285: Chapter 285 Tonight, You Can Only Be Mine

Mu Mansion was decorated with lanterns and festoons.

From the main gate of Luo City to the main hall of Mu Mansion, the white jade boulevard was packed with disciples and citizens who had heard the news.

Hundreds of Mu Mansion battle flags with black backgrounds and gold patterns fluttered in the wind on the city walls, standing side by side with the black flame flags of Spirit Hall.

Mandala had ordered the entire city to be cleaned three days in advance, even scrubbing the moss at the base of the city walls until it was spotless.

When the procession appeared over Luo City, the entire city erupted in cheers.

Hun Feng flew at the very front, his black robes billowing in the wind.

Behind him was the white horse carrying Qing Yanjing, followed by Mu Chen, who was lying on the back of a flying beast and waving to the crowd, and Luo Li, who sat quietly beside him.

Nine Sovereigns led the Undying Bird Guard to protect the flanks, while Old Ancestor Xuantian brought up the rear.

Dozens of Qing Branch disciples followed at the very end, looking at this unfamiliar city and the cheering crowds with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

Mandala led the senior management of Mu Mansion to welcome them at the main gate.

She remained in her petite and delicate form, her ink-green long hair brushing slightly in the morning breeze, and the air of authority she exuded while standing with her hands behind her back made everyone present hold their breath subconsciously.

Standing behind her were Elder Ling Xi, Sovereign Tianjiu, Sovereign Sleep, Sovereign Spirit Eye, and the other Nine Sovereigns, as well as thousands of Mu Mansion disciples.

When Hun Feng landed, Mandala stepped forward and cupped her fists in a salute: "Welcome back, Hall Master."

Hun Feng waved his hand and stepped aside, revealing the plain white figure behind him: "The protagonist today is not me. This is Mu Chen's mother, the former Supreme Elder of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan. From today on, she will reside in Mu Mansion."

Qing Yanjing dismounted from the white horse, her plain white robes swaying gently in the morning breeze.

After a few days of recuperation, her complexion had recovered by seven or eight parts, her waist was slender, and her figure was tall and curvaceous; even the simplest plain white robe could not conceal her innate noble elegance.

She stood before the main gate of Mu Mansion, looking up at the three vigorous and powerful characters "Mu Mansion" on the plaque, and remained silent for a long while.

Just then, someone in the crowd let out a soft "Ah."

It was Elder Ling Xi.

She stepped forward from behind Mandala, and for the first time, a trace of visible emotion appeared on her usually calm face.

Her lips trembled slightly, her eyes reddened, and she clenched her hands inside her sleeves until her knuckles turned white, yet she dared not take a step forward.

Qing Yanjing turned her head, her gaze passing over the crowd to land on her, and her phoenix eyes widened suddenly, followed by a faint shimmer of moisture.

"Xi'er," Qing Yanjing called to her.

"Mother," Elder Ling Xi's voice was hoarse and soft, as if calling out a word she hadn't spoken in too long.

Mu Chen, Luo Li, Mandala, and the Nine Sovereigns were all stunned.

Mu Chen's mouth was wide open—Elder Ling Xi was a core executive of Mu Mansion and had followed him for so long, yet he had always called her Sister Ling Xi and had never heard her mention her own background.

And now, she was calling Qing Yanjing "Mother."

Qing Yanjing had already walked up and pulled Elder Ling Xi into her arms.

Elder Ling Xi buried her face in Qing Yanjing's shoulder, her shoulders heaving slightly, making no sound, but tears had already silently soaked Qing Yanjing's lapels.

Qing Yanjing gently patted her back, her own eyes reddening, but she did not let the tears fall.

She owed this foster daughter too much—having entrusted the young Elder Ling Xi to an old friend before being imprisoned, they had been separated ever since.

Now, her daughter had grown into a beautiful woman, and her cultivation had even reached the Spirit Grade Heavenly Supreme, better than she had imagined.

No one present made a sound to disturb them, and even Hun Feng subconsciously moved aside two steps, hiding his black dragon patterned spear behind him, uncharacteristically quiet for a moment.

The night grew late, and the victory banquet ended in a mess.

Hun Feng had long since disappeared, and the Nine Sovereigns were drunk and asleep on the tables.

Qing Yanjing did not let anyone escort her, taking a walk in the courtyard alone before heading to her guest room.

Just as she pushed open the door and lit the lamp, the door was knocked—Mu Chen and Luo Li stood side by side outside the door.

"Mother," "Aunt Qing."

Qing Yanjing pulled them in, had them sit side by side on the edge of the bed, and sat down on a round stool opposite them.

The candlelight reflected her gentle and jade-like face, and as she looked at the couple before her, a hint of gratification appeared in her eyes.

"You came at the right time; you must have many questions about Xi'er," her voice was softer than usual, her gaze falling toward the side hall where Elder Ling Xi lived, and she sighed softly.

"Xi'er was a child I adopted back then; she was still young at the time, and I taught her to cultivate the Yin scroll of the Great Pagoda Art, which complements Chen'er's Yang scroll—if the two of them combine their techniques, the power is far beyond one plus one."

"Later, when I was imprisoned, I could only entrust her to an old friend to raise; reuniting today is the happiest thing for me in so many years."

"As for the child bride—that was a decision I made back then, and I didn't get a chance to tell Xi'er, so she still doesn't know."

She withdrew her gaze to look at Mu Chen, a trace of faint apology in her tone, "Mother kept it hidden for her for so many years; it was unfair to her, and unfair to you both—especially Luo Li."

Luo Li stood up and bowed slightly to Qing Yanjing, her voice gentle and graceful: "Aunt Qing, we have all seen how Elder Ling Xi has assisted Mu Chen in Mu Mansion all these years; since it was your arrangement back then, Luo Li is willing to accept Elder Ling Xi. From now on, we are a family."

She added after finishing: "Aunt Qing, Mu Chen and I plan to marry in the spring of next year, and we would like to ask you to preside over our wedding."

A glimmer of light appeared in Qing Yanjing's eyes, which immediately turned into complete gratification.

She reached out and gently patted the back of Luo Li's hand, nodding: "Good, Mother promises you."

Mu Chen was still in a daze and hadn't fully recovered, when he was pulled up from the edge of the bed by Luo Li, and after wishing Qing Yanjing good night, he was led out of the guest room by her.

Her hand was cool, but her grip was stronger than usual, holding his wrist as she walked quickly, her skirt billowing like waves in the corridor.

The door of the bedroom was closed by Luo Li with a backhand, and the bolt clicked shut.

She turned to look at Mu Chen.

Under the candlelight, for the first time, her face lacked its usual cold composure—her blue eyes narrowed slightly, her lips were pressed tight, her chin was slightly raised, and her whole face was written with two words: displeased.

She was no saint, not a virtuous wife of the inner courtyard; she was Luo Li, the Empress of the Luoshen Clan.

She could be magnanimous and decent in front of Qing Yanjing, but after closing the door, she didn't want to pretend anymore.

"Luo Li, I didn't know Mother would suddenly say that—" Mu Chen tried to explain.

"That Elder Ling Xi, she's watched you for so long and endured for so long; she's quite good at enduring," she took a step forward, and Mu Chen subconsciously retreated, his knees hitting the edge of the bed, causing him to fall backward onto the brocade quilt.

"Luo Li—"

She leaned down and pressed over him.

Her silver hair hung down like a waterfall, shrouding their faces in a silver shimmer.

Her nose almost touched his, their breathing intertwined, and he could clearly see his own reflection in her blue eyes.

She straddled him, her slender legs tightly clamping his waist, locking him firmly beneath her.

He could feel the warmth and softness of her inner thighs pressing against his waist, sending a subtle tremor through the thin clothing.

One of her hands rested on his chest, while the other slowly untied her outer robe, the fabric sliding off her shoulders to reveal her delicate collarbone and the full curve of her chest.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his earlobe, her breathing hot and rapid, but her voice was pressed extremely low and deep: "You are mine. Let me take the lead tonight."

Her fingers interlaced with his, pinning him firmly to the bed.

She sat up straight again, looking down at him; the moonlight spilled through the window onto her, dyeing her silver hair into a flowing waterfall of light, her waist slender, and the rounded curve of her hips and waist outlined a breathtaking arc in the moonlight.

She moved slowly up and down on his waist, each downward movement carrying a bit of dominance, a bit of grievance, and a bit of unwillingness—not angry at him, nor angry at Elder Ling Xi, but because she needed confirmation.

Confirmation that this man was hers, confirmation that when he was in her arms, he only had her in his heart, and confirmation that no woman could take him away from her.

Mu Chen suddenly flipped over and pinned her beneath him.

His fingers ran through her loose long hair, his palms pressing against her cheeks, feeling her slightly feverish body temperature and rapid pulse.

Her legs wrapped around his waist again, this time no longer a lock—but an invitation.

He leaned down to kiss her lips, and she tilted her head to respond, their breathing intertwined, and the bed swayed gently in their entanglement.

Her silver hair spread messily on the pillow, his fingers slid slowly down her waistline, each touch making her tremble lightly, and each deep thrust making her unable to help but whisper his name.

Outside the window, the moonlight was like water, and the bamboo forest rustled, drowning out the fragmented whispers and gasps in the room.