Evil Consort slowly exhaled a puff of hot, moist air, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. She looked at Yan Zhen and said, “Go bathe first. Wash yourself clean, and then we’ll talk.”
Yan Zhen blinked in surprise. He sniffed his arms and declared righteously, “I don’t stink at all! Is Evil Consort Master just looking for an excuse to run away? I’m not falling for that!”
Evil Consort eyed him with clear distaste. “Enough nonsense. You’ve sweated buckets and haven’t washed up, yet you dare to sit on this palace’s lap? If you don’t go bathe right now, don’t even think about this palace keeping you company in bed from now on!”
Yan Zhen wilted immediately. Reluctantly, he muttered, “Fine, then. I’ll go bathe and come back all nice and fresh.”
He slid off Evil Consort’s lap, hopped out of bed with practiced speed, slipped on his shoes, and turned back with a grin. “Evil Consort Master has to wait for me, okay? Whoever lies is a little puppy!”
Evil Consort mercilessly turned her face away, refusing to look at him.
Yan Zhen bolted from the room like a shooting star and raced to the Side Hall Bathhouse. In three shakes of a lamb’s tail, he stripped naked and plunged into the steaming pool with a splash. Circulating his mystic power, he let the water scrub him semi-automatically until he was squeaky clean.
He leaped onto the shore, channeled his power to steam the moisture from his skin, and retrieved a pair of black boxer shorts from his storage ring. But the skull pattern on them grated more the longer he looked, so he stowed them away and slipped straight into his pajamas instead.
Yan Zhen: True-Vacuum Pajama Seduction – launch day, instant sellout for six coppers!
Clad in his black pajamas, Yan Zhen dissolved into starlight and streaked away. Moments later, he rematerialized beside the bed in the sleeping chamber.
The room’s lights had extinguished at some point, leaving only a single glowstone shining atop the bedframe. The surrounding gauze curtains softened its glow, turning the massive canopy bed into a perfect square lantern. Within its hazy light sat a graceful silhouette, alluringly indistinct and ripe for imagination.
Yan Zhen swallowed hard and carefully lifted the curtain. There, kneeling in the center of the bed, was a peerless beauty in a black silk lace nightgown, her eyes gleaming faintly.
Eagerly, he kicked off his shoes, clambered onto the bed, and settled primly before Evil Consort. His bright, lively eyes roamed over her shamelessly.
Black hair, black eyes, black robes, black armor—yet her skin was flawlessly snow-white. The stark contrast of black and white only heightened her noble, elegant aura.
Her only splash of color was her lush, dripping lips, a thick, demonic shade of dark crimson—lips that Yan Zhen had just feasted on to his heart’s content.
It wasn’t the noblest thought, but he couldn’t shake the urge to kiss them a few more times.
“Evil Consort Master…”
Evil Consort gazed back at Yan Zhen, convinced she could almost see a tail wagging eagerly behind him—like a dog starving for its dinner.
By the standards of the human race, the Flame Emperor was undoubtedly an adult. Yet his handsome face retained a touch of boyish innocence, his flame-bright eyes sharp and spirited enough to captivate any young miss or matron.
Back when he had journeyed to the Divine Martial Continent to aid them against the First Evil God, a handful of moves had left countless female cultivators swooning. He even shared ambiguous liaisons with the Immortal Sect Sect Master and the Divine Palace Lord. She, an outsider, had barely been able to watch!
—A fickle playboy! From now on, this palace won’t allow you to fall for every pretty face you see! Otherwise…
Evil Consort narrowed her eyes, a razor-sharp glint flashing in them. Yan Zhen shivered inexplicably, a chill crawling down his spine.
“Evil Consort Master?”
Evil Consort reined in her icy aura. After a moment’s hesitation, she shifted from her cross-legged kneel to a proper upright posture.
The motion caused the hem of her black nightgown to slide from her thighs—like clouds parting to reveal the moon—exposing her dazzling white skin to the air in subtle, tantalizing invitation.
Yan Zhen’s face brimmed with anticipation. Evil Consort’s resistance ebbed away bit by bit, her gaze warming as she said, “Lie down, Yan’er.”
Yan Zhen obeyed at once, reclining with his head pillowed on Evil Consort’s thigh. The soft, yielding flesh felt like lounging on clouds, pure bliss.
Gazing upward, his view was dominated by those towering, undulating peaks—a faint pressure that wasn’t unwelcome. If anything, it made him curious to experience a “mountain pressing down on his face.”
He blinked but held his tongue, awaiting her next move.
Evil Consort ran her fingers through Yan Zhen’s short hair, her slender digits weaving into the fluffy strands. She scratched and combed gently, drawing blissful squints from him.
“Yan’er.”
“Hm?”
“This palace asks you—is this palace beautiful?”
“Of course! Evil Consort Master is the most beautiful!”
“And… compared to Chen Xi?”
“Master is the most beautiful!”
Evil Consort’s heart bloomed with delight at his unhesitating reply. She didn’t catch the subtle shift from “Evil Consort Master” to plain “Master.”
—Hear that, Chen Xi? This palace won’t lose to you by even half a point!
Evil Consort drew a deep breath, then carefully tugged loose the sash at her waist. Inch by inch, she parted the nightgown’s collar down to her shoulders. Beneath Yan Zhen’s rapt stare, she slipped it to her elbows, where it pooled in silken layers.
It was as if night had fled before dawn: a crimson sun rising languidly from icy peaks, coming to rest high atop them, bathing the frozen expanse in gentle light. The scene evoked “sunrise over snowy mountains, red sun gilding icy plains”—a vision of breathtaking beauty.
Yan Zhen drank it all in without stirring, the sight stirring a deep sense of familiarity… and faint nostalgia.
Evil Consort quietly circulated her mystic power, transmuting death into life. Streams of Life Mysterious Power surged toward her chest, bringing a subtle swelling.
Unlike the life-devouring Death Mystic Force, Life Mysterious Power could reshape the flesh.
She cradled the back of Yan Zhen’s head in one hand, meeting his eyes with a look of poignant longing. “Yan’er~”
The signal was given.
Yan Zhen snapped to attention and dove in without a second’s pause.
Evil Consort bit her lip, straining to contain the unfamiliar, tingling waves of pleasure. Her jet-black eyes locked on Yan Zhen, absorbing every ounce of his hunger for her.
What did it matter if it was feigned? Right now, it felt utterly real. His gaze held only her—no trace of Chen Xi.
“Y-Yan’er, slower.”
“Mmgh…”
“Good Yan’er… from now on, you have to… listen well… to this palace.”
“Ah woo.”
—This little scoundrel isn’t even hearing a word she says!
Evil Consort fumed inwardly, but she had no room for anger now. Her heart fluttered with electric tingles, her limbs gone limp as if Yan Zhen had drained her strength entirely.
She clamped her lips shut, desperate not to let any undignified sounds escape and undermine her authority as master.
—No good—it’s still too strange. What was that fool Chen Xi thinking? H-how could anyone endure this?
Evil Consort felt utterly duped. Chen Xi had seemed so lost in it, so why was she struggling this much?
A sharp little pang stabbed at her chest. Evil Consort’s eyes flew wide; her back arched like she’d been struck by an arrow. Her thighs clamped together fiercely until the quaking of her fully ripened body subsided, leaving her dazed and adrift.
“This… impossible… this palace… this palace… ah!”
Evil Consort found herself questioning everything.
