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Chapter 124 The Shy Qinglan is Not Shy

Fu Ying could feel Bai Cang's burning gaze imprinted on her back, but she never turned around.

As a top employee of the "Extinction Optimization Department of the Transmigration Bureau," she had long since engraved the first rule of the "High-Risk Mission Code" into her bones: emotional projection is the ant hole that breaks the dam of professional ethics.

She had seen too many colleagues fall into ruin, including newcomers and top performers as decisive as herself. They were all willing to shed all the system's support and become mayflies that lived only a day and died in their own little world.

Being soft-hearted and emotional is the most fatal flaw of transmigrators.

These harmless emotions can erode reason, ultimately leading her to make wrong judgments.

Suppressing human nature with rules is what a qualified enforcer should do.

She would never indulge herself just because it's a retirement community.

*
The bamboo house Qinglan built was imbued with his unique, refreshing aura.

Hsinchu was still covered in frost, and the bamboo tables and beds were joined together perfectly, showing that nothing was lacking.

Fuying walked barefoot on the bamboo planks, making a slight creaking sound.

She suddenly turned around, her hair sweeping across half an arc, and looked at Qinglan's frozen figure at the door. His Adam's apple bobbed, as if he knew what was about to happen, and he seemed somewhat anxious.

"What are you standing there for? Come here."

Fuying sat down on the bamboo bed, his fingertips lightly touching the texture of the green bamboo, tapping it twice casually.

She crossed her long legs, revealing her smooth, jade-like skin. Her eyebrows were slightly raised, her eyes sparkling, and a faint smile played on her lips, teasing and alluring.

Qinglan's throat tightened, and her well-defined fingers unconsciously dug into her palms.

The strong, rich aroma of the liquor failed to intoxicate him, but Fu Ying's soft, gentle call sent shivers down his spine.

He was drawn to her as if by invisible threads, and their figures intertwined and swayed in the halo of light.

Fu Ying looked up into his eyes, her fingertips gliding like snakes, gently tracing his firm abdominal muscles, lingering on his taut V-line. When she probed inside, Qing Lan suddenly tensed his back.

He trembled all over, a suppressed groan escaped his throat, his knuckles clenched tightly, and the stray hairs on his forehead were damp with a thin layer of sweat, revealing his desperate attempt to control his utter disarray.

Only then did he seem to become drunk, his eyes streaked with tears, a blush spreading from his eyelids all the way to his ears.

Fu Ying's voice was sweet yet alluring, gentle yet captivating: "Shall we take a bath together?"

Qinglan's rationality gradually crumbled with her movements, her breathing became rapid and disordered, and the veins on her pale skin were faintly visible. A tingling pleasure flowed through her, rushing straight to her tailbone.

Fu Ying's red lips curved slightly, her eyes full of cunning; the innocent beastman was indeed unable to resist the slightest teasing.

With a flick of her finger, her sash fell to the ground. Before Qinglan could react, she pulled him into the steaming bathtub. Water splashed everywhere, and his pale skin instantly flushed a light red.

Fuying leaned closer, her arms encircling his taut waist and abdomen, feeling his rapid heartbeat.

Qinglan's Adam's apple bobbed, and her usually cool eyes, visible through the mist, were now filled with panic and helplessness.

Fu Ying chuckled: "I forgot, big cats don't like water."

His long, flaxen hair was wet and clung to his neck, water droplets hitting his eyelashes. His usual cool and languid demeanor had been evaporated by the moisture. Looking at the boudoir next to him, his Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

Fu Ying leaned down, her red lips touching the scar on his neck with a touch of tenderness, tracing the small puddle on his shoulder.

Wherever she went, she set off a wildfire, and Qinglan's every breath was filled with suppressed gasps.

When Fuying's red lips covered hers, Qinglan finally broke down. Her slender fingers gripped her waist, her long eyelashes trembled, her wet hair tangled, and she responded awkwardly yet passionately.

Their rapid breathing mingled in the rising steam.

"Are you willing to form a bond with me?" Fu Ying turned her head to look at him, her voice extremely serious. Upon hearing her words, a surge of bloodlust suddenly welled up in Qinglan's gray-brown eyes. He gazed deeply at Fu Ying, his clear and ethereal voice becoming extremely hoarse at this moment: "I am willing."

The moment the contract was formed, clean snow leopard markings appeared on the side of Fuying's waist.

The red fox once again perched on Qinglan's neck. His fingertips trembled as he touched the crimson mark. The red fox's markings seemed to recognize him, shimmering and reflecting the crystalline light in his eyes.

The next moment, Qinglan swept Fuying up in her arms.

Although he wasn't extremely strong, his arms were steady and powerful, and his skin, steamed by the warm water, radiated a burning heat. He didn't linger and walked straight to the bamboo bed.

Fu Ying was slightly surprised; after renewing their pact, he had become more proactive.

The cold, hard bamboo stick pressed against my skin, sending a chill through me.

In this situation, Fu Ying naturally couldn't let Qing Lan take the initiative. He hooked his neck around Qing Lan's neck and bit him, leaving ambiguous marks. Qing Lan's back tensed, as if a wave of emotion was being suppressed within him.

What followed was a natural consequence: the bamboo bed creaked under the strain.

People say that the slower the effects of alcohol take to wear off, the more powerful the aftereffects will be.

Fuying let out broken moans from her throat, her cheeks flushed.

She looked up dazedly, her narrow eyes reflecting Qinglan's gray-brown pupils. This orc, whose ears would turn red even when she looked at him, was now full of aggression, without the slightest bit of shyness.

Noticing her gaze, Qinglan's eyes suddenly darkened, her pupils turning into vertical slits as she became aroused.

He didn't pull away; his bones crackled softly as he transformed into an elegant snow leopard, his tail coiling around her slender waist, flipping her over with irresistible force.

Qinglan's snow-white sharp teeth gently bit Fuying's nape, each deep bite accompanied by the unique purring sound of a cat-like beastman, mixed with her whimpers, weaving into a rhythm that made one blush.

After an unknown amount of time, before Fuying's breathing had calmed down, Qinglan suddenly stopped.

Fu Ying glanced at him and saw that his body was burning hot and his beastly form was stiff.

Qinglan's gray-brown beast eyes suddenly contracted, and the five-pointed star pattern on its forehead suddenly twisted and surged like boiling water. Then it painfully raised its neck, and its bones made a teeth-grinding cracking sound.

Fu Ying watched as the star pattern on his forehead suddenly split and extended, transforming from a five-pointed star into seven luminaries!

It turns out that the spirit rice wine wasn't ineffective against him; it was simply a matter of accumulating strength and waiting for the right opportunity.

Qinglan's star pattern advancement didn't last long before he transformed into human form, his palms firmly gripping Fuying's waist.

In a dizzying moment, Fuying was turned over by him and straddled him. The jade ornaments in her hair jingled softly and melodiously, as if they had returned to the time when the two first met.

The young man leaning against the tree was aloof and languid, utterly pure, just like the white moonlight in one's heart.

"I'll give you a gift."

Fu Ying curled her lips into a smile, and with a flick of her wrist, a photograph appeared at her fingertips.

Qinglan's beast ears were still perked up, and when she saw the image in the photo, her breath suddenly caught in her throat.

At the summit of the snow-capped mountain, the setting sun slid down the snow ridge, and a slender figure was silhouetted against the crimson-gold snow, becoming a solitary silhouette.

Qinglan's ears twitched as she recognized the familiar silhouette in the photo.

This is him.

This has caused widespread anxiety and unease.

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(End of this chapter)