last month. Trailing behind him doesn’t mean the Mingkong Heir lacks anything.”
