The frail weakness was, of course, all an act. Even on the verge of death, a Mystic Saint expert would never be so feeble that she needed someone to support her just to walk a few steps.
The Evil Consort withdrew her cool little hand and glanced at Yan Zhen’s face, full of concern. Her mood lifted slightly. However, the image of him dutifully attending to Chen Xi surfaced in her mind, stirring a faint pang of jealousy in her heart. Thus, she said, “My body feels inexplicably fatigued… Yan’er, go summon a few Yin Servants to massage these shoulders for this palace.”
Yan Zhen immediately picked up on the subtext in the Evil Consort’s words. The Yin Servants were all under her control—a mere flick of her finger would bring them flying over. There was no need for him to call them at all. This was clearly a message meant for her own disciple.
“Evil Consort Master, no need to summon the Yin Servants. Let me massage your shoulders.”
The Evil Consort struck a masterful pose. “Yan’er, you should go back to your cultivation. The Yin Servants will suffice for this palace.”
Yan Zhen kicked off his boots, climbed onto the bed, and sat down behind the Evil Consort. “With Evil Consort Master feeling unwell, how could I, as your disciple, not take proper care of you? I certainly can’t leave.”
With that, he placed both hands on her shoulders and began kneading them—not too lightly, not too heavily.
The Evil Consort narrowed her eyes, fully savoring the service from the Flame Emperor. This could count as a bit of interest paid back. In their previous life, he had tormented her mercilessly!
“Yan’er, put more strength into it. This palace’s shoulders are terribly sore.”
Yan Zhen increased the force, only to discover that any pressure beyond a certain point was absorbed entirely. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was the black velvet gown she wore that was responsible.
The gown on the Evil Consort was naturally no ordinary garment. It emitted no powerful fluctuations, but Yan Zhen estimated that the materials used were no lower than seventh-tier quality.
Even a full-powered strike from a Mystic Ancestor expert might not cause the slightest ripple on it.
“Evil Consort Master, your dress is getting in the way a bit. How about slipping it down just a little?”
The Evil Consort opened her eyes at his words and asked hesitantly, “How much?”
Yan Zhen blinked. “Just enough to bare your shoulders.”
—Ah, just the shoulders. That was acceptable. She could let the Flame Emperor take a small advantage, lest he start clamoring to go find Jiuyou instead.
What the Evil Consort failed to notice was that upon realizing the Flame Emperor merely wanted a little cheap thrill from her, a smug sense of delight overshadowed the shame and anger she ought to have felt.
“Then go ahead and slip it down.”
Yan Zhen murmured his assent and carefully grasped the back collar of her gown. Working with her, he pulled the neckline down to her elbows, exposing her smooth and lustrous shoulders on both sides. Her collarbones were exquisitely sensual, and just below them was a tube top that wrapped around her firm, ample breasts—their size and heft hardly inferior to those of his beautiful master, enough to dominate one’s field of vision.
There was a saying: A woman who can’t see her toes when she looks down is a vision of absolute beauty.
Yan Zhen shouldn’t have looked in the first place, but Yan’er certainly would have, so he sneaked a few glances to avoid arousing the Evil Consort’s suspicions. Only then did he place his hands on her bare shoulders and resume the massage.
Sure enough, detecting Yan Zhen’s wandering gaze, the Evil Consort huffed softly to herself. Smugness welled up within her even as she grew all the more convinced that he hadn’t recovered his memories—it was all her own overthinking.
—This palace’s schemes have been laid for so long. How could a mere Chen Xi unravel them so easily?
With that thought in mind, a wave of fiery, heavy pressure coursed through her shoulders, instantly easing the tension weighing on her heart. A brief, involuntary moan slipped from her throat.
Snapping back to attention, the Evil Consort hurriedly raised a hand to cover her small mouth, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
—This palace was simply careless for a moment, falling prey to this little scoundrel’s wiles.
In order to avoid exposing his true self, Yan Zhen massaged the Evil Consort’s shoulders with great diligence. In less than the time it took to burn a stick of incense, she had relaxed completely.
“Alright, Evil Consort Master. How does it feel now?”
The fiery pressure on her shoulders faded away, leaving the Evil Consort with a lingering sense of reluctance. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “It’s better, a little. However, this palace has been sitting too long—my waist is sore now as well…”
Yan Zhen’s mouth twitched faintly. What are you, some nagging old housewife? Achy here, sore there…
But he couldn’t say that. Instead, he should respond with delight. “Then let me give Evil Consort Master’s back a proper rub next?”
The Evil Consort smiled warmly. “Yan’er showing such rare filial piety—how could this palace refuse?”
“Evil Consort Master, come lie down on the bed.”
“Mm.”
With her neckline still draped at her elbows and her shoes kicked off, the Evil Consort started toward the center of the bed. Suddenly, she felt her current attire was inconvenient, so she circulated her mystic power and changed into a black silk nightgown with intricate hollow patterns.
—She should have changed earlier. Then there would have been no need to slip down the neckline at all.
Such were the Evil Consort’s thoughts, though she felt little regret. Her only concern was whether the Flame Emperor might misinterpret her earlier actions as deliberate seduction.
This little scoundrel was always one to push his luck. She was barely holding him in check as it was—if he thought she was seducing him, wouldn’t his tail shoot straight up to the heavens?
The Evil Consort turned to look at Yan Zhen, who smiled back at her. “Evil Consort Master, lie down quickly. I’ll give you that back rub.”
The Evil Consort straightened her neckline and lay down gracefully on her stomach. Her soft, full breasts compressed beneath her, spilling out to the sides, while her hips rose high. The hem of her nightgown failed to fully cover her plump, supple snow-white legs, and her jade feet—adorned with glossy black toenails—pressed neatly together.
One had to admit, the Evil Consort was perfection incarnate in every physical aspect, save for that arrogant and aloof personality of hers.
Yan Zhen straddled her legs, channeling mystic power into his palms until they glowed faintly with firelight. He pressed them to the small of her back, kneaded for a moment, then slowly worked his way upward.
At first, the Evil Consort showed little reaction, but Yan Zhen’s earnest technique gradually put her at ease. Before long, her body began to respond.
After the time it took to burn a stick of incense, the ruthless and venomous beauty lay limp and boneless, sprawled lazily across the bed like a sated female python.
Yan Zhen was exhausted too, mostly from the effort of restraint. He had to sneak in the occasional grope to stay true to his persona while still holding back from going too far.
Otherwise, if he truly provoked the Evil Consort’s ire, he would be the one left eating his words.
“Alright, Evil Consort Master. Is there anywhere else that feels uncomfortable?”
The Evil Consort rolled onto her back, freeing her flattened bosom. Gazing upward at the flushed and sweating Flame Emperor, she mused that he had worked so hard for her sake. If this were Chen Xi, she would surely reward him right now.
The Evil Consort seized Yan Zhen’s wrist and gave it a gentle tug. He lost his balance and tumbled forward into her embrace, his face plunging into the deep valley of her cleavage.
“This palace feels very comfortable.” The Evil Consort gently stroked Yan Zhen’s head; the soft strands of his hair felt delightful beneath her fingers. “You’ve worked hard, Yan’er. Rest for a bit yourself.”
Nestled in the Evil Consort’s warm, fragrant, and yielding embrace as she petted his head, Yan Zhen couldn’t help feeling a touch constrained. But to avoid giving himself away, he treated her just like his beautiful master—nuzzling against her soft flesh and acting spoiled.
“As long as Evil Consort Master feels good, I’m not tired at all.”
—It felt somehow like betraying his beautiful master. Boo-hoo…
At those words, the Evil Consort narrowed her dark eyes and caressed Yan Zhen’s head even more tenderly. She felt enveloped in some special aura, floating peacefully upon the clouds in serene bliss.
Was this what they called “happiness”?
She rolled over once more, coming to lie facing him on their sides. Her pitch-black eyes reflected his handsome features, warming her heart. Unable to resist, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his.
