Yan Zhen had always considered himself merely the protagonist in a scripted play.
He had received a script from System-chan and was performing the corresponding story on the stage known as the Mystic Heaven Continent.
Everyone else was an “actor,” cooperating in the unfolding of this tale, but only Yan Zhen knew his true role.
Only after the script wrapped production—once the world stabilized—could he shed that role and reclaim his own life, starting anew.
But why did he retain memories from his childhood? He recalled that the script from System-chan contained no such “side story.”
No, those childhood memories had to be from Earth.
“Cousin~~~”
Seeing Yan Zhen frozen in place, Yan Meng’er assumed he was having second thoughts. She called out to him in a coquettish whine, her eyes shimmering with affection as she gazed at him.
Yan Zhen blinked and walked over. He kicked off his shoes, climbed into bed, and lay down beside Yan Meng’er.
The moment he settled in, a soft, warm, and supple body pressed against him from the side. With a slight roll, she climbed atop him. Her slender arms hooked around his neck, and her 36D chest—which clashed delightfully with her cute, youthful face—squashed against his torso, flattening into an irresistible pancake that offered the ultimate massage.
Yan Meng’er was petite enough that her weight atop him felt anything but burdensome. Instead, it was like embracing a fragrant, plush pillow.
Yet the vivid sensation of her bare skin made one thing clear: she wasn’t wearing a nightgown!
—This foolish girl, sleeping naked in the dead of winter!?
“Cousin, is Meng’er’s body nice and toasty?”
Yan Meng’er’s voice dripped with sweetness and a playful lilt—the same tone she had always used with Yan Zhen, save for those three lost years.
Their bond as clan cousins was distant enough by blood that Yan Meng’er had harbored feelings for him since childhood. And as Yan Zhen matured into an ever more exceptional young man, her affection only deepened.
They had been too young back then. When Yan Zhen plummeted from grace, she buckled under the torrent of gossip and dared not draw near him. That mistake haunted her with regret.
Fortunately, the heavens had granted her a second chance at life.
Yan Meng’er gazed at Yan Zhen’s face with eyes brimming with love and giggled.
“It’s a little concubine’s sacred duty to warm her man’s bed~”
Yan Zhen studied his cousin’s adorable face, so tantalizingly close, and felt a pang of tenderness stir within him. But knowing how she could seize an inch and take a mile, he kept his expression neutral.
Her unique fragrance enveloped him—fresh as green tea, laced with the subtle richness of black tea. It mirrored her habit of concealing little schemes to delight the one she adored.
“I cultivate Fire Mystic Power myself. Where’s the need for a bed warmer?”
“That’s not the same at all! Meng’er’s bed is warm and smells divine, plus it comes with a deluxe ‘Meng’er Body Pillow’ for Cousin to cuddle and ravish whenever he likes—to melt away the day’s tensions. That way, Cousin can drift off to the sweetest sleep~”
“‘Meng’er Body Pillow’ meaning you?”
“Mm-hmm~”
“You’re a tad heavy, you know.”
“Cousin, you’re awful~ Meng’er isn’t heavy at all!”
Bathed in Yan Zhen’s warm breath, the affection in Yan Meng’er’s eyes melted into raw desire. She wheedled playfully.
“Cousin, hold Meng’er tight~”
Yan Zhen wrapped his arms around her, his hands settling on Meng’er’s back as he stroked her silken skin.
The sensation was exquisite, like caressing the finest silk—utterly addictive.
His hands ventured lower, where her pert buttocks offered a softness entirely distinct from her breasts.
“Mm~”
Yan Meng’er issued a soft moan, her cheeks blazing crimson. She dipped her head and claimed Yan Zhen’s lips with initiative.
Yan Zhen responded gradually, their kiss deepening.
They parted only when breath grew ragged.
Yan Meng’er lifted her gaze, her eyes hazy with lust as they locked onto his.
“Cousin…”
Yan Zhen took the cue. He flipped them over, pinning her beneath him. With her assistance, he shed his clothes, and then launched his advance.
Absent her older cousin to share the load, Yan Meng’er found Yan Zhen’s fervor overwhelming. Pleas of mercy spilled from her lips amid gasps. Before long, her tongue lolled, her eyes glazed over. A single climax nearly blacked her out, leaving her limbs limp and unresponsive.
She adored Yan Zhen too fiercely; his touch always commandeered her body, leaving her unable to endure for long.
Unwilling to end it there, Yan Meng’er gritted her teeth, rolled onto her stomach, and arched her hips high, beckoning the next round.
This time, she deployed the Bedroom Secret Technique she had studied, coaxing Yan Zhen to fill her to the brim.
Yan Meng’er slipped into a brief, blissful faint. When she roused, exhaustion pinned her in place—not even a finger stirred. She lay there, lazy as a silkworm pupa.
Yet she summoned the will to wriggle closer, nestling into Yan Zhen’s embrace before surrendering to sleep.
The next morning, Yan Zhen stepped out of his cousin’s room and nearly collided with Mentor Yu Xuan from the neighboring door.
Clutching a bundle of bedsheets, Mentor Yu Xuan hurried off without a greeting upon spotting him. She made a beeline for the bathroom, her cheeks tinged pink.
Yan Zhen blinked, his mind flooding with steamy possibilities.
—No way, no way. Mentor Yu Xuan isn’t the pervy type… right?
He recalled how she tirelessly dotted his body with hickeys, lavishing nearly every inch of his skin with her lips. His opinion shifted.
—Actually, Mentor Yu Xuan seems exactly the pervy type. You just can’t tell from looking at her~
After breakfast, Yan Zhen ventured into the Fire Refining Starry Sky to resume his cultivation.
His Extreme Flame Sword Embryo was freshly formed and demanded a thousand hammerings to metamorphose into a true Lifebound Sword.
Nor could he slack on his Pill Refining Technique.
The following evening, fresh from the bathroom, Yan Zhen bypassed his own room and headed for Yan Ruyu’s instead.
To his chagrin, Mi Xue’er—clad in a nightgown—approached before he could knock. Her gaze held a peculiar glint as she eyed him.
“Little Brother Yan Zhen, are you… sleeping over in Ruyu’s room tonight?”
Yan Zhen’s cheeks burned as he nodded.
“I promised them—one night each.”
“I see.” A shadow of melancholy crossed Mi Xue’er’s face, though envy laced her tone. “Must be nice.”
“Uh… yeah.”
“Then I’ll leave you two be. Go on in.”
“Good night, Senior Sister Xue’er.”
“You too. Though with Ruyu’s skills, sleep might take a while.”
Mi Xue’er sighed and turned away. After two steps, as Yan Zhen lifted his hand to knock, she wheeled back around, marched up to him, and declared with spirited defiance:
“I’m not giving up!”
Before he could react, she lunged forward and kissed him fiercely, her lips smacking against his. She pulled away swiftly and bolted back to her room, faster than she’d arrived.
Yan Zhen distinctly noted the blush creeping to her earlobes.
“…”
The door creaked open. Yan Ruyu poked her head out, spotted him, and tensed at once.
“Y-Yan Zhen! You’re here. W-Welcome. Come in.”
