For a blind person, some things were actually simpler, like rubbing Qin Junyue’s face to find a position.
He reached out, feeling his way forward.
His fingertips touched a patch of soft skin.
It was warm and delicate, like “Qi Chuyao’s” cheek.
Song Ning’s fingers paused on that face before slowly spreading out, his hands cupping her cheeks.
His palms pressed against her face, his fingertips touching her earlobes, and his pads stroking the curve of her cheekbones.
He felt her very carefully, like a blind person trying to memorize a face.
‘So this is what she looks like.’
He outlined the contours in his mind—the curve of her cheeks, the line of her jaw, and the size of her earlobes. This face was sharper than he had imagined.
He thought Qi Chuyao’s face would be softer and rounder. But to the touch, it felt more defined; she must look quite spirited.
Qin Junyue knelt before him, motionless. She kept her mouth shut and held her breath, allowing those slightly cool hands to wander over her face.
His fingertips slid from her cheekbones to the bridge of her nose, then down to her philtrum, his movements light and gentle.
Her heart beat so fast it felt like it would leap from her chest.
Happiness. A massive wave of dizziness and surreal bliss washed over her like a tide.
She had never been this close to him before—close enough to smell the faint scent of soap on his fingertips, close enough to feel the warmth of his palms. Qin Junyue’s tears almost fell.
Then she suddenly thought of something, and her heart sank. She remembered seeing Song Ning touch Song Youyi’s face long ago.
That was a long time ago. Song Youyi had walked in from the courtyard just as she was visiting Song Ning.
He had smiled and said, “Youyi has grown taller again,” then reached out just like this, cupping her face and saying, “You’ve grown so much; you look different than when you were a child.”
Song Youyi had let Song Ning touch her face with a smile, letting him confirm her features and changes.
‘Had he also touched Qi Chuyao’s face?’
The thought was like a bucket of ice water poured over her head.
Qin Junyue’s heart plummeted from the clouds to the abyss. Her body froze, and she even forgot to breathe.
If he had touched Qi Chuyao’s face, he would definitely be able to tell the difference.
Their facial structures were different, their bones were different, and even the texture of their skin was different.
How could someone as attentive as him not notice?
Then in the future… She didn’t dare think further. Her gaze fixed on Song Ning’s face, staring into those white eyes.
Those eyes were slightly lowered, their lashes casting shallow shadows under the candlelight, his expression focused and serious.
He was putting his heart into memorizing “Qi Chuyao’s” face.
Qin Junyue’s heart began to beat again. ‘He has never touched Qi Chuyao’s face.’
This thought was so absurd she found it laughable.
The two had been engaged since childhood. Even if Qi Chuyao disliked him, their families had associated for so many years; they met during every festival. How could he have never touched her face?
But if that wasn’t the case, how could he not notice?
Qin Junyue’s heart gradually calmed.
Looking at Song Ning’s focused expression and his gentle movements, she suddenly felt it was both heartbreaking and ridiculous.
‘Had she really never let him touch her even once?’
She recalled the things Qi Chuyao had said: “a blind man,” “he’s not worthy of me,” and “I don’t want to get married.”
Qi Chuyao didn’t even want to look at him twice, so how could she have let him touch her face? Qin Junyue’s eyes suddenly stung.
Song Ning’s fingers continued to roam her face. His pads slid over the tip of her nose, over the shallow groove of her philtrum, and landed on her lips.
Slightly parted, warm, and soft lips.
His fingers stopped at her lips, finding the position. In the Wedding Ritual, this was the hardest part of a woman.
Her teeth.
He paused as if hesitating, then lightly probed inside.
Qin Junyue trembled. In that moment, she felt as if her soul were about to fly out of her body.
She opened her mouth. The moment he touched the tip of her tongue, Qin Junyue’s mind went blank.
She couldn’t think of anything; she didn’t care about anything.
She only knew that right now, at this very moment, her White Moonlight was touching her face and expressing loyalty—his loyalty to her.
This was a Wedding Ritual meant only for the wedding night. This was something Qi Chuyao should have been doing.
But Qi Chuyao was slumped on the table, unconscious from drink. The one doing this was her.
Qin Junyue’s beautiful eyes instinctively darted to the side.
Qi Chuyao was leaning over the table, her face pressed against the surface, mouth slightly open, breathing faintly.
Her clothes were wrinkled, her hair was a mess, and her face was stained with wine—she looked wretched.
As for the wedding attire, it was draped over her own body.
Qin Junyue looked away, a surge of unidentifiable emotions rising in her heart. Guilt. Excitement. And a tiny, secret, unspeakable pleasure.
‘What you don’t cherish, I will cherish for you. What you don’t want to do, I will do for you. What you don’t want, I want.’
Her teeth closed gently, but with a touch of possessive intimacy.
Song Ning trembled slightly, his ears burning. Even though he couldn’t see and he was with his “wife,” this sort of thing was still a bit uncomfortable.
“Is this enough?” he asked softly, naturally patting “Qi Chuyao’s” head.
Patting heads was his way of showing closeness; he had done it to Xia Ling, Xia Shuang, and Song Youyi.
His fingertips brushed through her hair, touching the warmth of her scalp.
It was supposed to be a moment of expressing loyalty to Qi Chuyao. On the wedding night, the groom would kneel before the bride to show submission and belonging.
This was the most intimate part of the wedding customs in the Great Qian, symbolizing that from now on, this person belonged to you, to be taken as you pleased.
But at this moment, the one kneeling was Song Ning, and the one receiving it was Qin Junyue.
Qi Chuyao was sleeping on the table. Qin Junyue was possessing him on the bed.
Qin Junyue couldn’t speak right now, but she didn’t need to.
‘Fortunately, I am a Martial Artist,’ Qin Junyue thought, secretly relieved.
Otherwise, wouldn’t it be even more embarrassing to choke on her wedding night?
But it didn’t matter to her; as a Second-grade Master, even swallowing a sword would be easy.
“I’m telling you,” Song Ning’s voice tightened with a hint of cautious appeasement, “we should talk things through. Don’t be impulsive.”
Seeing that “Qi Chuyao” wouldn’t let go, he suddenly felt a bit uneasy.
Song Ning suddenly felt that the ancients in this Female-dominated World were quite wise.
This Wedding Ritual was indeed dangerous; he wondered if anyone had ever actually been injured during it…
Qi Chuyao was proud and impulsive, and she had drunk so much. If she really—
He instinctively wanted to pull back but didn’t dare use force, so he could only freeze there with a look of tension and helplessness.
Watching him like that, Qin Junyue couldn’t help but chuckle softly. She could no longer hold back.
She suddenly rose and pinned Song Ning down onto the bed.
Song Ning’s back hit the bedding with a dull thud. Before he could react, he felt a warm, wine-scented body press down on him, enveloping him completely.
“You—mmph!”
His mouth was blocked.
Qin Junyue kissed him, her kiss almost ravaging as she pinned him down firmly. A Martial Artist’s physique was fully on display at this moment.
Her strength was astonishing. Song Ning struggled twice but couldn’t move at all.
His arms were pinned to both sides of the pillow, his knees held down by her legs; he was like someone nailed to the bed, unable to budge.
“Wait—wait a minute,” Song Ning managed to squeeze out a few words between kisses.
His words were swallowed again.
It was over. He wouldn’t get any peaceful sleep tonight. Would he even be able to get out of bed tomorrow?
Song Ning’s mind went hazy from the kissing.