Su Yu seemed to understand why all the women in those illustrated manuals wore tearful expressions and furrowed brows.
Because she felt the same way. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes into her dark hair, her brows drawn together. Yet neither the tears nor the frown came from pain.
Without realizing it, the fingers resting on Ji Xuanyue’s shoulders sank deep into the skin of his back.
She stood there with her mouth slightly open, momentarily stunned, and for the first time regretted the request she had made just moments earlier.
Just moments ago, she had at least been able to let out muffled sobs. Now, however, her lips were sealed by his, her tongue captured between them, and every whimper was swallowed down by Ji Xuanyue, disappearing into his throat.
In the surrounding gloom, she struggled to pry her eyes open and tried to push him away. But through her haze of confusion, the eyes so close to hers merely regarded her in silence for a brief moment before resuming their movements.
As the gauze curtains swayed, Su Yu could hold on no longer. Her mind went completely blank. She clung desperately to Ji Xuanyue’s shoulders. After what felt like an eternity, her arms finally dropped limply to her sides.
Ji Xuanyue was overwhelmed. Even without looking, he could sense the warm, abundant nectar of the medicinal spirit flowing out in wave after wave, nearly drowning him. It was several times more than on any previous night.
So mortals could be like this, too?
That cloying sweetness not only wrapped itself around every crack in his demon core, melting away the dull ache that had accumulated bit by bit over a thousand years, but also stirred him to the brink of losing control.
He forcibly suppressed the urge threatening to spill over and pulled back slightly. As expected, the medicinal spirit’s sweet fragrance flooded out immediately, richer and more lingering than ever.
Su Yu was so sleepy. Dazed, she lay buried in the bedding, thinking that Ji Xuanyue still wasn’t finished. At this rate, who knew how much longer he would keep at it tonight, when she suddenly heard his voice.
“You’ve worked hard, my wife… Go to sleep first.”
Half-asleep, she replied instinctively: “But you still haven’t…”
“It’s all right. It’s your first time. Too much would not be good for you.”
In the darkness, Ji Xuanyue stayed close, quietly watching her. “Go to sleep.”
As those almost hypnotic words fell from his lips, the drowsiness in Su Yu’s mind deepened. She gave a soft “Mm,” and drifted into a deep sleep.
Ji Xuanyue did not continue for two reasons.
First, the Sweet Spring was surging forth at this moment, and he had no intention of wasting it.
Second, he disliked being driven by instinct, nearly losing himself to indulgence and slipping out of control.
He had married Su Yu solely because of her Spirit Medicine physique. Now that he had discovered this unexpected wellspring, he should devote himself completely to repairing the cracks in his demon core. Such base desires were the sort of thing only the mediocre and mundane would wallow in; he would never let himself sink into them.
He cast a downward glance at his own body—the lingering, restless heat served as a clear testament to his recent loss of control.
With a faint furrow in his brow, Ji Xuanyue channeled his internal spiritual energy, suppressing the restless warmth until it completely subsided. Only then, once he had regained his composure, did he lift Su Yu’s limp, yielding knees. Leaning down, Ji Xuanyue pressed his lips against them.