Could it be that Shen Yuehua has actually cultivated some kind of heretical charm art?
Or perhaps she possesses some rare constitution that irresistibly attracts women, regardless of their orientation?
Could Shen Mo be some kind of succubus reincarnated?
How else could every woman who sees her lose her mind like this?
The more Pei Yu thought about it, the more absurd it seemed.
Her gaze toward Shen Mo shifted from appreciation to wariness.
If that was truly the case, then her scheming ran deep!
Disguising herself as a fellow who detested men, getting close to her, using her to enter the inner circle—her goal had never been simple sightseeing or competition from the start, but… something else entirely?
“Little Sister Chu Yi,” Pei Yu suppressed the storm in her heart and forced a stiff smile onto her face. “Miss Shen is a guest I brought. Your words seem rather inappropriate, don’t you think? There should be some order in who came first.”
Hearing this, Chu Yi finally tore her gaze away from Shen Mo.
She cast a faint glance at Pei Yu.
Her golden eyes were calm and undisturbed, as if looking at a stubborn child throwing a tantrum over a toy.
“First come, first served?” Chu Yi repeated lightly, the corners of her lips curving upward. “Sister Pei, this isn’t a market, and I’m not here to haggle with you.”
“Chu Yi, what do you mean by that?”
Pei Yu’s smile vanished completely, her voice turning cold. “Miss Shen is my companion. She’s timid and shy. How can you just keep her here? If you’re bored, I’ll find someone better to accompany you tomorrow.”
“I said, I’m keeping her here with me.”
Chu Yi enunciated each word, and the pressure of a Yuanying Peak cultivator descended like an invisible mountain, slowly enveloping the space.
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“Chu Yi, Miss Shen is not an object to be pushed around!” Pei Yu suppressed her anger, trying to reason. “She has her own will! At least ask her what she wants!”
“Oh?” Chu Yi found this quite reasonable and turned her gaze back to Shen Mo. “Then you choose for yourself.”
Pei Yu’s face darkened.
She hadn’t expected Chu Yi to be so utterly rude.
Rage churned in her chest, yet she didn’t dare to openly break with Chu Yi.
Shen Mo gave a bitter smile.
Choose?
Did he have any room to choose?
On one side was Pei Yu’s gaze that seemed ready to devour him alive; on the other was Chu Yi’s golden eyes that brought an even greater sense of oppression.
He had no time to hesitate, nor any capital to weigh options.
He had to seize the closest—and most likely—thread available.
“I’ll stay.”
“Fine! Fine! Fine!” Pei Yu spat out three “fine”s, her face cycling through shades of green and white.
Her chest heaved violently. With a sharp crack, the folding fan in her hand snapped clean in two!
She spun around and stormed out, slamming the door with a thunderous boom that shook the flames within the pavilion.
Inside, the stifling silence returned.
“Now… it’s just the two of us.”
Chu Yi was in no hurry.
She leisurely toyed with the ice jade wine cup in her hand, her gaze lingering on Shen Mo’s moon-white Immortal-Soothing Skirt, which clashed with the surroundings, and the delicate Huanxue Mian on his face.
After a moment, she lightly patted the empty spot on the soft couch beside her. Her fingertips, glistening like jade, beckoned.
“Come over here. Sit beside Sister.”
Shen Mo moved step by step to the edge of the couch, settling at the farthest point, a full arm’s length away from Chu Yi.
His body was taut, his hands neatly placed on his knees.
He looked up. Her gaze was like a cat watching a mouse that had stumbled into its territory—neither hurried nor willing to let it go.
“Take that thing off your face. It looks strange.”
Shen Mo hesitated. He raised his hand, his fingertips touching the tiny rune pattern behind his ear.
With a gentle lift, the layer of disguise slid like cicada wings along the contour of his jaw, slowly moving behind his ear.
Then, naturally, he tugged at the wig that shaped his temples and concealed his silhouette.
But it wasn’t enough. Chu Yi dipped a fingertip into the leftover spirit wine in her cup and gently wiped it across his brow, which he had carefully modified and softened.
Then she wiped away the extremely faint lip balm that altered the shape of his lips.
As she wiped, seven or eight-tenths of his male contours were restored.
The veil slipped off, revealing his true face for the first time.
Chu Yi had seen much. Whether it was sect prodigies, aristocratic young masters, or the meticulously trained beauties of the pleasure quarters, she had encountered countless varieties.
Yet this person before her was unlike any she had ever seen.
Especially now, with his dazed and helpless expression at being exposed, it stirred an unfamiliar ripple in her normally calm heart.
She thought she had grown accustomed. She thought she would never be moved by anyone again.
But looking at this face, sitting here doing nothing, all she wanted was to hide him away.
Shen Mo clenched his fists so tightly that his nails almost dug into his flesh.
Only by sheer force of will did he keep himself from collapsing.
Chu Yi casually picked up the ice jade wine vessel, took another cup of the same material, tilted her wrist, and poured the clear, fragrant, amber-colored spirit wine into the cup.
The liquid made a pleasant trickling sound.
The aroma of wine filled the air, carrying a heady spiritual energy.
She handed the full cup to Shen Mo, her brow slightly raised.
“Drink first. Keep Sister company and have some fun.”
The amber liquid swirled in the ice jade cup, refracting an alluring luster.
But to him, it looked like poison. His face instantly grew even paler.
He instinctively shrank back and hurriedly waved his hand. “I… I can’t drink…”
At Jiaoyue Peak, he never touched alcohol.
First, because as a man, he rarely had occasions to drink.
Second, because of his special constitution—Pure Yin Body—he was sensitive to alcohol, with an extremely low tolerance.
A single sip would get him drunk.
This spirit wine before him was clearly no ordinary brew; its aftereffects would surely be fierce.
Right now, his mind and body were exhausted, the pressure immense. If he got drunk on top of that, who knew what terrible things might happen!
Exposure of his identity, loss of control, or even…
“Can’t drink?” The curve of Chu Yi’s lips deepened. “Since when does a drinking companion not drink?”
She pushed the cup closer, almost touching his tightly pressed lips.
“It’s always hard the first time. You’ll get used to it later… Hurry up… Do you need Sister to feed you mouth to mouth?”
She suddenly leaned in, closing the distance. “Don’t worry. As long as you make me happy, there will be plenty of rewards.”
“Rewards…” Those two words, like a potent catalyst, struck Shen Mo’s most sensitive nerve.
The Purifying Soul Dragon Spine Liquid!
If he went along with her wishes and made her happy, there might be a chance to obtain that life-saving liquid?
A crack appeared in Shen Mo’s mental defenses.
He stared at the cup so close to him, his mind in chaos.
Refuse? He might anger her and lose the only possible opportunity to get close to the Dragon Spine Liquid.
Drink? He didn’t know how strong the wine was, what state he would end up in, or to what lengths her definition of “making her happy” would go…
Just as this inner battle raged, Chu Yi’s hand holding the cup moved forward again.
The rim touched his tightly shut lips.
Shen Mo instinctively turned his head to dodge, but Chu Yi took advantage of the motion and tilted her wrist, pouring the liquid directly into his slightly parted lips.
“Mm…”
The sharp, fiery wine rushed into his throat without warning. Shen Mo choked out a low sound.
He swallowed instinctively, but a fair amount of wine spilled from the corner of his mouth, trailing down and soaking into his collar.
An intense alcoholic heat and a domineering surge of spiritual power exploded in his chest and abdomen.
A burning, scorching sensation rushed straight to his head.
“Cough, cough, cough…”
He covered his mouth and coughed violently, tears forced from his eyes.
His originally pale cheeks instantly flushed an unnatural crimson, spreading to his ears, neck, and even the corners of his eyes, which glistened with an enticing watery sheen.
He gasped for breath. His eyes, clouded with drunkenness, grew hazy and misty.
The clear pupils were veiled with moisture, adding a heart-stopping fragility… an unconscious seduction.
Chu Yi had only intended to tease and test him, to see how this clean-cut youth would look when pushed into a corner.
But now, seeing this alluring sight, her heart trembled slightly.
An unfamiliar, restless emotion began to stir within her.
“That’s right.” Chu Yi reached out her finger and gently wiped away the drop of wine lingering at the corner of Shen Mo’s mouth.
The gesture carried a hint of ambiguity. “Take it slow. No rush. Sister will wait for you to get used to it.”
Shen Mo wanted to pull away, but the alcohol had already surged through him, leaving his body limp and his head spinning.
He could only lean weakly against the edge of the couch, breathing rapidly, his unfocused eyes gazing at Chu Yi.
His consciousness was beginning to blur.
“Miss Chu…” His voice was hoarse.
“Call me Sister.” Chu Yi cut him off.
Shen Mo froze for a moment.
Chu Yi watched his dazed expression and laughed.
The smile was faint, but within that faintness, there was an indescribable tenderness.
“It seems you really can’t drink. This Golden Phoenix Dew is a fine brew, but its aftereffects are strong, especially for those with insufficient cultivation. How do you feel?”
Shen Mo barely suppressed another wave of dizziness. He struggled to lift his blurred, moist eyes to look at Chu Yi, but his vision wouldn’t focus.
He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was dry and tight. The voice that came out was soft and sticky. “Dizzy… hot…”
And a massive amount of spiritual power was rampaging through his meridians, igniting his blood, scorching his skin.
Fine beads of sweat seeped into his slightly damp collar. The moon-white fabric clung to his body, feeling somewhat clammy.
Chu Yi reached out and took his wrist.
Shen Mo jolted as if shocked, instinctively trying to pull his hand back.
“Don’t move.” Chu Yi said quietly. Her other hand also came over.
A strand of extremely gentle, pure spiritual power with a cooling aura gathered at her fingertip, which she lightly pressed against his brow.
A cool sensation seeped into his skin, like a thin stream of spring water flowing from his brow through his limbs, driving away the heat and dizziness brought on by the wine.
Shen Mo felt a flicker of clarity, like a drowning man finally breaking the surface and breathing air.
Borrowing this chill, he propped up his scattered spirit and, with all his remaining strength, looked at Chu Yi.
There was a desperate finality in his eyes. “I heard that the prize for this Flower Queen Competition—the Purifying Soul Dragon Spine Liquid—was provided by you.”
“I want… to beg you… grant me just one drop… just one drop is enough…”
He had finally said it.
Chu Yi looked at him for a long time.
She roughly understood his intention in coming here.
“What are you offering in exchange?” she asked.
Shen Mo sat there, looking into her eyes.
Those eyes were very bright, bright as stars. But beneath those stars lay an abyss with no bottom.