The guide snake women examined him with smiling gazes that seemed to want to devour him. Weaving through flowers and willows all the way, their slender and enchanting snake waists swayed as if about to break, finally leading Fucang into the guest chamber.

Today, the new Snake Empress ascended to the throne and specially permitted five days of indulgent revelry. Guests were also welcome to try their luck with anyone who caught their eye. This young Qing Di had long been secretly coveted by countless snake women. It was said that even the new Snake Empress had attempted to seduce him back in the day, but he hadn’t taken the bait. The snake women guessed that perhaps he didn’t like the empress type, and instead preferred more gentle and demure women.

Thus, the snake woman among them who looked most gentle and demure gracefully stepped forward and said softly: “Dijun, your wife is drunk from the wine and likely cannot provide pleasure. On such a beautiful night with such lovely scenery, wouldn’t it be a pity to let it pass? If it’s you, Dijun, we are willing to temporarily abandon our ways of women ruling supreme, desiring only a night of ecstasy with you.”

Fucang’s voice was cold: “No need. You may withdraw.”

Having said this, he closed the door behind him. The snake women stamped their feet repeatedly in exceptional regret.

Inside the elegant guest chamber, purple gauze was spread everywhere. Some kind of incense burned in the jade cauldron in the corner—an unfamiliar scent, though it wasn’t decadent at all, but rather elegant and refreshing. Fucang placed the Dragon Princess, who had long since become drunk as soft mud in his arms, on the bed. Seeing that her extremely sensitive nose had no particular reaction to this fragrance, he paid it no more mind.

The enormous moon window was half-open. The unrestrained singing and dancing continued indulgently in the distance. The moonlight was like frost. Fucang wasn’t yet sleepy, so he leaned against the window alone, drinking wine and appreciating the moon.

Due to the grand wedding, she had three hundred years of leave. Now, he didn’t know which person was driving the moon carriage—they were doing a truly terrible job. He kept feeling as if the moon was about to fall off the carriage.

He couldn’t help but laugh. Turning his head to look at the Princess sleeping soundly on the bed, he didn’t know why, but her half-parted lush lips in the water-like moonlight had a kind of sudden, unusual allure.

Fucang was no longer the naive divine lord of years past. As soon as the uncontrollable desire arose, he immediately sensed something was wrong. With a sweep of his long sleeve, the incense block burning in the jade cauldron was quickly soaked through with water. Having passed through ten thousand years in a dream, whether illusory enchantments or sensory temptations, all were useless—was it because of the wine and incense together?

He placed the wine cup on the table and listened carefully. There was no particular disturbance around them, so he relaxed. Tuxiang Mountain’s style had always been indulgent—arranging some distinctive aphrodisiac items was perfectly normal.

Fucang walked to the bedside, drew Xuan Yi into his embrace, and gently patted her cheek: “Wake up.”

She made an “mm” sound and unceremoniously pushed his hand away, using her sleeve to cover her head and face. That’s right—all methods were useless against the Zhuyin Clan. She was sleeping quite soundly, truly vexing.

Lifting her sleeve, he leaned down and bit those two lips full of unusual allure. He truly wished he could bite her awake, but she just wouldn’t wake. One by one, the sashes were undone. His hand passed through the gaps, grasping skin like flower petals. Finally, he felt some regret—he shouldn’t have tricked her into drinking wine.

Hurry and wake up. Fucang felt his breathing become heavy, desire growing wild. He gradually couldn’t control his strength—that pale jade-green lotus robe on her body was actually torn open with a gap. He lost patience and directly pulled open the collar, his feverish lips falling on her collarbone.

Usually, she would dodge at first, but right now she wasn’t dodging—yet she wasn’t moving either. He would rather she dodge randomly.

Fucang let out a breath, hovering over the Dragon Princess, looking down at her. She was sleeping so deeply—continue sleeping then. It was fine if she didn’t wake.

The elaborate and magnificent lotus robe floated to the floor like feathers. The layered gauze curtains fell. The moonlight became hazy and ambiguous. The body on the deep purple bedding was graceful and slender. Fucang kissed down along the beautiful arc of her jaw, his lips falling on her rising chest, hesitating for a moment between hurting her or not hurting her, ultimately mercifully choosing the latter.

The softness in his palm was like a handful of warm ice and snow, though the tip had a delicate color like apricot blossoms. He kissed carefully for a long time, but in the end still couldn’t resist taking a bite, as if wanting to devour her. The Dragon Princess instinctively raised her hand to push him away. He simply placed her hand by his lips to nibble on, one hand sliding down along the enchanting curves, as if touching the most fragile thing—and that truly was her most fragile place.

The moment his fingertips touched that extremely tender skin, Xuan Yi suddenly stirred and finally opened her eyes to wake. She wanted to turn over but seemed powerless. Fucang leaned down and gently pressed her down, kissing her half-parted lips bit by bit, his voice low and seductive: “Don’t hide.”

Xuan Yi only felt dizzy and heavy. This bastard—and he had the nerve to remind her “see no impropriety.” Did anything he was doing now have even a bit to do with Huaxu Clan’s ways of propriety and virtue? This was clearly taking advantage of someone’s vulnerability.

Whether because of the alcohol or something else, her body was unexpectedly sensitive tonight. When his fingertips lightly touched one place, she suddenly curled up her body, both hands tightly gripping his shoulders, forehead pressed against his shoulder, a moan emerging from her rapid breathing.

He said don’t hide.

Fucang gently pressed her forehead, pushing her head onto the pillow, gazing at her frowning expression. Her eyes had gained a layer of hazy moisture. He went to kiss her eyes. The slippery wetness on his palm repeatedly reminded him that she was already aroused, but right now her expression was truly quite alluring—he wanted to look a bit longer.

Her breath carrying wine fragrance was warm and sweet. Fucang breathed in her exhalations, his fingers attempting to invade her tight body. She suddenly closed her eyes, both feet struggling weakly on the bedding. Perhaps she wanted to escape upward, but with her body pressed down, she couldn’t escape no matter what. Following the rise and fall of his wrist, she curled up her body again, struggling between indulgence and restraint. Bone-deep pleasure was devouring her inch by inch. Her lips moved, releasing trembling moans, which were then caught between his lips. He teased her trembling tongue stroke by stroke.

The struggling intensified. The familiar fatal sweetness struck. It came fast and fierce today. Xuan Yi instinctively held him tight. The desire he had awakened in her rampaged unrestrained through her body. Those profound and powerful burning pulses gradually extended from her body to her limbs, making her entire body tremble violently.

Fucang soothingly caressed her sweat-dampened cheeks. Now she wouldn’t hide, would she?

He hooked her trembling knees and leaned down to enter her body straightforwardly.

This really wasn’t a good place, was it? The bed was too soft, the scenery filled with the colors of desire. Poor Dragon Princess—drunk on wine, she couldn’t even sleep peacefully. He could no longer distinguish whether it was the aphrodisiac items stirring up desire, or his own desire overflowing, or perhaps it was precisely because she was beside him that his impulses were so irrepressible.

The pillow had already shifted to the corner. Xuan Yi seemed somewhat unable to bear his violent movements. Both hands pushed against his chest again, her long hair falling over the bed’s edge, swaying violently.

Fucang gripped both her wrists and pressed them onto the bedding. Hazy moonlight scattered upon his undulating body—alluring and powerful lines. A bead of sweat slid from his chest down to his abdomen, disappearing at the junction. Her intermittent gasps and moans sounded almost like sobbing. Had he hurt her?

He leaned down to cup her face. There were no tears. He scooped her back into the bed, urgently going to kiss her, seeming to soothe, seeming to seduce as he whispered to her, slowing his movements, feeling every most minute detail of her body.

That feeling of nearly shattering came again. Xuan Yi suddenly hooked his neck, clinging to him tightly as if boneless, that layer of hazy moisture in her eyes seeming ready to drip at any moment, calling to him over and over in a soft, coquettish voice.

Heaven and earth spun—she had already fallen atop him, her long hair hanging down her back like woven satin, twisting her body instinctively, like a snake.

Beads of sweat rolled down her cheeks. Xuan Yi suddenly stopped, lowering her head to speak softly: “Senior Brother Fucang.”

What?

“Let me rest a moment.” She was drunk on wine—right now she seemed suddenly a bit dizzy.

…Not allowed to rest.

Fucang tightened his grip on her waist, turned over and continued pressing down. Only she could soothe this boiling desire. If tired, then just hold onto him.

The pillow finally slid to the floor. Two panels of purple gauze were torn down in the entanglement. Clear moonlight flowed in. The Princess’s pale skin had become as delicate as apricot blossoms. The beautiful arc of her jaw was raised high. Her legs curled on either side of him began pulling at the bedding again.

Fucang lowered his head to kiss her trembling lips. The blooming sounds need only be heard by him.

In the distance, that unrestrained music and dancing continued. Indulgent Tuxiang Mountain, indulgent gods—a night of revelry, the night not yet ended.