Chapter Fifty-Three: Lust and Caution

Drinking to bolster courage—Lin Yang found a deeper meaning in this phrase at this very moment. Staring at Tang Yixue, who was clearly tipsy and dreamy, her cheeks flushed and alluring, clad in revealing attire, Lin Yang had already been longing for her.

Since childhood, he had always trailed behind Tang Yixue, playing house, and she had always occupied the role of goddess in his heart. As he grew older, he countless times fantasized about her as the object of his desires. Now, with her tempting him so openly, casting coquettish glances his way and seductively posing under the influence of alcohol, Lin Yang, in the prime of youth, found it impossible to restrain himself.

Impulse is a demon—how true that is. At this moment, Lin Yang wished he could be that dreaded demon himself.

He drained the last of his cigarette in one determined breath, stubbed it out in the ashtray, grabbed the half-full bottle of wine on the table, and gulped it down until not a drop remained, tossing it aside with the bravado of a hero from ancient times.

The reason Lin Yang wasn’t fond of alcohol stemmed from his peculiar body’s mild allergy to it; even a little could leave him numb. He’d suffered as a child and thus kept his guard up against alcohol, which was also why he’d developed a smoking habit.

Alcohol’s effects came quickly. After half a bottle of wine, his cheeks burned, a fiery sensation spread through his body, surging to his head—a heat radiating from within.

Like a lion intoxicated, Lin Yang savagely pinned the drunken Tang Yixue beneath him on the sofa.

Though his mind retained a shred of clarity, after a storm of passionate kisses and caresses, he scooped Tang Yixue into his arms and carried her straight to the bedroom on the left.

To act, or not to act—a fool would hesitate.

With no reservations, driven by impulse, Lin Yang took that wondrous step from boyhood into manhood.

He pushed open the door, locked it behind him, strode to the bed, tossed Tang Yixue onto the mattress, and stripped off his clothes with feverish urgency, pouncing on her like a hungry wolf.

His movements were rough, and under his hands, her slip dress was torn away, leaving Tang Yixue bare as a jade lamb in the blink of an eye.

When they were finally exposed to each other, Lin Yang was enthralled by the sight before him. His touch grew gentler as he kissed every inch of Tang Yixue’s skin, savoring its silkiness—a shudder ran through them both, as if electrified.

As Lin Yang prepared to make his move, the frightened Tang Yixue murmured softly, “Slow, slow, take it slow.”

But her words came too late. Lin Yang’s desire had already surged forward, plunging deeply into the pool of blossoms.

With Tang Yixue’s cry of pain as her innocence was lost, the bedroom became steeped in spring’s fervor.

It was their first taste of forbidden fruit; young and vigorous, Lin Yang swept her up again and again, sending Tang Yixue, newly made a woman, to wave after wave of ecstasy.

After such exertion, only when they were utterly spent did they finally pause. Two hours had slipped away, and the sky outside was dark, with only a few stars shining.

Naked, nestled against Lin Yang’s sturdy chest, Tang Yixue—once queenly—now appeared utterly feminine, tracing circles on his chest, her face radiant with happiness. Lin Yang, whose constitution was far stronger than most thanks to his internal cultivation, could have continued for hours more had Tang Yixue not been thoroughly exhausted.

After their sweat-drenched encounter, the effects of alcohol had dissipated. Holding his beloved close, Lin Yang gently stroked the rose-scented strands of her hair. With the voice of a man, he promised, “Yixue, you belong to me for life.”

His powerful voice, naked words of devotion, moved Tang Yixue deeply. There was no ecstatic shout, only a gentle kiss—a kiss that seemed to halt time and fill the dim room with radiant light.

Spurred by the atmosphere, Lin Yang’s hormones surged anew. He rolled over, once more pressing Tang Yixue beneath him, spring light spilling forth, unable to resist another charge.

Ah! Barely tasting the forbidden fruit, Tang Yixue was ridden countless times by Lin Yang’s unrestrained ardor. Though her body was strong, she was worn out, and the vigorous movements sent sharp pains through her lower body—a pain so intense it was nearly unbearable.

Seeing Tang Yixue’s furrowed brow, Lin Yang panicked, quickly moving aside, cradling her face twisted in pain, and asked with concern, “Yixue, what’s wrong?” He studied her alluring body, but his worry for her health banished any wicked thoughts.

Tang Yixue was pleased by his concern, though too shy to answer.

Lin Yang, no fool himself, observed her hands covering a certain spot and suddenly realized—he’d forgotten she was tasting the forbidden fruit for the first time. The marks on the sheets were proof enough.

Bowing his head, gently stroking her forehead, Lin Yang apologized, “Yixue, I’m sorry I hurt you.” As he spoke, his other hand pressed against her smooth back, transmitting a gentle warmth to soothe her body, worn out from their passionate struggle.

“What is this? It feels wonderful,” Tang Yixue gasped, feeling sudden relief, raising her head to look at Lin Yang with curiosity.

“This is internal energy,” Lin Yang replied with a smile, guiding the warmth to her wounded lower body.

“This is internal energy? From the ‘Thirteen Heavenly Blade’ cultivation you practice?” Tang Yixue, intrigued by Lin Yang’s secret, straightened her posture and gazed at him intently.

He’d mentioned it before, but she’d laughed it off; he was young then, had not yet mastered even the first blade, and internal energy seemed fanciful. The topic was dismissed without debate.

“Yes, that’s internal energy. I haven’t cultivated much yet, so it’s limited. That’s why I can only treat four people a day,” Lin Yang explained, though he’d meant to add something about his limited supply of elixirs—now resolved.

Tang Yixue didn’t pursue the topic further, instead burying her head in Lin Yang’s chest, listening to his strong heartbeat.

“Yixue, may I tell you something?” Lin Yang hesitated, then spoke in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

“What is it?” At this moment of happiness, Tang Yixue was easygoing, not noticing Lin Yang’s odd expression.

“Well… that girl Cold Ni Ni has come to Golden Sea.” Lin Yang’s voice dropped even lower, as if fearing Tang Yixue’s reaction.

“Oh, you mean Ni Ni? Haven’t you two always lived together? I’ve known for a while.” Tang Yixue spoke casually, showing no sign of anger, but her words grew stranger—there was only one implication, odd, “So? Are you thinking of taking that girl for yourself?”

The words struck Lin Yang like thunder. He felt defeated by Tang Yixue’s assumption. Wasn’t he merely stating that Cold Ni Ni had come to Golden Sea? Wasn’t she living under the same roof? Wasn’t she always tempting him? But…

What did her presence have to do with whether he accepted Cold Ni Ni or not? Women—so sensitive.

What could he say to clarify? Lin Yang chose silence, refusing to debate, leaving Tang Yixue with the sense of hitting cotton with her punch.

Lin Yang felt as if he’d brought trouble upon himself. Why mention Cold Ni Ni at all? This beautiful spring moment ruined by a careless remark—he was annoyed, and his craving for nicotine returned. He rolled out of bed, rummaged through a pile of clothes on the floor, found his cigarette beneath Tang Yixue’s bra, and lit up in frustration.

He smoked too quickly, and the room was soon filled with acrid smoke.

“Yang, what’s wrong? Are you upset?” Seeing his displeasure, Tang Yixue pulled a red blanket from the bed to cover her naked body. She wasn’t an exhibitionist; though she’d shared passion with Lin Yang, being fully exposed still made her shy.

“You already knew,” Lin Yang replied, his voice heavy. Because of Cold Ni Ni, he’d spent so much effort, fearing Tang Yixue’s misunderstanding. He’d never brought Cold Ni Ni to any of Tang Yixue’s gatherings, lied and placated the girl, but now he felt as if he’d deceived himself—no wonder he was irritable.

Tang Yixue hadn’t lied. On the first night Cold Ni Ni came to Golden Sea, her informants had told her, but since Lin Yang hadn’t spoken up, she wasn’t foolish enough to confront him—after all, their relationship wasn’t official then.

“So you know she ran away from home?” Lin Yang stubbed out his cigarette, looked up, and asked, though his mood had improved.

Tang Yixue nodded in silence. Wrapped in the blanket, she got out of bed and walked to Lin Yang, but the pain in her lower body made her limp. The movement aggravated the pain she’d managed to ease.

Seeing this, Lin Yang rushed to support her, gently scolding, “Where does it hurt? Why not stay in bed? Why get up?”

Tang Yixue simply grunted and leaned quietly against him.

Just then, as they were about to indulge in affection, a sudden ringtone shattered the moment. Lin Yang gently laid Tang Yixue on the bed, then rummaged through the messy pile of clothes on the floor to find his phone.

After some effort, he finally retrieved it from his pants pocket. Seeing the caller ID, it was Cold Ni Ni. He glanced awkwardly at Tang Yixue, who was sitting on the bed, curious, and helplessly mouthed, “Speak of the devil…”