Qin Junyue’s heart pounded violently.
Twisted thoughts grew wildly in the dark like seeds.
‘The person I love is right here, right beside me…’
She stared at Song Ning’s profile, and flashes of the past began to flicker through her mind.
Her feelings for him had evolved from initial gratitude to admiration, then to dependence, and finally into something she couldn’t quite explain or understand.
He was the legitimate son of the Song Family and already had a Marriage Contract.
And what was she? ‘What am I? Just the daughter of a fallen military general who couldn’t even protect her own home.’
She wasn’t good enough for him; she knew that.
But tonight, in this moment, she stood right before him—only three steps away.
Qi Chuyao was passed out drunk, leaving only the three of them in the room. This might be her only chance.
Her only chance to get close to him, her only chance to touch him, and the only time she could do the things she could only dream of.
Her heart beat as loud as a war drum.
Qin Junyue tried her best to suppress her breathing. Her pulse throbbed in her ears, and she was terrified that Song Ning would hear it.
She channeled her Internal Power and quickly tapped several Acupoints on Qi Chuyao’s body.
Qi Chuyao’s breathing instantly became faint, gradually weakening until it was nearly silent.
As the other woman’s breathing faded, Qin Junyue’s own breath grew heavier, slowly taking the place of Qi Chuyao’s rhythm.
To Song Ning’s ears, it sounded as if only one person had been breathing in the room the entire time.
She looked down at Qi Chuyao. The girl’s face was pressed against the table, her brows slightly furrowed and her lips parted in a deep sleep.
The collar of her Wedding Dress was slightly open, revealing the moon-white Inner Garment underneath and a sliver of her fair neck. Her full curves were perfectly outlined by the dress.
“Qi Chuyao?!” Song Ning called out again.
Qin Junyue’s pupils constricted. Her throat moved as she gathered Internal Power in her vocal cords. She desperately tried to recall Qi Chuyao’s voice.
What did she sound like? It was usually slurred, a bit impatient, and tinged with drunkenness.
She opened her mouth and forced out a single word:
“Hmm?”
The voice was a bit raspy and muffled. She wasn’t sure if it sounded like her, but she had no other choice.
Song Ning didn’t suspect a thing.
“Fine, let’s go to bed.” He patted the bedsheets, his voice filled with helplessness. “Regardless, we’ve already come this far. We need to rest, don’t we? I’m not a Martial Artist; I don’t have your boundless energy.”
Sometimes, he truly envied those Martial Artists. Their energy levels increased significantly after cultivation, and their bodies became much stronger.
He wasn’t like them. He had been hungry for an entire day and didn’t even want to move.
Qin Junyue didn’t answer. She stood where she was, her gaze flickering between Song Ning and Qi Chuyao. She gritted her teeth. She didn’t care anymore.
First, she removed her Night-walking Suit.
Her movements were swift. As soon as she untied the sash, the outer robe slid down, revealing her form-fitting undergarments.
Her figure was slender and full, with smooth shoulders, a thin waist, and rounded hips that were slightly larger than Qi Chuyao’s.
Those hips were the part of her body she was most proud of.
Her skin glowed white under the candlelight, and the subtle lines of her muscles were visible—a firmness unique to those who had practiced martial arts for years.
She crouched down and began to strip Qi Chuyao of her Wedding Dress. Her hands paused for a moment when her fingers touched the bright red silk.
This was Qi Chuyao’s Wedding Dress. This was the garment she had worn to marry Song Ning today.
Qin Junyue took a deep breath and continued. The sash was untied, and the outer robe was pulled away.
Qi Chuyao’s body was as limp as a pile of cotton, allowing herself to be manipulated. Qin Junyue only removed the outer layer, leaving the inner clothes intact.
She shook out the crimson Wedding Dress and draped it over herself. The silk felt cold and smooth against her skin, sending a wave of goosebumps across her body.
‘Since I’ve decided to do this, I’m going all the way!’
‘If I had known, I would have brought my own wedding clothes,’ Qin Junyue grumbled internally, though her hands never stopped moving.
She put on the Wedding Dress, tied the sash, and straightened the collar. The brilliant red made her skin look even fairer.
Her high ponytail fell loose, cascading over her shoulders and adding a touch of charm to her appearance.
She propped Qi Chuyao up against the table, letting her continue her deep sleep.
Clearly, today was Qi Chuyao’s wedding, yet the one wearing the Wedding Dress now was Qin Junyue.
Qi Chuyao had done everything else: the engagement, the invitations, the ceremony, and the banquet. But for the very last step—the consummation—it would be Qin Junyue.
Her heart raced even faster.
Song Ning heard the rustle of clothes and knew his bride was undressing for bed.
He took off his shoes and began to untie his own sash. He gave up on the idea of eating; he would just eat when he woke up tomorrow.
He had been hungry for so long that he didn’t even feel the hunger anymore.
Seeing this, Qin Junyue moved even faster. ‘No, no… I can’t let him take off his wedding clothes.’ She liked seeing Song Ning in his bright red wedding attire!
With a wave of her hand, she unleashed her Internal Power. Pff, pff, pff.
Most of the candles in the room were extinguished, leaving only the two closest lamps flickering, their light casting intimate shadows on the walls.
Qin Junyue took a deep breath and walked forward with a steady gaze, grabbing Song Ning’s hand just as he was about to undress.
“What are you doing? It’s time for bed,” Song Ning said, sounding puzzled as he patted her hand.
The scent of alcohol wafted toward him. Qin Junyue had also drunk quite a bit tonight, and the smell of booze on her was identical to Qi Chuyao’s.
“What is it?” Song Ning suddenly became alert. “Weren’t you undressing for bed? Why are your clothes still on?”
Something was wrong. He had clearly heard the sound of clothes being removed earlier, so why did the fabric feel like a Wedding Dress? Was Qi Chuyao still wearing it?
Qin Junyue didn’t answer. She pressed her entire body against him. Her delicate frame leaned into his chest, soft and warm.
She grabbed his hand and guided it. First to the collar. His fingers brushed against the bright red silk—it was definitely the material of a Wedding Dress.
But as he continued… Song Ning’s fingers stiffened.
“Qi Chuyao, I didn’t realize you were this kind of person?” His tone held a hint of surprise, mixed with a bit of wry amusement.
So she was only wearing a Wedding Dress over her skin. He hadn’t expected her to be so bold.
He had thought they would simply go to sleep without any incidents, but he hadn’t expected Qi Chuyao to be in the mood for this. And she certainly knew how to play the part.
Qin Junyue stared at the face inches away from her. Those white eyes were directed right at her. There was no focus, yet it felt as if he were looking into her soul. She could feel his breath fluttering against her face—warm and smelling faintly of soap.
She guided his hand. Her heart thudded against her ribs, feeling as though it might leap out of her chest.
This was the closest she had ever been to him in her life. In this moment, they might get even closer—close enough to be inseparable, close enough to become one.
Uneasily, she glanced toward the table. In the dim room, the candlelight flickered.
Qi Chuyao was slumped over the table, her breathing so faint it was nearly inaudible. Her face was turned toward them, her eyes closed, seeing nothing.