Chapter 12 Part 2: Powerlessness

An uncontrollable instinct surged up from the depths of Qin Qingyue’s heart, and the Jiang Huai before her seemed to be radiating a tantalizing fragrance, teasing her nerves strand by strand.

It stoked her interest, making her feel swollen all over, as if the blood in her body was surging wildly out of control.

A primitive, almost savage tremor swept through her, rooted deep in her bloodline.

The Jiang Huai before her, in the blazing sight of her Dragon Eye, seemed to shed his human form and become a walking, dangerously alluring prey.

A lone woman and a lone man, sharing a room—Qin Qingyue had suppressed her Dragon Race nature for so long, but now it was as if she’d found a crack for it to burst forth.

“You, come here. I have something to eat for you.” Qin Qingyue stared fixedly at Jiang Huai, her Dragon Tail restlessly swaying, as if it might drag him back at any moment.

“I’m not going. I think you’re tricking me.” Jiang Huai shrank back, taking a step away.

The woman before him wasn’t wearing any clothes, only covered by a few Dragon Scales. How could she possibly have food?

Although the room was elegantly decorated, there was no food in sight. This was obviously a lie!

As for what she wanted to trick him into doing—

He noticed that the jade bed seemed to reflect a faint light, a dark stain spreading across it.

This was bad. Something was about to happen.

“I’ll go see if there’s anything to eat…” Jiang Huai turned, trying to escape, when suddenly he felt a tightness at his waist.

The Dragon Tail shot out, swift as a black lightning bolt, yanking him back with force.

Jiang Huai was just a Mortal—how could he possibly resist a cultivator at the Great Ascension stage? He was pulled into Qin Qingyue’s embrace, her arms locking tightly around his waist.

“Let me see.”

“See what?” Jiang Huai was forced to lie atop her soft, delicate body, looking up to ask.

He saw an unusual light in Qin Qingyue’s eyes, her slender jade hand restlessly exploring above him, her intentions clear.

The instinct lurking in her blood was driving Qin Qingyue, making her dizzy with desire, wanting to pin Jiang Huai beneath her and plow the field under her body.

There was hardly a Dragon who, by the Great Ascension stage, hadn’t been with a man. As the world’s most powerful beast, they never lacked for so-called resources.

Only Qin Qingyue was different—despite her age and cultivation, she was still a maiden.

Jiang Huai didn’t even have the strength to resist, toyed with by her delicate hands. Any struggle, in Qin Qingyue’s eyes, was just a form of coyness, holding no deterrent power at all.

He was afraid she’d kill him in a fit of anger, even more afraid she might break him accidentally.

For some reason, Jiang Huai suddenly thought of Wu Zhaohua, that sickly woman lying in bed.

Not the Sect Master in snowy white, sword light like a startled swan, but the ordinary girl in a shabby courtyard, always carrying a trace of sickness.

A warm, fragrant breath brushed against Jiang Huai’s neck.

“Why aren’t you resisting?”

Beneath Qin Qingyue’s snow-white skin, a strange, bewitching blush spread.

Tiny Profound Black Armor Dragon Scales appeared and faded uncontrollably at her waist, thighs, even her neck, flickering like breathing—each time bringing a searing touch.

Her breath grew more fragrant and lingering, curling around Jiang Huai’s body.

Jiang Huai was pressed down on the jade bed by her. He reached out and feebly patted her chest, weakly saying,

“I am resisting.”

To Qin Qingyue, this pat was as cute and harmless as a kitten kneading.

Jiang Huai understood now—resistance was futile. The woman before him would never let him go; she’d devour him completely.

In truth, his judgment was correct. The bloodline instinct Qin Qingyue had suppressed for so long was unleashed in this moment, like a boulder teetering atop a mountain.

Now that the boulder had fallen, it could only roll faster and faster down the slope—there was no stopping it.

What’s more, after so many years struggling in the Cultivation World, her firmest belief was to strike first and show no mercy, to take everything for herself.

Qin Qingyue’s black hair clung damply to her flushed cheeks, her chest heaving violently, every breath scorching.

Those vertical Dragon Eyes churned with the most primal greed and an almost devout focus, locking onto the warm, fragile prize beneath her—hers alone.

Sharp dragon fangs flashed between her red lips, weighing where to bite first.

“You came to the Dragon Palace in a wedding robe.”

“From now on, you’re mine.”

With that, she held nothing back, twining around him like a vine parched for a thousand years, trembling with morning dew, inescapably tenacious, tightly binding his trunk.

Their shadows tangled together, indistinguishable as to whose leaf belonged to whom—only sensing that their roots, deep in the earth, had quietly grown together.

No one knew how long it lasted. In the Dragon Palace filled with Night-Luminescent Pearls, Jiang Huai lost all sense of time.

He felt sore all over, his legs cramped, calves draped over Qin Qingyue’s shoulders, his body swaying atop the jade bed.

Qin Qingyue was like a greedy Dragon, demanding from Jiang Huai again and again.

Under her spiritual power’s interference, Jiang Huai was helplessly manipulated.

“I… I’m about to be…” Jiang Huai’s voice was weak and halting, broken by exhaustion.

“What? What do you want?” Qin Qingyue’s eyes shone with a strange light, her Dragon Tail slapping Jiang Huai’s body in excitement.

“Be…”

“Killed by you.” Jiang Huai finally forced the words out.

Qin Qingyue froze, hurriedly stopping herself, a hint of embarrassment coloring her face as she sat up.

Jiang Huai lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, pondering the meaning of life, hunger and weakness radiating from his body.

Faint red marks from the Dragon Tail still lingered on his skin and legs.

Qin Qingyue smoothed her hair by her temples, and for the first time, a girlish shyness appeared on her usually bold, mature face.

It seemed she’d overdone it, that she shouldn’t have ravaged him so excessively.

After all, the other party was only a Mortal. How could he possibly spar with a Great Ascension stage Dragon Race at full strength?

“Would you like some water?” Qin Qingyue sat at the bedside, asking with concern.

From now on, this man with the unyielding fate was hers.

As for Wu Zhaohua? There was no way she’d return Jiang Huai to her. She’d never find another man like this.

“I don’t want water. I want food.” Jiang Huai didn’t even have the strength to sit up.

“Right, right, food.”

Qin Qingyue’s fingertips twined with a wisp of pure Black Dragon Aura, which she gently swept over Jiang Huai’s body, covered in red marks.

That Dragon Aura moved like a living creature, swiftly condensing and spreading, transforming into countless fine, cool, darkly gleaming scales, fitting together seamlessly to cover every inch of skin, finally flowing into a form-fitting black robe.

This wasn’t fabric, but a part of her true self—an extension of her power and being.

The inside of the scales was warm and smooth, shielding him from the Dragon Palace’s chill, yet bringing a sensation of being inescapably enveloped.

It was far more comfortable than any fine silk.

Jiang Huai looked in surprise at the black garment on his body and asked, “Is your black armor made the same way?”

Could it be that all of Qin Qingyue’s clothes were transformed from her own black scales?

“This Profound Black Armor?”

With a mere thought, that dignified, imposing black armor instantly covered Qin Qingyue’s body, making her figure as straight as a spear.

She deliberately flicked the hard plate over her chest with a finger, producing a clear, metallic ring, showing off like a child with a beloved toy:

“Of course this isn’t my Dragon Scales, it’s my Protective Magical Tool, stolen from another Dragon Palace.”

Ever since she’d been intimate with Jiang Huai, she’d noticed subtle changes in her mindset—she wanted to show this man her strength and her treasure trove.

She wanted to win the admiration and adoration in his eyes.

After all, he was different from other men—not only tough-fated, but not driven by profit or fear.

Just from the matter with Wu Zhaohua, it was clear—this man was truly kind, like a blank sheet of paper.

And what she wanted was to paint that blank paper entirely in her own colors, erasing every trace of Wu Zhaohua.

“You just wear this for now. My scales are far better than ordinary magical treasures.” Qin Qingyue stepped forward to help Jiang Huai up as she spoke.

All control over these clothes was in her hands.

If she wished, she could make Jiang Huai return to his previous, utterly naked state.

Extremely convenient.