Legend of Fu Yao

That was Meng Fuyao’s final thought before dropping to the area under the table.

Everything was spinning.

The dark red curtains were spinning, the ivory couches were spinning, the sparkly beaded curtains were spinning…

Even Yuan Zhaoxu’s unreasonably beautiful face was spinning.

Meng Fuyao closed her eyes midway, attempting as hard as she could to grasp that spinning beauty amid a messy pile of items. Yet, her body was as soft as cotton, and she was unable to catch it. She muttered between sighs, “Darn… not again…”

Sleeves ruffled the next moment, followed by a whiff of faint fragrance as if someone had sat down beside her. “Not again..?” a low, gentle voice sounded.

A fair, slightly cool, finger reached forward to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. She then felt a warm, scented towel hugging her face, its temperature perfect. The sweat that had gathered on her forehead was wiped off, leaving a tingly sensation on her skin when the midnight breeze blew in. She could almost feel her pores opening up to embrace it. She let out a satisfying sigh, fondly grabbing onto the hand that was about to leave her face and rubbing it against her own hand, mumbling, “…I can’t have what I want…”

“What do you want?” the voice floated dreamily within her head, causing her to sink further into ecstasy.

“I want…” Meng Fuyao murmured softly, her words unclear from thirst. They were so slurred that the person beside her had to lean forward and closer to her lips.

What he hadn’t expected was for Meng Fuyao to whip her head around, accurately landing her tender red lips right onto his.

Their lips brushed lightly and unintentionally, but it felt as though an electric arc had risen from the horizon and exited the reign of time and space, arriving deep within their bodies and sending shockwaves right through their rippling hearts.

It felt so soft yet agitating, so still yet stormy.

For a moment Yuan Zhaoxu turned stiff, but he gradually loosened up and smiled. He extended a finger to caress Meng Fuyao’s smooth and hot face, moving it along her beautiful brows, eyes, nose, lips…

Meng Fuyao unconsciously mumbled throughout his touch, still basking in the warmth and joy his lips had brought her. Yuan Zhaoxu’s light strokes tickled her, evoking a bout of giggles. She clasped both arms around his neck, and his soft lips zoomed steadily into sight. She pulled him in and bit on them.

She did not stop there. With her eyes closed, she went on to pinch his cheek, pulling it back and forth, mumbling, “Why do you always win..? Not fun. Can you lose at something?”

From being bitten to being pulled, Yuan Zhaoxu had fallen into a state of confusion and fascination. He raised a finger up to the corner of his mouth, its fairness enhanced by the blooming red color of his lips. In spite of them being slightly swollen, he half-smiled while observing the drunken girl in front of him. “Yes.”

“Wha…what?”

Yuan Zhaoxu’s smile deepened without answering. He held her hand down before covering her with a quilt. He opened his mouth after a long while, his gaze lingering on her face.

The moon outside the window looked at this moment like a gentle plum flower, and it was coupled with the babbling stream flowing from the rockery and into the jade-clear waters. The moon’s reflection, visible through the ripples, resembled that of a beautiful young girl.

The night was quiet and peaceful.

Yuan Zhaoxu’s voice was low and cushy, no different from the occasional and gentle breeze that passed through the window slits.

“This answer… you’ll get to it one day.”

Meng Fuyao knew not where the breeze came from, but she was swaying along with it… there seemed to be an ancient temple located on top of a faraway mountain, but it vanished as soon as it appeared… her body was limp, and she got to see a beautifully woven mattress… it was misty… she was underwater…

An aged hand reached out… low voice and pitiful sighs… she caught a glimpse of purple light seeping into a dusky, remote space… fear took over her, extreme fear… a blade ray struck, exploding in brightness, and mild features of a face could be seen amid it… drifting the next moment… like a dandelion being blown across the highest of mountains… landing on her face, tickling her ever so lightly.

‘Tickles…’

Meng Fuyao raised a finger to brush the itchy spot ––– ‘Ah, why so ticklish?’

She opened her eyes slowly and was greeted by a big white fluff.

It was a bum rubbing against her cheek, accompanied by a short fluffy tail that shook incessantly, brushing across every inch of her face.

Meng Fuyao lazily pushed it aside, cursing hazily, “Don’t leave any hair on my face.”

Then, she closed her eyes for a while more but got increasingly doubtful. Would Yuan Bao care about her enough to wake her up?

She then felt something sticky on her face, and it did not smell pleasant. She swiped a finger across it, and a dubious, slightly yellowish substance became visible on her fingertip.

“What is this?” asked Meng Fuyao with half-opened eyes.

Lord Yuan Bao sat on a table far away, looking at her with a vaguely vulgar expression in his eyes.

Meng Fuyao sat up, still giddy from the wine, and prepared to wash her face when the door opened suddenly. Yuan Zhaoxu entered with his usual glorious aura, while he was followed by two lady servants.

He smiled at Meng Fuyao, and then at Lord Yuan Bao, who had attempted to flee the moment he walked in.

“Cai Xiuer mentioned that you ran off after defecating and she hadn’t gotten the chance to wipe your bum. Why were you in such a rush?”

Defecating… unwiped… that substance…

‘Did this fellow use my face as his toilet paper? For him to wipe his stinky ass?’

“Ah!” she boomed, springing up and searching for her dagger. “You’re dead meat.”

By then, Lord Yuan Bao had already made a dash for the window. Meng Fuyao waved her arm, sending the blanket flying forward and smashing three vases on the way. Nevertheless, Lord Yuan Bao was slightly faster and had evaded her attack.

Still boiling in anger Meng Fuyao jumped off the bed, ready to make chase, but was stopped by Yuan Zhaoxu.

“Careful.”

She immediately felt her body weight lifted completely – Yuan Zhaoxu had swooped her up and back onto the bed in a split second. In the same moment, she realized that she was dressed in sleeping attire, consisting of a singlet and underpants, that wasn’t appropriate to be seen in public.

Her singlet was alluringly tight-fitting while her underpants were oversized and cooling.

Attire like that would be considered insolent even in modern times. Unfortunately, the situation took a turn for the worse when a certain someone shamelessly wrapped his arm around her waist, leaving a burning sensation on her skin wherever he touched.

There was a burning flame in Yuan Zhaoxu’s eyes as well. The girl before him had a body to die for. It was plump yet delicate, and she had a slender neck and legs that went on for days to match. There was nothing to nitpick since no parts of her body had not been exquisitely carved. Not only did the strange clothes had not robbed her beauty, but they had also actually accentuated her curves at all the right places. While appreciating the arc of her breasts and the spotlessly fair legs under her oversized shorts, Yuan Zhaoxu could also feel the softness and flexibility of her bare waist.

With regard to a body so fresh and pure, it wasn’t a wonder that even the calm and honorable man couldn’t help but let out a somewhat hurried breath. Her beauty had struck him head on, as a warm gust of wind on a winter night would, and he was enticed.

He smiled gently, grazing a finger across his own lips as if reminiscing about a fond memory.

Meng Fuyao caught the expression on his face but couldn’t understand his action. Of course, she had no recollection of how she had sexually assaulted him, but it did not stop her face from turning red. She quickly reached a palm out to push him, but before she could fall onto the ground, he caught her again.

At that moment, his eyes had already cleared up. “There are fragments on the ground. Be careful.”

In spite of his calm tone, his eyes righteously scanned over every bare part of Meng Fuyao’s skin, instantly prompting her to slip underneath her quilt.

“Leave, leave, I need to change,” she waved forcefully.

Yuan Zhaoxu laughed and took his leave. As his sleek silhouette drifted pass the window, a light tap could be heard from outside. Next, the window panel was lifted with a clap, and a ball of fur was tossed in.

“You’re tarnishing my reputation by sneaking around outside. Do it openly if you want to look,” a voice floated from the outside, so noble, charming, and calm.

The pitiful furball had been betrayed by his owner once more. His eyes opened wide in midair, but there was nothing he could do except to allow the momentum to fling him toward Meng Fuyao’s bed. On it laid his mortal enemy with a sinister smile on her face and wide open arms, waiting for his descent.

Images of the ten biggest tortures flashed past his mind…

“Squeak, squeak!”

A desperate screech burst forth from the noble little creature as Meng Fuyao wiped off the mucus, built up from the tears of laughter, and rubbed it on his snow-white fur…

Early in the morning, the streets outside of King De’s residence were empty and still.

The sunray hit the southern perimeter wall, and on it rustled a clutter of grass before a head popped up midway.

The individual looked left and right before noticing that the window shutters below were shut tight. Figuring that the owner was probably still sound asleep, the individual heaved a sigh of relief and climbed over.

Yes, this individual was Meng Fuyao. Upon waking up in the Canglan imperial residence, she had immediately rushed back, in order not to have Yao Xun and Zong Yue think that she had gone missing. However, before leaving, she recalled and mentioned about the few child prostitutes, only to be told by Yuan Zhaoxu that he had a reason and that she needn’t think about it. With that said, there was nothing else Meng Fuyao could do.

Before her other foot was over the wall, she heard a peaceful voice call out, “Door’s open.”

There wasn’t a need for her to climb the wall.

Meng Fuyao felt embarrassed for getting drunk outside and not returning home, but she had to pass through Zong Yue’s abode in order to enter her own room. It was exactly why she had chosen this wall route in the first place. Unfortunately, her presence had been detected.