The delicate yet wicked female is addicted to collecting stamps, and her many beastly husbands vie f

Chapter 125 What right do you have to touch her?
"When..." Qinglan's Adam's apple bobbed painfully as he stared at her intently.

Fu Ying curved her lips into a smile, her fingertips lightly tracing his tense chest: "This photo was taken when we went to the top of the snowfield together to buy medicinal herbs at the tribal trade fair. Isn't it beautiful?"

Qinglan stared at Fuying, a low laugh suddenly escaping his throat, carrying a chill unique to him.

His voice was ethereal and clear, yet he emphasized each word: "Beautiful, very beautiful."

“Then next…” Fuying leaned down and pressed her red lips to Qinglan’s lips.

However, before she could continue, Teng's voice pierced the air: "Aying! The Marquis of Nevernight has escaped!"

Fu Ying narrowed her beautiful eyes slightly, straightened up, and Qinglan's breath still lingered on her lips.

She slowly put on her clothes, and when she opened the bamboo door, the corners of her narrow eyes were still flushed.

Fuying stood at the doorway, her clothes half-open, revealing only the bright red marks on her collarbone and chest, a vibrant display of spring. She looked at Teng standing in the doorway: "Ran away?"

The night passed, and the torrential rain continued.

As Teng's alcoholic scent dissipated, his gaze softened like spring water the moment it touched Fuying, but froze into ice when it turned to Qinglan who had followed him out. The hostility surging in his dark green eyes pierced Qinglan like a sharp sword.

Teng remained silent, her gaze fixed coldly on his face, as if silently questioning him.

—What right do you have to touch her?
But in the next instant, Teng's pupils suddenly locked, and his whole body trembled.

Seven-star pattern?
In just one night, Qinglan's five-star pattern had transformed into a seven-star pattern. Each of those patterns stung his eyes. Today, she was actually on par with him? How could that be?
A metallic taste rose in Teng's throat, making his back teeth clench painfully.

He desperately gulped down bowl after bowl of spirit wine, hoping to break through to the Nine-Star Extreme Realm as soon as possible. However, after a night, apart from being unusually excited and having energy so abundant that he was almost restless, the power of the star patterns in his body remained as still as stagnant water, showing no sign of increasing at all!

Qinglan did nothing, and even hurt Aying! Yet he beat him to it and won the favor of the female master first. Teng clenched his fists tightly, unable to suppress the sour feeling surging in his chest.

He has no right to interfere with who A-Ying likes, who she is willing to accept, or who she is with.

But why this male who hurt her? Does she really like Qinglan that much?

That would have been fine, but Qinglan had only spent one night with Aying and had already broken through two levels of star patterns, instantly becoming his equal!

Teng felt a surge of resentment, and his internal organs were burning with pain from this pent-up anger.

He really suffered a great loss!
Fu Ying casually gathered her loose collar with her fingertips: "Just ran away?"

"I didn't see anyone when I woke up early this morning. Perhaps they escaped back to the Dark Abyss." Teng's voice was tense, but he forcefully suppressed the murderous aura surging within him when speaking to Fuying.

Qinglan's gaze was indifferent, but she turned to Fuying and said softly, "Don't worry, I'll find it for you."

Teng moved slightly, and the sharp bone knife at his waist gleamed with a cold light, its blade seemingly capable of cleaving through the rain.

He narrowed his dark green vertical pupils, a chilling smile creeping onto his lips: "Who are you to fawn over? Do you want me to help you remember who forced A-Ying to endure the backlash of the broken contract?"

Teng's slender fingertips traced the hilt of the knife: "Do you know how much pain she was in?"

Qinglan's gray-brown pupils suddenly contracted, as if pierced by a poisonous needle, and she trembled violently.

He subconsciously took half a step closer to Fuying, his fingertips gripping the corner of her drooping sleeve. His whole body was stiff and trembling, and even the jade beads in his hair made a soft shattering sound.

Qinglan's usually aloof and languid face was now horribly pale, and my heart ached.

Fu Ying raised the corner of her eye slightly, her eyes filled with gentle warmth: "Go back. I have my own way of dealing with the Marquis of Nevernight, so don't worry."

After saying that, she leaned forward, her fingertips sliding down Qinglan's taut wrist into his palm, gently scratching it as if to soothe him. She whispered in his ear, her breath sweet as orchids, "It doesn't hurt." Qinglan's breath hitched. That "it doesn't hurt" was like honey covering the wound in his heart, a bittersweet feeling.

He withdrew his hand from the pillar and turned to walk towards Teng.

She suddenly reached out and grabbed his strong arm, startling Teng so much that his body stiffened abruptly.

His Adam's apple bobbed violently, a dark undercurrent surged in his dark green vertical pupils, and his voice was hoarse: "Aying?"

Fu Ying gazed at Teng's deep-set eyes, tiptoed, and breathed on his sharply defined jawline.

Her slender fingertips traced the contours of his skin, feeling the sudden tremor in his body. She curved her lips into a smile, her eyes sparkling as she asked, "Are you feeling better now? Is there anything bothering you?"

Teng let out a muffled groan, slowly shaking his head, his handsome eyes filled with a hint of gentleness and bewilderment.

Fu Ying suddenly chuckled, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her eyes: "Then do you want to come with me to find someone?"

Her long, black hair cascaded down his arm, sending a shiver of pleasure through him.

Teng's Adam's apple bobbed, and he nodded hesitantly. His usually gloomy and cold face softened, revealing a clumsy obedience, as if all the scales on his body had been retracted and he was completely submissive, without the slightest bit of ferocity.

Looking at him like this, Fu Ying felt both amused and wistful.

I was going to give him special treatment, but who knew this blockhead would be so stupid.

"Let's go." Fu Ying took Teng's arm and walked leisurely, following the "a thousand miles connected by a single thread" at her fingertips. She was unhurried and very calm, not afraid at all that the Nightless Marquis would escape.

With his current abilities, traversing the orc continent during the rainy season is nothing but a pipe dream.

Illusion Butterfly was already weak. Without the power of bewitching, and without the protection of the insectoid race, he probably wouldn't even be able to leave the territory of the Black Crocodile Swamp. She would go slowly and rescue him when he was at his most vulnerable, which would be just right.

As they left the Black Crocodile Swamp, Fuying suddenly stopped and looked back.

Strange bubbles rose from the viscous mud in the downpour, but the once-incessant rustling of scales had completely vanished.

She raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes: "These black crocodile beastmen have actually migrated?"

“Black Crocodile Orcs?” Teng was taken aback, finally pulling his attention away from the soft warmth on his arm. He composed himself and said, “When I came here, I saw some orcs leaving this territory.”

Teng's gaze swept across the silent swamp: "Are they hiding from the Zerg?"

"Probably." Fu Ying replied casually, seemingly unconcerned.

These black crocodile orcs must have listened to the rebellious advice and didn't want to stay here to die in vain, so they migrated as a whole tribe. That's good, at least we'll have some peace and quiet during the upcoming rainy season.

Along the way, Fuying made a few casual remarks, but Teng's brows were furrowed, and he seemed absent-minded, occasionally giving a low reply, his gaze always unfocused on the distance.

Fu Ying suddenly stepped aside to block him, tilting her head slightly with a hint of amusement in her eyes: "Are you angry?"

Teng almost broke the oil-paper umbrella in his hand, his knuckles turning white from the force.

His dark green eyes stared intently at Fuying, his voice low and hoarse, each word uttered as if squeezed out from between his teeth: "You said you'd come back and give me cubs."

His cold, harsh tone trembled slightly at the end, revealing a hint of loneliness and grievance.

(End of this chapter)