Chapter 320: The Lingering Melody

Inside the room, candlelight flickered.

The dim light bathed everything in a warm, ambiguous orange-red.

Jiang Huai caught sight of Cang Jing’s eagerly restless gaze. His heart clenched, and he abruptly shrank back.

“Wait!” he said hastily, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. “We can talk some more. Do you believe in fate?”

He was rambling, only trying to buy time.

Cang Jing shot Jiang Huai a glance.

Those amber eyes seemed especially deep in the dimness, even though she was doing her best to hide her instinctive reaction.

Her usually calm face still held no expression, but in her eyes at this moment, an unmistakable flame was burning.

She couldn’t control it, of course.

The twin sisters shared a set of senses—it was the fate of the Yellow Dragon clan’s twins, true from birth.

Whatever the younger sister did in the next room, she felt it all firsthand.

The things Cang Ling had just done… A flood of images flashed through Cang Jing’s mind.

If they could really get out, and talk about the moon and wind with this man, chat about his views on the world, that wouldn’t be bad.

But unfortunately, that wasn’t possible.

The sister in the next room clearly didn’t want to wait any longer.

She could feel Cang Ling’s growing agitation, like a small beast trapped in a cage, endlessly battering against an invisible barrier.

The matter of “who would marry him” had been argued between the two sisters since childhood.

Because of their shared body, this was the destiny of the Yellow Dragon twins.

They couldn’t be separated, couldn’t monopolize, couldn’t favor one over the other.

This time, Cang Ling had spoken first about marrying Jiang Huai. Cang Jing had thought it over and decided it was fine—they would take turns.

According to the procedure, the first night belonged to Cang Jing.

But now…

Cang Jing looked at the man before her, at the wariness and evasion in his eyes, and felt the scorching agitation coming from next door. She narrowed her eyes slightly.

“Do I look like someone who can talk?” she said, her voice low.

She was already dressed thinly, her lapel slightly open, revealing delicate collarbones and a small patch of smooth skin.

Now she gently lifted a corner beside her leg, the movement casual and natural.

She showed him without a word, but the meaning was clear: I’m not lying.

“Wait…” He took a deep breath, trying to make his voice sound steady. “We can still talk some more…”

His eyes glanced at the Azure Dragon Short Sword lying nearby.

‘Ao Yao… Ao Yao… Why haven’t you come back yet?’

At this moment, Jiang Huai could only hope that Ao Yao would perceive the truth of this world, find a way to wake Cang Jing and Cang Ling, and put an end to this increasingly absurd farce.

But Cang Jing’s actions were clearly more domineering than her sister’s.

With a very aggressive posture, she pressed down on Jiang Huai.

Her movements were as fast as lightning; by the time Jiang Huai reacted, his shoulders were already firmly pinned.

Those hands faintly showed signs of dragon claw transformation.

The fingertips became sharp, covered with a thin layer of yellow scales; the nails were no longer nails but sharp dragon claws.

That was a trait of the Yellow Dragon clan; they were natural Body Cultivators, and their dragon claws could tear through metal and stone.

But right now, this pair of dragon claws was used to…

Rip.

The sound of tearing fabric was particularly harsh in the silent room.

Cang Jing’s dragon claws, like cutting tofu, effortlessly tore through the clothes on Jiang Huai’s body.

Rip—Rip—

Piece after piece of fabric was torn off, fluttering down beside the bed and onto the floor.

The black outer robe, the white inner garment… In an instant, only tattered fragments remained on Jiang Huai.

Before he could react, Cang Jing had already roughly pressed Jiang Huai down.

The force was astonishing; Jiang Huai was pushed onto the soft bed, his back against the cool brocade quilt, his hands pinned so he couldn’t move.

Her hands moved swiftly.

The dragon claws moved swiftly.

Jiang Huai was pinned down, unable to move.

He struggled fiercely, but his wrists were clamped tighter, sending jolts of pain.

He glared at the increasingly excessive woman on top of him and said angrily,

“Are all of you Yellow Dragon clan so rough?!”

‘Damn it, why is this woman even more crude than Qin Qingyue? What kind of logic is this? Trapped here and treated like this, and I don’t even have room to resist?!’

Cang Jing raised an eyebrow.

She didn’t need any tenderness, didn’t need any teasing to add interest.

Because Cang Ling in the next room had already done everything for him.

That heat, that restlessness, that unspeakable desire—all were transmitted to her without a single drop missing.

Very convenient.

So convenient that she didn’t even need to arouse him herself, didn’t need to ignite anything. She could just get straight to the point.

A helpless bitterness tugged at the corner of Cang Jing’s mouth; that smile carried a hint of self-mockery, a hint of resignation. ‘I never thought this physique would be so useful here.’

She leaned down…

The adjacent room.

The same red candles, the same dim yellow light, the same curls of sandalwood incense.

Cang Ling writhed restlessly on the bed.

Her delicate body twisted like a restless snake on the brocade quilt.

Her cheeks were flushed, the flush spreading from her face to her ears and neck.

Her amber eyes were watery and shimmering, the corners of her eyes tinged with an amorous red.

She was preparing everything in advance for her sister.

No need to do anything herself, only to endure.

The feeling was strange—she herself had done nothing, yet it felt as if she were experiencing it all.

She writhed, her slender waist lightly rubbing against the brocade quilt, her long legs sometimes tense, sometimes relaxed, her toes curling slightly.

Those two next door… already…

Finally.

Cang Ling lay flat on the bed in comfort.

She sprawled out, completely relaxed, sinking into the soft brocade quilt, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

She didn’t need to move at all.

She just needed to enjoy her sister’s hard work next door.

The sensations came in an endless stream, sometimes light, sometimes heavy, sometimes slow, sometimes fast.

She lay there lazily, feeling those sensations, narrowing her eyes in pleasure.

She hummed a little tune softly, out of key, just humming freely, her voice full of contentment.

She even had the strength to get up.

While still receiving the endless stream of sensations, her legs trembling slightly, she actually managed to sit up slowly.

Her legs quivered, the movement unsteady, as if she might collapse again at any moment.

But she stood up, step by step, moving to the table.

She picked up the wine pot, poured herself a cup.

The wine was clear and bright, gently wobbling in the cup.

She lifted the cup, brought it to her lips, and took a sip.

The mellow liquid slid down her throat, bringing a wave of warmth.

She narrowed her eyes, her flushed face full of enjoyment.

After a moment, she put down the cup and slowly walked to the door.

Hanging by the door was an instrument of unknown material—the Yellow Dragon clan’s unique short flute, exquisitely crafted, its whole body faintly glowing with yellow light.

She picked up the short flute and brought it to her lips.

A leisurely melody began.

The tune was gentle and flowing, carrying a hint of laziness, a hint of contentment, a hint of ineffable satisfaction.

She played while feeling the movements from next door, her face flushed, a smile hanging from her lips.

‘I feel like I didn’t choose the wrong person.’ she thought to herself, humming, as she played the flute, smugly.

The melody drifted softly, passing through the wall and floating into the next room.

The next room.

Jiang Huai was suppressed with no way out. Cang Jing’s strength was too great; he couldn’t break free at all. Those hands held him firmly, immobilizing him.

Just then, from outside the window came a leisurely melody.

The tune was soft and melodious, especially clear in the silent night.

It drifted into the room, into his ears, carrying a wonderful rhythm that fit the atmosphere perfectly.

He couldn’t help but complain internally: ‘Why is someone playing a tune at a time like this?’

He had no energy to think about it anymore.

The tune lingered softly, not stopping all night.