Pei Yan was completely frozen.
That touch... it was too soft.
She didn’t dig her nails into him or twist his skin. Instead, using her palm, she pressed and pushed along his meridians in a steady rhythm.
Thanks to the essential oil, the patches of frostbite that had been searing with pain now tingled with a numbing, itching sensation that crawled madly along his nerve endings, straight to his crown.
“Mm...”
A muffled groan escaped Pei Yan before he could stop it. Then, as if burned, he jerked back, trying to break free.
But Chu Mingzhao pressed hard on a sensitive acupoint.
“Did this lady give you permission to move? Since you’re being washed, every inch must be cleansed inside and out. If this oil isn’t worked into your flesh, wouldn’t it all be wasted?”
Pei Yan hissed in pain, his breathing immediately growing ragged.
He had endured Chu Mingzhao’s torment before, but never anything so bizarre as this.
The heady scent of roses mingled with Chu Mingzhao's distinctive feminine fragrance, enveloping him completely. Within his line of sight were the strands of her hair that had fallen onto his shoulder and the pale wrist that swayed with each movement.
He despised physical contact.
Especially with her.
Yet, deep inside, that restless heat he had just managed to suppress was surging again under her touch.
She seemed unsatisfied with just his back. Her fingertips slid from his waist to his chest.
There, where he had been struck by the whip.
Though the wound hadn’t split open, it was red and swollen.
When her oiled fingertips touched that tender area, Pei Yan’s body arched sharply, his Adam’s apple rolling violently.
Pain.
But tangled in the pain was a pleasure that made his scalp tingle.
“Chu... Mingzhao...”
He bit out her name, his voice hoarse as if filled with gravel, the end of each syllable trembling uncontrollably.
“What... trick is this...?”
Chu Mingzhao ignored his question. Her attention was fixed on the system’s notification window.
[Ding — Detection of intense physiological response in the male protagonist. Po value rating: A-Grade (Gradual Improvement).]
[Congratulations, Host. You have earned 20 experience points. 70 more points needed to level up.]
Physiological response?
Chu Mingzhao’s gaze unconsciously drifted to the water’s surface.
This man, usually as cold and aloof as an immortal, now had a strikingly red beauty mark at the corner of his eye. His long neck was tilted back, his Adam’s apple rolling violently, and his half-lowered lashes trembled with each rapid breath.
And beneath the layers of floating rose petals, the water rippled... oddly.
Sweat slid down his chiseled jawline, mingling with the glossy oil on his chest.
The corners of his eyes were flushed red, as if in rage or as if he were enduring some unbearable agony.
Chu Mingzhao: ...
System, you’re way too sensitive, aren’t you? He’s already reacting? Does Pei Yan have some kind of Stockholm syndrome?
Forcing herself to stay calm, she maliciously traced a circle on his chest with her finger.
“What? Can’t handle this much? Pei Yan, your body is even more pathetic than I thought.”
Pei Yan felt a string snap in his mind.
A wave of unprecedented shame drowned him.
Once could be a coincidence. But now? What was this?
He hated her enough to want to tear her apart, yet his body shivered at her touch... and even craved more.
“Get out...”
Pei Yan squeezed out a single word from between his gritted teeth, his eyes bloodshot, as if he wanted to devour her alive. “Don’t touch me!”
He swung his hand violently, trying to shove Chu Mingzhao’s hand away. But the essential oil on his skin was too slippery—instead of knocking her off, he accidentally seized her wrist by instinct.
Caught off balance, Chu Mingzhao let out a startled cry as her body pitched forward, collapsing directly onto Pei Yan.
“Mmph!”
The two tumbled into a tangled heap.
Chu Mingzhao landed fully on Pei Yan’s bare chest, her soft body pressed tightly against his rock-hard muscles. She could clearly feel the heat radiating from the man beneath her, scorching her skin until her face tingled with numbness.
And to make matters worse, her knee had somehow landed—utterly disastrously—on a place it had no business being. She could even feel, under her pressure, that it didn’t shrink back but instead pulsed with a more aggressive twitch.
The internal memes in Chu Mingzhao’s brain instantly exploded:
[AAAAHHHH! Help! What did I just knee? Is that... the dragonlord’s thing? I’m going to die, I’m absolutely going to die! I’ll be turned into a human husk and then fed to the dogs!]
Her system chimed in lazily:
[Ding—Detecting absurdly high intimacy levels. Po value grade determination: S-level (Tinder Ready).]
[Congratulations, host. You have earned +30 experience points. Current experience: 60/100. Just one step away from unlocking LV2 (Modify One Word).]
[Friendly reminder: The host’s current posture perfectly fits the classic trope of ‘the vicious female sidekick forcing herself on the male lead.’ It is recommended to maintain character and increase intensity.]
Increase the intensity, my ass!
Chu Mingzhao wanted to cry but had no tears.
Beneath her, Pei Yan stared fiercely at the face so close to his own.
Damn it.
Damn it all.
He wanted to kill her.
But his body acted as if bewitched—under the damnable pressure of her knee, a craving arose within him so intense he wished he could end himself.
“Chu Mingzhao...” he rasped from deep in his throat, a hoarse growl. “Get the hell... off of me!”
That low roar finally snapped Chu Mingzhao back to her senses. She scrambled to push herself up, only to forget that both of them were slick with greasy oil. As her palms pressed against Pei Yan’s chest, they slipped—she didn’t rise but instead crashed heavily back down.
This time, her ruby lips accidentally brushed against his bobbing Adam’s apple.
“Mmph!”
Pei Yan’s entire body shuddered violently. His fists clenched so tight that the veins on the backs of his hands bulged.
Chu Mingzhao: ...
If I’ve sinned, let the law punish me—not subject me to this endless friction against the dragonlord’s tender spot.
To salvage her crumbling vicious persona, Chu Mingzhao steeled herself. She gave up trying to get up.
Propping herself on one hand beside Pei Yan’s ear, she looked down at him from above and forced out a sneer dripping with mockery.
“Pei Yan, were you just giving orders to this lady?”
She reached out, maliciously tilting his chin, her tone frivolous and cold:
“You’re the one who pulled me down. And now you’re playing the chaste husband?”
Her gaze slowly drifted down to his embarrassingly prominent area. Chu Mingzhao clicked her tongue, her sarcasm maxed out.
“Your mouth says ‘get off,’ but your body doesn’t lie. Looks like spending too much time in the stables has infected you with a beggar’s disposition. Only this kind of treatment feels right, doesn’t it, Young Master Pei?”
Pei Yan’s breath caught in his throat.
He clenched his jaw so hard that a coppery taste spread through his mouth.
Never in his life had he endured such utter humiliation!
“Chu Mingzhao, you’d best kill me right now.”
Pei Yan closed his eyes, his chest heaving violently, his voice cold as if dragged from an icehouse.
“Because, as long as I still have a breath left…”
“As long as you still have a breath left, you’ll obediently play this lady’s dog.”
Chu Mingzhao cut him off icily.
