Longyin Hall, atop the Dragon Throne.
“Don’t move. Just stay like this, be good, don’t move.”
Qin Qingyue lounged lazily on the wide Dragon Throne, her crimson dragon eyes—usually filled with boundless authority—now shimmering with an almost fanatical tenderness.
Her slender, elegant fingers, as if caressing the world’s most precious porcelain, gently stroked the tiny figure in her arms again and again.
From time to time, she would lower her head, pressing delicate kisses on that childish yet already handsome little face, clearly unable to let go.
“Qin Qingyue, can’t you stop being such a pervert?”
The small Jiang Huai, imprisoned in her warm embrace, spoke with a hint of shame and helplessness born from being “tormented,” his muffled voice coming from her chest.
His head was trapped between those two lofty, soft peaks, breathing in her chilly, refreshing fragrance with every inhale.
Having shrunk in size, his body’s flexibility now seemed to reach an unimaginable level. His legs were nearly forced, by Qin Qingyue’s mischievous hands, into a perfect split, leaving him utterly defenseless.
Meanwhile, Qin Qingyue’s restless hand wandered on him with natural familiarity.
“Where I come from, someone like you would be shot for this!” He tried to mask his inner fluster and honest physical reaction with self-righteous indignation.
Standing beside the Dragon Throne, Tang Zhaoxue stared at the scene in a daze, her pearly teeth unconsciously biting her lower lip, her hand inside her sleeve clenched tight.
A complex, indescribable feeling surged in her heart.
How… how could he become smaller?
Why didn’t he say so earlier?
If she had known back in the Small World, when she still held great authority, she would have turned him into this back then—wouldn’t that mean she could do as she pleased?
Qin Qingyue paid no mind to Jiang Huai’s “complaints” or Tang Zhaoxue’s tangled thoughts.
Seemingly struck by a more amusing idea, she paused her fingers, lowered her head, rubbed her nose lightly against Jiang Huai’s tiny dragon horn, and spoke in a beguiling tone:
“What do you think, if you could shrink even smaller, wouldn’t I be able to tuck you into my collar?” Imagining the scene, excitement flashed in her eyes.
“If that really happened, I’d hide you inside, put on the grandest palace attire, and take you with me to inspect the Nine Heavens Palace, to attend any banquet.”
“And you’d have no choice but to obediently stay in my embrace, on my person.”
“No one else would even notice that my husband was inside my clothes.”
“Or even if they did, so what?” Qin Qingyue’s voice grew ever more gleeful as she spoke.
“Smaller?! If I get any smaller, I really will have to consider shooting you, Qin Qingyue!” Jiang Huai abruptly lifted his head, trying to glare at her with his fiercest look, but it had little effect.
At the moment, he looked completely harmless; any action of his could only be seen as adorable.
“All right, all right, our Jiang Huai has the highest standards, okay?” Qin Qingyue responded perfunctorily, a satisfied smile curling her lips.
“Mm. You… hurry up. The others will be here soon. Zhu Siyao too…”
Moments later, Qin Qingyue sensed a sudden, fierce heartbeat.
A trace of understanding and mischief flickered in her eyes.
She looked up and gave Tang Zhaoxue a barely noticeable signal.
Without the slightest hesitation, as if receiving the highest command, Tang Zhaoxue strode forward in one great step.
Then, with a posture almost devout and tinged with a certain determination, she slid to her knees before the Dragon Throne, raising her cold, ethereal face.
“You… what are you…” Jiang Huai looked on in disbelief at this sudden scene, his mind nearly blank.
Then, under Jiang Huai’s stunned gaze, Tang Zhaoxue slowly and compliantly opened her lips.
“You’re too wicked!” Jiang Huai jabbed his elbow backwards into Qin Qingyue’s soft belly, his voice indignant.
Qin Qingyue only shrugged indifferently, as if she had just completed a perfectly ordinary task: “I just thought it was rather fun.”
She paused, then added, as if sharing a secret, “It was her idea, actually.”
As long as Qin Qingyue could secure her spot as the most unique, most dominant presence in Jiang Huai’s life, all these “little games” meant nothing.
After her mischief, Qin Qingyue, like a little girl who’d found her favorite doll, began enthusiastically dressing the limp, soul-weary Jiang Huai in her arms.
Clumsy yet incredibly patient, she fussed with the specially made tiny clothes, every motion filled with a strange blend of affection and possessiveness.
Tang Zhaoxue wiped the corner of her mouth, her jade-like neck moving slightly, eyes brimming with a different kind of happiness as if nothing had happened.
Outside Longyin Hall, the banquet was about to begin.
Beyond the hall, lanterns were just being lit, celestial music drifting in the air.
A lavish banquet was already prepared, colored glass cups and white jade plates arranged atop a long table of spirit wood, with the scent of Jiuxiang Jade wafting rich and tempting.
The atmosphere was that of an immortal gathering.
Zhuxin led Zhu Siyao, now changed into a suitable palace attire, into the hall.
Almost at the same time, from the other side, Chi Lian arrived in her resplendent Saintess robes—still with a trace of shyness, but clearly more assured and radiant than before.
The two parties met right at the entrance of the grand hall.
Zhu Siyao’s gaze, however, passed over her own mother and landed straight on Chi Lian.
Her expression was calm, even carrying the gentle smile befitting the “Master Sister,” but if someone could peer into the depths of her eyes, they might catch a fleeting, unfathomable coldness that did not belong to Zhu Siyao herself.
Chi Lian sensed this gaze and instinctively looked up, meeting Zhu Siyao’s eyes.
For some reason, even though the other was smiling, Chi Lian inexplicably felt a faint chill, as if something unseen had licked across her skin.
Uncomfortable, she lowered her gaze slightly, avoiding what seemed to be a peaceful stare.
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