Chapter 183: The Message

Yaoying felt her entire body burning. Tanmoluojia’s response was far more intense than she had imagined. His suppressed, heavy, and irregular breathing filled her ears, while his faint scent filled her nostrils. His entire body was firm and incredibly hot, shoulders tense and hard, sweat rolling down his bare back as he trembled.

The temperature rose, and the tent suddenly became stifling. The flickering candlelight cast a hazy amber glow over their tightly embraced forms.

It was hot.

Every part of Tanmoluojia was burning.

His breath against Yaoying’s ear and neck was intimate and scorching.

His powerful arms holding her were firm and blazing.

The surrounding air seemed to be burning too, hot and thin, making it hard to breathe.

Yaoying, relying on her worldly knowledge, though inexperienced, had at least heard much about such matters. Tanmoluojia, being a monk in pure cultivation, only half-understood these things. She had initially planned to tease him but gradually found herself unable to joke, her body growing weak, fine sweat appearing on her face, her hands trembling.

When she instinctively withdrew, Tanmoluojia unconsciously let out a strained low moan, immediately leaning toward her, his sweat-soaked forehead pressing against her neck, his burning breath brushing her earlobe, their breaths mingling.

“Mingyuenu…”

A whisper full of pain, urgency, and restraint escaped from those lips that usually chanted scriptures so devoutly. The veins in his neck stood out, his breath domineering and sharp, his blood surging like an unbridled wild horse as he trembled against her, his arms tightening further.

Yaoying opened her eyes, secretly glancing at him.

Tanmoluojia held her, his normally emotionless and undisturbed eyes now tinged with desire, red and unfocused, showing control and struggle. His face was wet, soaked with sweat, his features becoming even more sharply defined. His masculine presence merged with the cool, deep water fragrance, stirring her heartstrings.

…

Under his gaze, a tingling sensation rose from the depths of her heart. Yaoying trembled, her face completely flushed, no longer able to think of teasing him, and closed her eyes.

Tanmoluojia’s body shuddered as he stared unblinkingly at her proximity.

She leaned against his bare shoulder, not daring to look up. Her hair ribbon had come loose, her black hair disheveled in his embrace. Their eyes tightly shut, their cheeks flushed like peach blossoms, several sweat-dampened strands of hair clung to her face, her moist lips pressed firmly together, not daring to make even the slightest sound.

In the Three Lives Pool, a lotus flower first bloomed, swaying gently, appearing unable to bear its beauty.

The flower was alluring, full.

He gazed at the enchanting petals, evil thoughts overflowing, continuously sinking.

From love comes worry, from worry comes fear; if separated from love, what worries, what fear?

He could not separate himself.

Since he could not separate, he would acknowledge his desire, wanting to become one with her, wanting to seek from her the purest bliss in this world.

…

Yaoying’s mind was in chaos, everything she had read in Princess Manda’s books completely forgotten. In her dazed consciousness, she heard a deep, hoarse groan.

She remained motionless, completely stunned.

Tanmoluojia trembled several times, his arms tightening around her, burying his face in her rich, luxuriant hair, his breath hot and humid.

After quite a while, his breathing finally steadied. His arms loosened slightly as he caught his breath, placing light kisses along her neck and temples, his brows tightly knitted.

Yaoying’s heart pounded wildly. With a swift movement, she lay down facing away from him, pulling the brocade quilt over herself, covering even her face without leaving her eyes exposed, curling into a ball with her eyes tightly shut.

Reading about it in books was one thing, experiencing it personally was another matter entirely.

Her whole body burned; she felt like a lamb on a roasting spit, about to smoke.

Tanmoluojia, recovering from his passionate state, stared at his empty embrace, stunned for a moment.

Yaoying lay rigid, not daring to move, even her breathing kept deliberately quiet. The candlelight in the room flickered without a sound.

Soon, a pair of large hands reached under the quilt, gripping her shoulders, turning her whole body to face him.

Yaoying’s gaze darted around as if nailed to the velvet rug, refusing to look up.

“I’m sorry.”

A hoarse whisper came from above her head.

Yaoying paused for a moment, then raised her eyes.

Tanmoluojia sat before her, desire not yet faded from his face, the corners of his eyes slightly red, his bare body covered in sweat, gleaming honey-colored in the candlelight, his eyes dark, expression guilty.

When she had wanted to stop touching him earlier, he, unable to control himself, had forced her to continue.

Yaoying stared blankly at Tanmoluojia, her lips slowly curving upward. She sat up, wrapped in the brocade quilt, and said softly, “I’m not angry.”

She had just needed a moment to process everything.

Tanmoluojia remained silent, his reddened eyes fixed on her delicate hands.

Yaoying instinctively hid her hands under the quilt, straightened up, and pressed a soft kiss to Tanmoluojia’s face.

“I am not angry…” Her face slightly flushed, her bright eyes dancing with laughter, her voice gentle. “You are my beloved, I like being close to you.”

A wave of heat coursed through Tanmoluojia’s body. He closed his eyes for a moment, reached under the quilt to catch Yaoying’s hidden hands, took a clean cloth, moved the copper basin closer, and began cleaning her fingers.

Yaoying’s face burned; now she couldn’t even think of teasing him.

After washing her hands, she prepared to lie down to sleep, when suddenly her palm grew warm.

Yaoying’s heart fluttered.

Tanmoluojia held her hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing her palm, fingertips, each finger one by one, his eyelashes trembling, his expression devout.

After kissing her entire hand, his gaze fell to her wrist.

Her wrist was bare.

Tanmoluojia’s brows furrowed slightly. He rolled up Yaoying’s sleeve, his fingers sliding against her skin, finding the string of prayer beads he had given her, which she had always hidden beneath her clothes. He removed them and replaced them on her wrist, slowly winding them around one circle at a time, as if performing a solemn ritual.

Yaoying watched him without speaking.

The moon-white prayer beads encircled her wrist, each bead lustrous, making her fair wrist appear even more like snow and ice.

After securing the prayer beads, Tanmoluojia kissed her fingers and looked up: “Wear them like this from now on, don’t hide them anymore.”

Yaoying’s mind exploded with emotion, her heart so full of tender feelings it seemed about to overflow. She hooked her arms around Tanmoluojia’s neck, pulling him down to kiss his forehead.

Tanmoluojia’s breath deepened slightly, then he suddenly released her, helped her lie down, and covered her with the brocade quilt.

Yaoying started, her gaze sweeping over his lower body, her eyes widening in surprise.

He seemed to be aroused again.

She reached out her hand.

Tanmoluojia’s breath caught, and he quickly grabbed her restless hand. His face remained composed, though his breathing was somewhat irregular: “It’s late, we should sleep.”

As he spoke, he put on his undergarment and lay down beside Yaoying, closing his eyes.

Yaoying’s eyes made a circle as she turned over, her hand just emerging from the quilt when Tanmoluojia’s hand reached out to grasp it.

“I’m better now…” He dared not look at her smiling eyes, keeping his own closed as he recited scriptures, then sighed, his voice deep and dark, “Be good, sleep now.”

Earlier he had nearly lost control; if it happened again, he would take her right here tonight, and she wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Yaoying heard the exhaustion in his voice and stopped teasing him. She placed her hand on his arm and closed her eyes to sleep.