The wind from the courtyard blew through the wooden door, stirring the green gauze curtains. The clear tea in the cup had gone cold, and the dragon princess in his arms had finally stopped struggling.

Her two hands were tightly clenched into fists, pressed against his chest, as if persisting in something. The golden ring had somehow slipped onto her clothes, and several strands of her long hair had become caught between their entangled lips.

Fucang slowly drew back from her a little. Her eyes were covered by his hand, revealing only the lower half of her face. Her full, beautiful lips were slightly parted and moist, breathing finely. Several strands of long hair clung to them, trembling with each breath.

Something was boiling in his blood. Combined with the severe pain of the punishment, it instead made him become direct and bold. He used his finger to brush away those few strands of hair clinging to her lips, then leaned down and licked her moist lips again.

A sound emerged from Xuan Yi’s nostrils—extremely slight yet extremely soft—and she suddenly flushed completely red, turning her head to dodge. His lips fell on her burning cheeks. The skin he touched was as delicate as flower petals. Unable to control himself for a moment, he kissed her face lightly here and there. The hand covering her eyes instinctively slid down, fingertips caressing her slender neck.

The dragon princess in his arms began to struggle violently again, the fists pressed against his chest pushing and pounding him with all her might.

Fucang slowly released her, letting her kick him countless times. The result was that she kicked too hard and instead fell backward herself. Several books were knocked down from the bookshelf, all falling on her.

She was truly rarely this disheveled. Her water-green lotus garment was full of wrinkles, the draped sash had fallen to the ground and tangled with her loosened long hair. Fucang bent down to help her up, but she began pushing hard again, her voice slightly hoarse, actually sounding somewhat fragile: “Don’t touch me!”

She curled up into a ball beneath the bookshelf, quickly combing through her long hair with her five fingers, reinserting the golden ring, palms pressing hard to smooth the wrinkles in her clothes. The enchanted flush that had been on her face moments ago seemed to dissipate in an instant, becoming pale and cold again.

Xuan Yi finished tidying her clothes and suddenly rose to walk outside.

Fucang had anticipated all her reactions—pouncing forward to beat him, sharp mockery, even screaming assault to summon the divine officials. He hadn’t expected that she would leave without a single word.

Just leave like this? Come when she wanted to come, leave when she wanted to leave, entangle when she wanted to entangle, turn hostile when she wanted to turn hostile. She was always so willful and arbitrary with him, full of contempt.

Fucang’s hand shot out like lightning, grabbing her arm. Without courtesy, she struck back with her other hand, kicking and scratching, all elegant image gone. He still didn’t move, letting her hit him many times. The result was that probably because the floor was too slippery, her movements too large, her feet slipped and she almost fell again.

Fucang caught her, but seeing that she was still struggling to run, fire rose in his heart. He seized her two wildly flailing hands and crossed them, restraining them against her chest. Xuan Yi struggled in every way but couldn’t overcome his strength. Exhausted and gasping for breath, she slumped in his embrace.

Fucang held her tightly, his voice somewhat grim: “Didn’t you want to cling to me? Why do you want to run again?”

Entangling him in a thousand threads, pulling him down—since he had already fallen, might as well make it thorough. A single blade straight through the heart? Or embrace him tightly with both hands? Since you’ve come, don’t leave. Don’t even think of leaving.

Xuan Yi gasped a few times, then suddenly quieted. After a moment, she spoke lowly, her tone carrying a strange, illusory quality: “Does Fucang Senior Brother want to force me into dual cultivation of yin and yang?”

Fucang’s arms trembled slightly. He lowered his head to look at her. Her head hung very low, all her expressions hidden by her long hair.

“…Is that what you think?” His voice was also extremely low.

She said slowly: “Is it only if I dual cultivate yin and yang with you that you’re willing to postpone the thousand-year dream?”

Fucang suddenly released her. With just one sentence, she had made all his struggles seem so ridiculous and sordid. In his ears, it seemed as if myriad butterflies were flapping their wings. Those countless steel needles shuttling through his body seemed to suddenly all pierce into his eyes.

He quickly closed his eyes, then opened them again, asking her with a trace of determination: “Do you like me?”

Xuan Yi slowly bit her lip, her brow tightly furrowed. His rough, difficult breathing echoed in the room, gradually seeming to transform into Mother’s hazy voice. She held her, clutched her, tears and blood falling together on her face. She said: Ah Yi, you must never easily fall in love with anyone in the future. The previous moment will feel infinitely sweet, but what follows is endless suffering.

She held her breath, forcefully clenching her fists, turning to look at him: “If I don’t say I like you, will you never pay attention to me again?”

Fucang laughed lowly, retreated several steps, suddenly revealing an expression almost fragile, asking her haltingly: “In the future… will you… like me?”

That expression heavy with thoughts and difficulty appeared on her face again, avoiding his gaze, avoiding all his desperate gambles.

The loud sound of shattering echoed in Fucang’s ears. She hadn’t caught him, letting him shatter all over the ground.

A fatal blow.

Fucang retreated two more steps, his complexion becoming deathly pale, saying in a low voice: “Go then.”

Xuan Yi hesitated for a moment, slowly backing out of the room, stopping outside the door. Those clamorous wind sounds began to envelop her. A nameless chill suddenly arose in her heart, and she abruptly called out: “Fucang…”

A coldness on her throat—the azure Chun Jun sword pressed against it, forcibly cutting off her words.

Fucang held Chun Jun, looking at her coldly. The gentleness that had once overflowed in his eyes and frightened her, and the malice that made her unable to resist challenging him—they had all disappeared, leaving only boundless deathly stillness and leaping hatred.

“Go.” He said one final word.

The dragon scales on her neck hadn’t fully grown yet. Chun Jun pierced through her skin—a faint pain that gradually spread to the depths of her body, leaving her at a loss.

He hated her this much?

Xuan Yi stared at him blankly, retreated two steps, turned and walked toward the end of the nanmu corridor, picked up her shoes, and left the courtyard without looking back.

Returning to the front hall, Baize Dijun was still drinking tea and chatting with the Azure Emperor. Seeing her return, Baize Dijun jumped down from his chair as if relieved: “Finished looking? Then let’s go back. We’ve been intruding here for quite a while.”

Xuan Yi smiled: “Yes, let’s go back.”

The Azure Emperor couldn’t detect any abnormality in her expression. This young princess actually revealed not a trace of her thoughts on her face. A vague sense of foreboding arose in his heart. After hastily seeing off the two guests, he immediately went to Fucang’s courtyard. After breaking through the cloud boundary, he saw that Fucang wasn’t staying in the room but was sitting alone on the nanmu corridor. The unsheathed Chun Jun sword lay on the ground, and he didn’t pick it up.

The Azure Emperor couldn’t help but say gently: “Fucang, how did your chat with Princess Xuan Yi go?”

After waiting a long time without an answer, he slowly approached, only to be shocked to discover that this child’s complexion looked extremely bad. The auspicious light around his body flickered on and off—clearly a sign of damaged spiritual essence.

He hurriedly supported his shoulders, asking in a low voice: “What happened? Were you quarreling with Princess Xuan Yi again?”

Fucang smiled lightly, picked up Chun Jun and sheathed it, saying: “It’s nothing. Father needn’t worry.”

The Azure Emperor frowned as he watched him slowly walk back into the room and hang up Chun Jun properly, then drift like a wisp of smoke behind the green gauze into the sleeping quarters, with no further sound.