Chapter Thirty-Five: Together?

Mandarin ducks entwined, twin fish swimming side by side—there was a beauty, delicate as a drifting willow.

It was a night of bewilderment and madness.

Ye Han felt as if he had waded through a dream of unrestrained pleasure, an experience unlike any he had ever known, as though he had soared among the clouds.

When he awoke, it was nearly noon, gentle sunlight pouring through the window to illuminate the entire Scripture Pavilion.

His head was splitting with pain. He reached up to press his temples, intending to rise, yet a groan of suffering escaped him.

For reasons unknown, his body felt weak and limp, as if he had been drugged.

A soft, feminine moan suddenly sounded beside him as he moved.

Ye Han froze.

Wasn’t I supposed to... last night—

Damn it!

He couldn’t help but curse, memories of the previous night flooding back with a vengeance.

He turned his head in alarm, only to be greeted by a vision of spring.

“You... you...!”

Luan Shuangyu opened her dreamy eyes, their gazes met—her large eyes locked onto his, bewildered and embarrassed.

Feeling the unfamiliar sensation within her own body, Luan Shuangyu’s cheeks flushed crimson. She stretched out a delicate foot, mortified and furious, and kicked Ye Han in the stomach.

The sound of a cork popping echoed clearly.

Awkwardness immediately filled the Scripture Pavilion.

Ye Han glanced at himself with embarrassment, hastily covering himself with his hands.

On the other side, Luan Shuangyu clutched her abdomen in shock, covering her mouth, the scattered clothes and the responses of her body making it painfully clear this was no dream.

Images of last night, fragmented and vivid, resurfaced in her mind.

She vaguely remembered that she had been the one to revoke the borrowed abilities from her homeland, thus allowing him to succeed.

At first, he couldn’t even break through her defenses!

Luan Shuangyu found it hard to believe.

What on earth had she been thinking at the time?

She didn’t dare dwell on it, for what had happened was too shameful to speak aloud.

“You... why haven’t you left?!”

Luan Shuangyu raised her snowy swan neck, her cheeks burning as she scolded him, all the while secretly searching for her shredded clothing.

Ye Han noticed but said nothing.

“Well... um...” Ye Han scratched his head in frustration, glancing at the torn rags beside him. “Maybe... you could wear mine?”

He awkwardly pulled out the fabric beneath him, cautiously offering it to her.

He had intended to kill her last night—how did things end up like this?

Ye Han was utterly confused.

Could it be that the remnants of his former self hadn’t faded?

Yes! It must be the old consciousness interfering!

Otherwise, how could his own body betray his control?

How could he have committed such disgraceful acts!

Ye Han tried to find excuses for himself.

Yet the reality before him felt utterly unconvincing.

Bracing himself, Ye Han asked, “Are you... are you alright?”

The words slipped out, and he immediately felt his mouth twitch, wishing he could slap himself.

How could she possibly be alright?

He was touching on the very thing that shouldn’t be mentioned!

Luan Shuangyu lay frozen on the ground, a complex expression flickering in her eyes.

She silently took the clothes Ye Han handed to her, turning away and exposing her jade-like back.

“Do you think I’m alright now?” Luan Shuangyu’s voice trembled.

How could he be so shameless?

After all he had done last night, did he not know?

He hadn’t stopped until she lost consciousness, only now had he withdrawn, and yet he still had the audacity to ask if she was alright?

---

Luan Shuangyu had never felt so aggrieved; her eyes reddened, a mist of tears brimming beneath her lashes.

“I... I suppose I’m alright,” she replied, facing the flawless curves before him, Ye Han’s scalp tingled as he managed a response.

Secretly, he used his origin power to restore a bit of strength.

He had no choice—the battle last night had been long, and his body was still recovering.

He feared that if this continued, Luan Shuangyu might very well kill him.

“Alright? Ha!” Luan Shuangyu laughed at herself, her tone cold. “Just go.”

She wasn’t one to wallow in resentment—what was done was done. Her heart was in turmoil, but she didn’t want to drag it out.

She just wanted some peace and solitude.

Even Ye Han, no matter how dense, could sense the unusual tension in her mood.

He glanced at the conspicuous red stain on the floor, feeling equally conflicted.

He hadn’t killed her, but he had done this.

Now, to kill her while she was weak—he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Maybe I could—”

“Get out!” Luan Shuangyu cut him off before he could finish, lowering her head and pleading softly, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

As she gradually accepted the reality, the sudden change proved too much for her emotions to bear, bitterness and pain shadowed her face.

Ye Han felt awkward, speaking gently, “Perhaps we could talk...”

He felt very much like a scoundrel.

No, worse—a degenerate.

Nowadays, scoundrels have higher standards.

A scoundrel, aside from not loving her, could fulfill all her fantasies about men.

Ye Han glanced down at himself—aside from being somewhat handsome, he didn’t meet any of the basic criteria.

“What is there to talk about?” Luan Shuangyu sniffed, turning to glare at him coldly. “Are you trying to get me to give up resistance, so you can kill me?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Ye Han quickly waved his hands.

“Then leave!” Luan Shuangyu, clutching her clothes, looked deathly pale. “If you don’t go, I’ll kill you right now!”

“Alright.”

Seeing her resolve, Ye Han abandoned his efforts, slowly standing and wrapping a ragged piece of fabric around his waist.

“Take care of yourself.”

After covering himself as best he could, Ye Han gritted his teeth and teleported out of the Scripture Pavilion.

Inside, Luan Shuangyu sat clutching her clothes, staring at the spot where Ye Han had vanished.

“Shameless!”

After a long while, she seemed to come to her senses, hurling the clothes at the space he had left in frustration.

“Next time, I’ll kill you!”

Her voice was thick with tears, arms wrapped around her knees, her forehead buried in her arms as she sobbed quietly.

“Hey, I knew you’d be upset—maybe you’d like to change into something else?”

Just as Luan Shuangyu lost herself in grief, Ye Han suddenly reappeared, carrying a clean set of women’s clothes.

After leaving earlier, he realized that, given her status in Xi Yuan, wearing a male disciple’s attire would be inappropriate.

So he teleported to the Moon Sect Master’s Peak, rummaged through her room, and brought a set of clothes.

He hadn’t expected to catch her at such a vulnerable moment.

Ye Han stood awkwardly, unsure whether to offer the clothes or not.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave!” Luan Shuangyu lifted her tear-stained face, glaring at him through blurred eyes. “Do you really think I wouldn’t kill you?”

“I know you could!”

Ye Han braced himself and approached her, squatting down to unfold the clothes before her.

“If you want to kill me, at least dress first.”

He ignored the alluring sight before him, his eyes filled with helplessness.

“Raise your arms!”

Ye Han arranged the clothes, not waiting for her approval, grabbing her arms and slipping them into the sleeves.

Luan Shuangyu didn’t resist, her consciousness seeming hollow, letting Ye Han dress her as he wished.

---

“Here, the other arm.”

Ye Han helped her into the clothes without further ado.

Once she was fully dressed, he casually removed the makeshift covering from his waist and put on the disciple’s attire in front of her.

“Rogue!” Luan Shuangyu choked out.

“You can’t call it that.”

Ye Han twisted his waist, then composed himself. “Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?”

“You—”

“I know, next time you’ll kill me.”

Ye Han interrupted her firmly, holding out his hand. “After today, perhaps?”

Luan Shuangyu stared blankly at his outstretched hand.

After a long silence, she reluctantly placed her hand in his.

Ye Han pulled her up from the floor with a strong grip.

“Ah!”

Standing suddenly, Luan Shuangyu’s legs gave way, her body tipping backward.

She had forgotten to use her origin power to restore her strength, her body still weak and soft.

“Careful!”

Ye Han caught her quickly, letting her lean against his shoulder.

This time, he behaved himself.

“Hmph!”

Luan Shuangyu snorted, used her origin power to recover some strength, then pushed his shoulder away.

“Do we—do we as Bound Ones need to eat?” she asked quietly, sniffing.

She had always relied on her origin power to keep her body at its peak.

Aside from occasionally drinking water, she had hardly ever eaten.

“Generally, we don’t need to,” Ye Han smiled, pointing to his stomach. “But wouldn’t it be a shame not to feed it?”

“What?”

Seeing Ye Han gesture at his stomach, Luan Shuangyu’s face turned pale with fright.

“No, isn’t it said that the odds for Bound Ones—that—is very low?”

Her voice trembled, hands clutching her belly in disbelief.

With her senses, she could still feel a trace of moisture inside.

Though her body had recovered with origin power, some fluid lingered.

“Uh...”

Watching her panic, Ye Han rubbed his brow in exasperation.

He stepped closer, gripping her shoulders and leaning in to gaze into her watery eyes. “I meant my stomach—my digestive tract!”

As he spoke, he patted his belly heavily.

“Oh, that’s good.”

Realizing her misunderstanding, Luan Shuangyu let out a breath of relief.

Ye Han breathed in her faint orchid scent, feeling slightly intoxicated.

Luan Shuangyu noticed his reaction, frowned, and pushed him aside.

“Sorry,” Ye Han apologized, rubbing his nose in embarrassment.

“If you don’t mind—shall we go together?”

He offered his hand, cautiously.

He couldn’t just walk out step by step with her.

Teleportation was so much faster.

“Mm.”

Luan Shuangyu wrinkled her delicate nose, placing her hand in his palm.

A flash of light, and the Scripture Pavilion was empty, the two figures gone without a trace.