The felt curtain was lifted as someone pushed it aside, letting the night wind sweep into the tent, making the candlelight sway gently. Li Zhongqian, holding the night-luminous jade disc, turned around. A face full of smiles peered in, meeting his gaze, thick eyelashes fluttering: “Elder Brother.”

More than ten years ago, when he had returned to Wei County from Jingnan, she had been so tiny, soft, and delicate, wearing a matched-collar dress with floral patterns, her hair done up in little buns, resembling a small dumpling. Unable to walk yet, she would prop herself against the doorframe, tilting her small face up to call him: “Elder Brother.”

He would lift her, and she would wrap her arms around his neck, her soft little fingers brushing away the snowflakes from his temples.

“Elder Brother is cold.”

At that time, he had just finished handling the funeral arrangements for their uncle’s family and returned home travel-worn, truly feeling the cold.

But as the elder brother, he had to take good care of his sister. No matter how cold it was, he couldn’t let her feel chilled.

Li Zhongqian emerged from his brief reverie and sneered: “Tanmoluojia just left… are you already so concerned about him? Afraid I might mistreat him?”

Yaoying quickly tucked away her smile, lifted the curtain to step quickly into the tent, took hold of his arm, and said seriously: “I’m not concerned about him, I’m concerned about Elder Brother, worried he might say something wrong and anger you.”

Li Zhongqian knew she was trying to appease him, but still felt warmth in his heart. He gave a light snort, then thinking of Tanmoluojia’s condition, his brows furrowed slightly. His mouth opened and closed, his gaze falling on Yaoying’s face.

Yaoying was curiously examining the treasure boxes and gift cases in the tent.

He swallowed back the words that had risen to his throat.

She and Tanmoluojia had gone through so much to reach this point today; better not to mention things that would sadden her.

After appeasing Li Zhongqian, Yaoying went directly to find Tanmoluojia.

Night had deepened, the candlelight was dim, and Tanmoluojia sat cross-legged on the velvet rug with his back to the felt curtain. His clothes were half-removed, the leather belt with its inlaid short dagger placed aside. His back bore numerous scattered scars. Hearing Yuanjue and Yaoying’s voices outside the tent, he pulled up his loosened garment.

Yaoying came around the screen, smelled the medicine, walked to his side, and sat down. After washing her hands, she said with a grave expression: “Luojia, let me see your wounds.”

He did everything methodically, always arranging matters in advance. Today, within a single day, he had returned to secular life, issued an imperial edict, and met with Li Zhongqian – everything accomplished in one smooth sequence. He had thought of everything except his own body, waiting until now to apply medicine.

Tanmoluojia shook his head: “It’s just a minor injury, nothing serious.”

Yaoying stared at him intently, her brows slightly furrowed, her gaze solemn and stern: “Even if it’s not serious, I still need to look at it.”

Her tone was strict.

Tanmoluojia remained motionless.

Without another word, Yaoying raised her hand and opened his riding clothes, lowered the outer robe and lined garment to his waist. Her gaze lingered on the bloodstained undergarment for a moment. She bit her lip, her hands trembling slightly as she carefully pulled apart the undergarment.

Tanmoluojia sat shirtless in the dim candlelight, his back glistening with sweat, giving off a honey-colored glow. From shoulders to waist, his back was covered in wounds, large patches of bruising and swelling. In the candlelight, the marks left by the dharma staff crisscrossed chaotically, clearly visible. There were also several unhealed old wounds, the bruises a purple-tinged blue, presenting a heart-wrenching sight.

Yaoying’s heart ached with each look, gritting her teeth as she dipped her finger in the medicinal ointment and applied it to his wounds. “You’re in this state, yet you say it’s nothing…”

She sat beside him, her breath falling on his bare shoulders as she spoke, her smooth fingertips brushing over his back, gently caressing.

“Luojia, does it hurt?”

She asked near his ear, her voice full of tender concern.

The air seemed to ignite with a sudden fire, becoming scorching and intimate.

Tanmoluojia lowered his gaze, fine beads of sweat seeping from his entire body, the muscles of his shoulders and back tensing, his biceps trembling slightly.

“It’s better now.”

He said softly, paused, then looking at Yaoying’s fluttering eyelashes, added: “With Mingyuenu applying the medicine, I feel much better.”

Truly, he felt much better.

Yaoying’s movements became increasingly gentle as she finished applying the medicine and looked at him.

His face was covered in dense beads of sweat, his brows soaked, his features appearing more severe than usual, his presence carrying additional sharpness. His deep jade eyes were like a still pond, steadily watching her, his gaze upon her face carrying a gentle pressure, as if able to see through her entirely.

“Princess, I just went to ask your brother for your hand in marriage.”

He said, word by word.

Yaoying froze.

Tanmoluojia’s eyes churned with hidden currents, his strength emerging from beneath his cool demeanor. He sat formally upright, a bead of sweat rolling down his bare back into his waist, outlining clean lines. “I wish to ask for the Princess’s hand, to spend our lives together. I don’t know how long I can live, nor do I understand how to be a worldly lover. Would the Princess be willing to marry someone like me?”

Yaoying raised her eyes and gazed at him for a long while, her eyes gradually reddening.

She didn’t care about these formalities, didn’t care whether he could enter the secular world.

He cared. He didn’t know how long he could live, which was why he rushed to settle everything, so she wouldn’t have to struggle.

Yaoying’s emotions surged, she lowered her head, rested her face against Tanmoluojia’s shoulder, and nuzzled him affectionately.

Tanmoluojia waited a moment, then extended his arm, his fingers lifting Yaoying’s chin, his voice hoarse: “Mingyuenu, would you be willing to marry someone like me?”

These days he had appeared calm and composed, maneuvering everything skillfully, as if everything was well within his control. In truth, he wasn’t nearly as peaceful as he appeared on the surface. He feared there wouldn’t be enough time, feared that in this life he could give her nothing. He had once thought life was but a brief moment, like morning dew or foam, not worth concerning oneself with life and death. Only now did he understand why living beings cling so desperately to life.

Yaoying met his gaze, their eyes locked, tears glimmering in her eyes, the corners of her lips curving up as she gave a soft “mm” of assent.

This sound was like celestial music drifting through paradise, like the harmonious chirping of the Kalavinka bird. Heaven’s light shone down, and trees of flowers bloomed in profusion.

His lotus had bloomed for him.

This ray of moonlight was now gathered in his palm.

Tanmoluojia gazed intently at Yaoying’s autumn-water-clear eyes, and slowly pulled her close, his hand pressing against her neck, embracing her, his cool kiss falling on her crown.

Yaoying felt both heartache and bittersweetness, her heart overflowing with tender feelings. She raised her hands to embrace his waist, her fingers accidentally brushing his bare back, causing the embrace holding her to tremble slightly.

“Did I touch your wounds?”

Yaoying quickly struggled free from Tanmoluojia’s embrace, lowering her head to check the wounds on his back.

“It’s nothing.”

Tanmoluojia shook his head, his fingers lingering greedily in her thick hair.

Suddenly, an electric current shot up from his back, his entire body’s blood boiling and burning with it. He became completely rigid, his fingers stiffening, his blood surging.

A soft sensation spread across his bare back as Yaoying lowered her head, her fingers pushing aside his riding clothes, gently embracing the uninjured area at his waist. Her soft lips pressed against the protruding shoulder blade on his back, avoiding the medicine-covered wounds, kissing tenderly from top to bottom.

“Does this feel better?”

She asked between kisses, her tone almost a whisper.

The kisses falling on his back were gentle and dense.

Tanmoluojia remained motionless, the heat he had just suppressed rising again, spreading from where Yaoying’s kisses fell, causing slight tremors wherever they reached. An uncontrollable heat quickly coursed through his entire body, a scalding blush suddenly rising on his pale face, his eyes growing dark.

Yaoying hadn’t noticed his change, continuing to tenderly kiss his back one peck at a time.

“I’ll let this time pass… Luojia, you must promise me that from now on you’ll listen to me. When you’re injured, you must apply medicine immediately… You’re not allowed to be so careless with yourself anymore.”

Tanmoluojia closed his eyes for a moment, exercising extreme restraint, turning his face away from Yaoying, his throat bobbing as sweat slowly slid along the lines of his muscles.

Yaoying raised her head, kissed his shoulder, and tightened her arms around his lean waist. “From now on you’re my person, you must listen to me.” She smiled radiantly, speaking with sweet willfulness.

Tanmoluojia turned his head, looking at Yaoying’s upturned lips as she spoke, glistening and fresh, delicately parted with sweet breath softer than clarified butter. Her body nestled against him was like fragrant jade, like a handful of fine snow, light and soft – it seemed if he just held her gently, she would melt into his embrace, yielding to his every desire.

The forbidden thoughts that had long coiled in Tanmoluojia’s heart suddenly burst forth, burning like wildfire, growing and expanding, racing through every blood vessel, desperately wanting to erupt. Waves of fierce heat crashed and tore through his body, urgently seeking release. The veins in his neck stood out prominently.

Yaoying pressed close to him, felt his intense presence, and asked uncertainly: “Luojia…”

Before she could finish speaking, in the next instant, her nape was gripped, her chin firmly held by burning fingers. Tanmoluojia turned his body sideways, and straightened up, his tall and straight form looming above her, one hand pressing her neck, holding her tightly against him.

Her mouth was captured, his burning tongue parting her lips, exploring, tasting, colliding, turning, and entangling. Like a long-waiting beast finally catching its desired prey, eager to devour, fiercely possessing.

Through their clothes, Tanmoluojia could still feel her soft suppleness, her bone-deep fragrance. As her garments slowly parted, revealing snow-white skin, her flesh pressed against his bare, sweat-slicked chest, her scent growing ever more intoxicatingly rich, tempting him to taste. He couldn’t help but hold her tighter, pressing close, wishing he could merge her into his very flesh and blood.

Caught off guard, Yaoying whimpered softly, their lips and tongues melding as his burning embrace held her firmly, her limbs growing weak, nearly melting like spring water.

With a crash, the small table was knocked over. Yaoying sank deep into the velvet rug, Tanmoluojia’s tall form pressing down upon her, one hand sliding inside her garments.

He gazed at her, his eyes growing darker, his forehead beaded with sweat, breathing heavily.

Yaoying lay beneath him, her whole body tingling and weak, yielding softly. Her hand found his bare arm, slick with perspiration.

Her body grew hot in response, trembling continuously.

Sweat dripped from Tanmoluojia’s face onto the velvet rug. He stared at her unblinkingly, brows tightly knit, his features solemn and sacred like a Buddha statue, yet his eyes churned with suppressed emotion.

Yaoying’s face burned hot as she raised her arms to hook around his neck, pulling him down to kiss his forehead.

Tanmoluojia struggled for control, breathing rapidly, his fingers gripping the rug beside her tightly. Suddenly he closed his eyes, rolled off her, hastily grabbed the brocade quilt from the nearby couch, and wrapped her tightly from neck to feet, like bundling a rice dumpling. Then he sat cross-legged on the rug, closed his eyes, and began reciting scripture.

Yaoying froze, unable to move wrapped in the quilt, taking a long moment to process what had happened. He had just been proposing marriage, so why was he now reciting sutras? Had he regretted it, not wanting to break his vows?

After a long pause, Yaoying wiggled within the quilt, struggling to sit up. Like a silkworm cocoon, she inched over beside Tanmoluojia, her long hair falling loose, cheeks flushed, her captivating peach blossom eyes wide and round.

“You…” She had barely spoken one word when she was pulled into a burning embrace, Tanmoluojia’s arms encircling her through the thick brocade quilt.

“Forgive me, Princess. I couldn’t control myself just now.” He held her with eyes tightly shut, his lashes trembling violently, face covered in sweat. As he spoke, he adjusted his position stiffly.

Yaoying started, then felt his burning arousal and her eyes widened in surprise. She knew he was a man and knew his feelings for her, but only at this moment did she truly feel his desire.

In this state… Yaoying’s heart fluttered, her gaze uncertain where to land. She pressed her lips together in a smile, then blew softly against Tanmoluojia’s face, whispering: “Luojia, you don’t need to hold back… I’ve agreed to marry you.”

Tanmoluojia’s body trembled, his arms around her tensed like a drawn bow, full of restrained power.

“Princess, we’re not yet married…” He shook his head, speaking softly, his voice hoarse.

Yaoying stared blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter, squirming in his embrace: “That time when I came from Gaochang to the Holy City to find you, doesn’t that count as marriage? Then why did you kiss me?”

Her soft movements brushed against Tanmoluojia, making his breathing more ragged. His arms tightened, preventing her from moving.

“Mingyuenu, don’t move…” He opened his eyes, gaze deep, sweat dripping from his forehead, his expression one of painful restraint. “I… I can’t control myself right now, I might hurt you.”

As he spoke, a murderous aura seemed to surge around him, his muscles tensing.

Earlier, he had almost lost control, nearly defiling her here. He had taken too many pills when near death, causing his vital energy to overflow, almost leading to cultivation deviation. When he awoke, he had nearly lost all reason, along with all sensation, becoming like an unfeeling iron statue impervious to blade or sword, exactly like General Saisang’er before death. Bisuo and the others had never seen him like that.

During those days, no one dared approach him too closely.

Only upon seeing Yaoying did he regain his clarity of mind.

He feared harming her.

Yaoying dared not move.

Tanmoluojia held her and closed his eyes, continuing to recite scripture.

Much time passed, yet he remained tense.

Yaoying listened to his heartbeat, looking at his bare chest, finding no trace of sleepiness. Her gaze wandered, quickly averting when it chanced upon certain sights, her face burning hot.

In this state, would he recite scriptures all night?

“Luojia, are you very uncomfortable?”

Yaoying stretched her hands out from the quilt, hooked them around Tanmoluojia’s neck, and brought her lips to his ear, whispering: “I know a way to make you feel better…”

He had practiced cultivation since childhood and might not understand matters between men and women.

She had no experience either, but Princess Manda had indeed taught her many things… things she’d remembered despite herself.

In the dim candlelight, a visible flush rose rapidly on Tanmoluojia’s pale face, even his ears reddening, his breathing slightly uneven.

Yaoying seized the opportunity to break free from his restraint, unwrapping herself from the confining quilt. She knelt before him, laughing softly as she pulled him down to kiss his cheek, her forehead pressed against his, their breaths mingling. Her right hand gently caressed his tightly knitted brows, his high nose bridge, his firmly pressed lips, his bare sweat-covered chest, and fighting her nervousness and fear, slowly moved lower.

Tanmoluojia shuddered violently, his muscles trembling.

Though bold, Yaoying was now also red-faced, closing her eyes and burying her face in his shoulder.

Tanmoluojia held her tightly.