After bathing and drying her hair, Sang Dai, with her long green-black hair cascading down, walked toward the main hall.
As soon as she pushed the door open and swept aside the beaded curtain, a tall and slender figure came into view.
Sang Dai: “……”
Su Xuan turned to glance at her and said calmly, “Oh, madam, you’re here.”
Sang Dai: “……Shut up.”
Su Xuan, however, noticed the faint redness at the base of her ears.
Cui Shao’s words seemed to open a floodgate in his heart—what Sang Dai needed was unreserved, passionate, and bold companionship and love. If he wanted to marry his lady this year, relying on subtle coaxing alone would take quite some time.
This certain fox had no sense of moral restraint to begin with. The demon race wasn’t as bound by rules as the human race, and his skin was certainly thicker than Sang Dai’s.
For someone too concerned with saving face, the best approach was to chase them with someone like him who had none at all. This fox knew perfectly well that he was shameless, so he and Sang Dai were a natural pair.
Seeing Sang Dai’s face flushed with embarrassment, Su Xuan smirked and, with a sense of entitlement, lay down on the main bed.
The tall man sprawled out grandly on the outer side, leaving a vast area on the inside—enough for several Sang Dais to lie down.
She was stunned, silent, and eventually relented.
“You sleep here. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep.”
This place was his to begin with, after all. Sang Dai just wanted to talk to him about finding her another place to sleep.
But before she had walked far after turning around, a sudden tightness at her waist made her look down.
A strong, lean arm encircled her waist. With effortless ease, he lifted her into the crook of his arm and deposited her on the inside of the bed.
“Su Xuan!”
Su Xuan lay flat again, keeping some distance between them.
The two had slept together numerous times before. Su Xuan had never acted improperly—it was always her who fidgeted in her sleep. But now, with her meridians stabilized and no injuries, why were they sharing a bed?
Sang Dai’s face reddened.
However, this particular rogue clearly lacked such moral sensibilities. The demon race was naturally uninhibited, and Su Xuan, perfectly at ease, closed his eyes and said, “You’d better get used to this early. After all, once we enter Chunqiu Tower tomorrow, you’ll be sleeping with me for the entire duration.”
Sang Dai: “How about asking the Pavilion Master for a favor and telling him the truth?”
Su Xuan lazily opened one eye. Meeting Sang Dai’s hopeful gaze, he ruthlessly shattered her dream: “That’s probably not possible. I once fought with him and tore down the Chunqiu Tower. The one you’ll see tomorrow is a rebuilt version. I doubt he’d do me this favor.”
Sang Dai: “……Can we even still enter?”
“If we can’t enter? Then I’ll just tear it down again.”
“……Is there anyone left in the Four Realms that you haven’t offended?”
Su Xuan snorted coldly. “Do I seem like such a vicious person?”
Sang Dai nodded seriously: “Yes.”
Su Xuan also nodded seriously: “Not only are you blind and dumb, but there’s something wrong with your brain too, to so wrongly accuse me like this.”
With this back-and-forth, the bit of awkwardness in Sang Dai’s heart turned into laughter.
Su Xuan pulled the brocade quilt over her, resting his hands behind his head as a pillow, lying on the outer side while both of them gazed at the canopy above the bed.
The two remained quiet for a long time.
Suddenly, Su Xuan spoke: “Sang Dai, when we arrive at the Chunqiu Tower, you might encounter the person behind all this. Are you afraid?”
Sang Dai chuckled softly: “Only those who have done wrong should be afraid. I am not.”
Su Xuan’s eyes curved with a smile as he turned to look at the sword cultivator beside him.
Their eyes met, facing one another.
Su Xuan’s gaze was calm as he asked, “Sang Dai, I know you’re not afraid, but can you trust me a little more?”
Sang Dai’s eyelashes fluttered lightly. “…What?”
He moved closer, closing the distance between them.
With the tall demon cultivator so close in front of her, Sang Dai’s every breath was filled with his oppressive presence.
“Su Xuan… I, what’s wrong with you?”
Looking straight into her eyes, Su Xuan said softly, “Trust me a little more, open your heart just a little further. I will never betray you. In the Chunqiu Tower, I will be your final card to play. You can call for me anytime, and you don’t need to endure alone.”
Sang Dai shrank into the brocade quilt, her gaze somewhat at a loss.
Su Xuan reached out to brush her loose hair behind her ear, his palm resting gently against the side of her face.
“The Beast Realm is a good place. If the matters of the Guixu are resolved, how about living in the Beast Realm?”
“The people of the Beast Realm will respect you, honor you, and never betray you. I will be the same. Sang Dai, this is my promise to you.”
[“If you walk the immortal path, I will walk it with you. If you choose a path to death, I will follow you to the underworld. Dai Dai, open your heart just a little further, give me a little more space, won’t you?”]
He hoped Sang Dai would understand—no matter when, there would always be someone behind her who trusted her unwaveringly, accompanied her, and followed her until death.
But Sang Dai remained silent for a long time.
Su Xuan was not in a hurry. He was surprisingly patient, gently stroking her hair one strand at a time, waiting for her answer.
After a long time, Sang Dai slowly raised her eyes:
“Su Xuan.”
“I’m here.”
Sang Dai looked at him, suddenly curious—why could she hear Su Xuan’s inner thoughts?
Hearing that someone liked her so deeply, accompanied her so resolutely, and vowed to follow her unto death.
And that someone was her formidable rival.
She reached out her hand, pressing it against his chest. She could feel his steady and strong heartbeat, so full of vitality. Su Xuan had always given her a sense of invincible strength and spirited grandeur.
The thin sleeping robe could not shield the heat of his body. His vaguely visible collarbones were distinct and clear. Sang Dai pulled his collar aside slightly and saw the scar on his shoulder.
Her fingertip lightly traced the scar, and she softly asked, “Did it hurt when I gave you that strike?”
The little fox replied with a smile, “It hurt, it hurt to death. It hurt so much, Miss Sang. I thought I was going to die from the pain.”
He was just teasing her. He couldn’t change his habit of teasing her any chance he got because he loved seeing her smile.
But this time, Sang Dai neither blushed nor showed any embarrassment.
“Did it really hurt that much?”
“It hurt a lot. I almost cried from the pain.”
“Shall I blow on it for you?”
Suddenly, she leaned forward and lightly blew on his shoulder.
The aura surrounding Sang Dai was always slightly cool. Though her breath wasn’t icy, it was still noticeably cooler than his body temperature.
Su Xuan could clearly feel her breath as it blew against the scar on his shoulder—gentle and light, just like parents who comfort their children when they fall, blowing softly on their injuries.
In the past, Su Xuan would have thought such a thing was childish and foolish. If blowing on it could ease pain, why would one need healers?
But now, the person he liked was leaning against him, parting his collar, her small face calm and her soft breath caressing his scar. It was so light—so light it was almost weightless—but heavy enough to crush every defense he had.
Suddenly, he grabbed Sang Dai’s hand and pulled her closer. The distance between them vanished, and she fell onto him.
Su Xuan’s voice turned fierce as he asked, “Sang Dai, do you know what you’re doing?”
Sang Dai looked at him, bewildered. “I… I was blowing on your wound. Does it still hurt?”
Su Xuan’s lips pressed into a line. “The wound doesn’t hurt, but somewhere else does. It hurts so much I might die—what should we do about it, Miss Sang?”
Sang Dai’s face flushed red. “I—I don’t know… Sorry.”
Just moments ago, she didn’t know what came over her. Hearing Su Xuan’s words, she felt overwhelmed, and now she realized she had crossed a line.
She struggled slightly, turning her head away and closing her eyes, not daring to look at him. “Su Xuan, I—I didn’t mean to. I acted impulsively… Maybe you should go handle it yourself?”
Miss Sang had no knowledge about such matters. However, during her demon-exorcising missions, she once snuck into a brothel. There, she heard the girls say that repressing desires for too long was bad for the body and needed to be resolved. Considering how Su Xuan had been ascetic for so many years, she worried he might harm himself.
The fox demon almost laughed in exasperation.
She teased him without realizing the consequences, ignited his fire, and now wanted to toss it aside and walk away? How unreasonable could she be?
Seeing her ears reddened to the point of bleeding, Su Xuan suddenly exerted more strength. With a firm motion, he flipped her onto the bed, pressing her down.
The man above her said fiercely, “I don’t want to handle it myself. If you make a mistake, you have to make up for it. Don’t you even know that much, Miss Sang?”
Her back pressed against the soft brocade bedding, and her wrists were pinned beside the pillow. Suddenly, she felt something warm against her ear—he had bitten it.
At first, Sang Dai didn’t react. It all happened so suddenly that she didn’t know what to do.
But when Su Xuan bit down on her earlobe, his soft tongue rubbing over the small tip, Sang Dai felt as if her very soul was trembling.
“Su… Su Xuan…”
Her voice quivered uncontrollably. She had never experienced anything like this before, and her legs felt weak.
Su Xuan’s hand, which had been holding her wrist, slid upward until his fingers intertwined with hers. From outside the canopy, one could see a tall man in black, broad and imposing, towering over the woman beneath him. His large hand firmly pressed against her smaller one, the veins on the back of his hand bulging as if he were using immense strength.
All the suppressed fire had been stirred by her, but hearing her ragged breaths, Su Xuan finally relented. He pulled the quilt out from between them and gathered her into his arms, letting her rest on top of him so she wouldn’t feel his weight.
Their eyes met, and Sang Dai’s face was flushed, her gaze soft as spring light. Sitting in his lap, her slender legs straddled him on both sides, and she could clearly feel his desire.
Sang Dai trembled as she spoke, “I acted impulsively just now. Can you… handle it yourself?”
The fox refused to listen. He leaned down, planting soft kisses on the base of her ear, one after another. As she tried to pull away, he held her tighter, pressing her into his embrace. Su Xuan kissed her ears thoroughly, and the sword cultivator, who had never been kissed before, couldn’t take it—her entire body melted into a puddle.
His lips gradually trailed downward, falling to her neck.
Sang Dai struggled to breathe, pushing at him. “Su… Su Xuan, I was wrong…”
Admitting her mistake was timely.
But having his fire stoked twice tonight, Su Xuan couldn’t suppress it any longer. He wasn’t someone who would take advantage of another, but he was far from being indifferent in such situations.
Holding the trembling Sang Dai down, Su Xuan gently patted her back to calm the flustered sword cultivator. His voice, rough and hoarse, whispered, “Just a kiss, only here. I won’t do anything else or touch you anywhere else.”
Sang Dai turned her head to look at him and immediately saw the bulging veins on his forehead, fierce and prominent. His once glassy eyes had darkened to a faint red, and beads of sweat dotted his neck. She could clearly sense his discomfort and his deep yearning for her.
“…Will kissing you make it better?”
“Kissing will make it better.” Su Xuan leaned closer, pecking lightly at the base of her ear. “Miss, just a kiss. Be kind to me.”
He murmured softly, his body growing hotter and hotter.
“…Only there?”
“Only here, Dai Dai.”
Sang Dai hesitated for a long time. He had promised only that much, and hearing his labored breathing, she eventually closed her eyes, burying her face in Su Xuan’s neck and wrapping her arms around him without saying a word.
It was an unspoken agreement.
She had agreed.
He had bet that she would soften toward him, and he had been right.
Su Xuan’s gaze fell on her ears, which were flushed bright red now, faintly marked with bite marks he had left behind.
He had truly kissed the person he loved.
His movements turned gentler as he kissed the base of Sang Dai’s ear, his lips caressing her like a little fox. He licked and lightly nibbled, drawing small shudders from her.
Sang Dai didn’t make a sound, but her arms tightened around him, and her slightly trembling shoulders betrayed her emotions—she was far from calm.
She buried her face firmly in his chest, eyes shut tight. This fire had been kindled by her, so she felt responsible for it. Sang Dai had always been rational; since Su Xuan had helped her so much, she believed she should help him once in return.
She interpreted it as a form of assistance and repayment, thinking that if she closed her eyes, she wouldn’t feel embarrassed. But with her eyes closed, Su Xuan’s every touch became even clearer.