Chapter 18: Her Hunger, His Role
The night air was cool, but Lin Mu's robes clung to him as though soaked in heat. He walked in silence through the inner sect's east corridor, past blooming lotus lanterns, each step heavy with what he had done—what he had agreed to.
The scent of incense drifted toward him before he even reached the door to their quarters.
Inside, Xue Lan was waiting.
She stood near the vanity, brushing her long black hair, each motion smooth and slow. Her robe was thinner than usual—sheer silk, barely clinging to her shoulders, tied loose at the waist with only a single fold crossing her chest. The fabric shimmered in the lantern light, revealing the curve of her breasts, her stiff nipples pushing out clearly beneath the silk.
Her skin glowed softly. Freshly bathed.
And yet her thighs bore the faintest bruises—faded marks left behind by Jin Rui days ago, evidence she hadn't asked him to go gentle.
She turned as Lin Mu entered.
"You're late," she said, her smile soft—but knowing.
"I was with him," Lin Mu said, his voice hoarse.
Her eyes brightened instantly. "Yan Zhuo?"
He nodded.