286: Chapter 286 Teasing

Early the next morning, sunlight spilled into the bedchamber through the window lattice.

When Luo Li woke up, she felt sore all over.

She braced herself and sat up on the bed, but the moment her feet touched the floor, she frowned—a throbbing pain from deep within her legs made her gasp.

Last night, Mu Chen had taken her three whole times, each deeper and longer than the last.

Her waist felt as if it had been snapped and then hastily reconnected, and the insides of her thighs were so sore she could barely stand.

She steadied herself against the bedpost and stood up slowly, taking every step with extreme caution, her legs trembling slightly.

"Mu Chen." She bit her lower lip, her voice thick with sleep-induced hoarseness and undisguised resentment.

Mu Chen, who had already woken up, was squatting by the bedside holding a bowl of hangover soup. Seeing her state, he hurriedly set the bowl down to help her.

Luo Li swatted his hand away and, supporting herself against the wall, shuffled step by step toward the vanity.

The bronze mirror reflected her current appearance: her silver hair was scattered across her shoulders, a few stray locks plastered to her forehead, and her blue eyes were still veiled in a languid mist.

Her skin looked even more radiant than yesterday, as if it had been nourished from the inside out; her lips were full and rosy, and the cold, aloof air between her brows had largely faded, replaced by a soft, seductive charm that had never appeared on her face before.

She had never known that after being thoroughly cherished by the one she loved, her face would bloom with such a captivating luster.

Then she saw the deep and shallow red marks on her neck, spreading from behind her ears down to her collarbone, and there were even a few faint red finger marks on her shoulders.

She hurriedly raised her hands to pull her disheveled long hair together, trying to cover the marks, but they were too numerous and dense to be hidden.

"This is all your fault." She glared at him fiercely in the mirror.

Mu Chen gently wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin in the crook of her shoulder as he watched her in the mirror.

He had noticed her changes even earlier than she had—she was still the same Luo Li, but there was a touch of languid allure in her eyes, like petals moistened by morning dew, softer, fuller, and more captivating than ever before.

He couldn't resist pecking her earlobe lightly: "Yes, it's all my fault. I'll be gentler next time."

"There's going to be a next time?" Luo Li turned her head to dodge his lips, though her earlobes uncontrollably flushed with a crimson hue.

She wanted to put on a stern face, but looking at his sincere, yet clearly unapologetic expression in the mirror, the corners of her mouth inevitably curled up.

She leaned back into his embrace, rested her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.

Breakfast was set in the gazebo in the backyard of Mu Mansion.

Qing Yanjing had risen early and had changed into a moon-white dress embroidered with silver patterns, her long hair loosely pinned up with a silver hairpin, looking much more homely and gentle than the day before.

She watched as Luo Li walked over, supported by Mu Chen—to be precise, Luo Li didn't want Mu Chen's help, but her legs went weak while descending the steps, and she nearly tripped.

Mu Chen had caught her waist with quick reflexes.

Qing Yanjing's hand, holding the teacup, paused slightly. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the marks on Luo Li's neck that were impossible to hide, then shifted to Mu Chen's hand wrapped around Luo Li's waist.

Then she set down the teacup and smiled. The smile was light and faint, yet deeply meaningful.

"Luo Li, come and sit." She personally served Luo Li a bowl of lotus seed soup and pushed it in front of her. "You must be exhausted from last night, right?"

Luo Li's face instantly flushed red. She lowered her head to take the bowl, her ears burning as if they were on fire.

Qing Yanjing watched this rare display of embarrassment from her, and the smile in her eyes deepened.

"Chen'er." Qing Yanjing turned to Mu Chen, her tone still calm and indifferent, yet every word carried weight. "Luo Li is a good girl; don't let her down."

"Don't worry, Mother. Come spring next year, I will marry Luo Li, and I would like to ask you to officiate our wedding."

Mu Chen held Luo Li's hand. Luo Li lowered her head and bit her lip, her fingers gently squeezing his palm in response.

In the afternoon, Hun Feng came to bid farewell.

He was still wearing his profound black robes, the black dragon patterned spear slung across his back, his long hair tied up casually.

He had stayed at Mu Mansion for only a day and a night, yet he had already arm-wrestled with Nine Nether a dozen times, drank three rounds of wine with Old Ancestor Xuantian, and discussed the fallacious theory of "how to fall asleep in seconds under any environment" with Sovereign Sleep.

By the time he left, a large group of people had come to see him off.

"Chen'er's mother, I'll leave the affairs of Mu Mansion to you. If you need anything, have someone send a message to the Imperial City."

Hun Feng cupped his fists toward Qing Yanjing, his tone casual yet revealing a touch of sincerity. "When you have time, come visit the Burning Heaven Mountain Range; the doors of Spirit Hall are always open to you."

Qing Yanjing bowed slightly in return: "I certainly will."

Hun Feng looked at her again—the moon-white dress embroidered with silver patterns set off her elegant and refined aura, and that exquisitely beautiful face wore a very faint smile.

Then he withdrew his gaze, waved at everyone, tore open a spatial rift, and stepped into it, soon disappearing into the void.

Qing Yanjing stood in place, watching that profound black figure disappear into the spatial rift, her face still wearing that calm and indifferent expression, as if the invitation just now was merely customary politeness.

Only when she turned around did her fingers clench slightly in her sleeves, her fingertips tracing a faint arc across her palm, as if measuring the distance between the Burning Heaven Mountain Range and the Tianluo Continent.

Imperial City, side hall of the main palace.

When Hun Feng stepped out of the spatial rift, his six wives were drinking tea in the flower hall.

Cai Lin sat in the main seat, flipping through a file of military documents; Xun'er sat by the window, wiping her guqin; Yao Yao was lounging on a soft couch, boredly toying with her bone whip; Yun Yun and Cao Ying were whispering about the style of some newly tailored clothes; Xiao Yi Xian sat in the corner, holding a book.

Xue Wei leaned against the doorframe, raising her chin at him from afar as a greeting. Everything looked as peaceful as any other day.

"You're back?" Yao Yao was the first to spring up from the couch.

Her peach-blossom eyes scanned behind him once, then again, confirming that he hadn't brought back anyone extra.

A wicked, mischievous smile slowly bloomed on her exquisitely beautiful, youthful face as she twirled the bone whip in her hand. "Yo, really came back alone? What about Qing Yanjing? Why didn't you bring her back?"

"She was just imprisoned for over a decade; right now, the most important thing is for her to accompany Mu Chen. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to just bring her back like that."

Hun Feng remained calm, walked to the table, picked up Cai Lin's teacup, and took a large gulp.

Cai Lin glanced at him without stopping him, merely raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Is that so?" Yao Yao tilted her head to look at him, her peach-blossom eyes curving into crescents, the wicked smile on her lips deepening. "Why do I get the feeling it's not that you didn't want to bring her, but that you didn't dare to ask?"

"You're usually quite capable when it comes to pursuing women, aren't you? How come you're useless in front of Qing Yanjing? Shy? Too scared to even say a word?"

Cao Ying put down the fabric sample in her hand and smiled as she joined in: "That must be it. I saw that our husband's face turned red when he met Qing Yanjing. He must have been thinking all sorts of things, but couldn't utter a single word."

Yun Yun shook her head gently, a helpless smile appearing on her gentle face: "Husband is probably just nervous. He wasn't like this when he was pursuing us back then."

"Rare indeed." Xiao Yi Xian didn't even look up, turning a page of her book, her voice cold and indifferent.

Xun'er stopped wiping the strings of her zither, looked up at Hun Feng, and a faint smile appeared on the corners of her lips: "It's good that you're back."

Hun Feng listened to their teasing remarks, one after another, but didn't refute them, simply lowering his head to drink tea.

His silence was interpreted by the women as tacit admission; tacit admission meant a guilty conscience, and a guilty conscience meant shyness.

Although this chain of logic made no sense, the six wives unanimously agreed it was true.

They exchanged knowing glances, each picked up their teacups and took a sip, their expressions unified: triumphant.

Their husband was awe-inspiring outside, but cowered when he saw Qing Yanjing, not even daring to say more than a few words, and had to slink back alone.

What did this mean? It meant that in their husband's heart, they were still the most important; no matter how beautiful other women were, they couldn't shake their status.

This realization made them very satisfied, extremely satisfied, thoroughly satisfied.

Yao Yao was the first to burst into laughter, unable to hold it in.

She poked Hun Feng's arm with her bone whip, her peach-blossom eyes filled with mischief: "Husband, it's okay. If you didn't get her this time, you didn't get her. Just go a few more times. Anyway, Mu Mansion isn't far. Next time you go, bring more gifts and stay for a few more days. We won't be jealous."

She deliberately emphasized the words "won't be jealous," and the wicked smile on her lips clearly said—we are too triumphant, so triumphant that there's no need to be jealous at all.

Cai Lin put down the military documents, looked up at Yao Yao: "Didn't you just say that him not bringing anyone back meant he was a coward? Why are you offering him advice all of a sudden?"

"I'm just worried for him." Yao Yao said righteously, her peach-blossom eyes slanting toward Hun Feng: "Husband, I've been racking my brains for your sake. But seriously, next time you go to see her, don't just focus on fighting; say a few more words. This face of yours is still quite deceptive; it's a waste not to use it."

The women chattered and teased, and laughter filled the flower hall.

Hun Feng held his teacup, leaning against the back of his chair, watching these women revel in his misfortune, a faint smile slowly appearing on his lips.

He didn't tell them that Qing Yanjing had accepted his communication jade slip, nor did he tell them about the invitation to "come visit the Burning Heaven Mountain Range when you have time," and he certainly didn't tell them about the fingers Qing Yanjing had clenched in her sleeves as she watched him leave.

He said nothing, just smiled while holding his teacup.

There was no rush. The next time they met, they would naturally know.