Don't mess with that Miao boy, he's sickly and perverted.

The so-called Immortal Pool in Jingming Terrace was actually the pond that Master used to grow water chestnuts when he was young.

The white cat said that when the water chestnuts ripened, Master would often pick them and share them with his disciples. It is said that the flesh of these fruits absorbs the essence of heaven and earth, and eating just one can improve one's cultivation.

Wu Li naturally dismissed these claims as nonsense; all he knew was that his wife had a sweet tooth and loved to eat.

He let the red dragon dive into the pool and pick one. The skin was still green. He bit off the skin and then took a bite of the flesh. It was astringent and bitter.

He frowned, looked down at the girl in his arms and said, "Mimi, I've already tasted it for you, it's not ripe yet."

With the youth-preserving pill maintaining her figure, the girl's body was no longer stiff, and her skin remained smooth and vibrant. Her head rested against the boy's neck, her hair loosely tied in a bun, still adorned with the silver fish tassel hairpin, the rest of her black hair softly cascading over her shoulders.

Her eyes were gently closed, her long eyelashes drooped slightly, and her fair face was serene, truly like she was just fast asleep.

But her body was completely cold, as cold as a cup of tea that had gone cold, its warmth completely gone.

Only when the warm sunlight slowly climbs up can it warm her.

In the brief moments while waiting for the sun to rise, he would slowly kiss her hair.

Every night, Wu Li would wash her hair with water infused with dried flowers, then wipe it from head to toe, alternating between gardenia, jasmine, and magnolia. So her hair always carried a faint fragrance, a scent he had personally applied to her hair, like a secret possession.

He started kissing from the ends of her hair, little by little, following the texture of her hair up to her ears.

The small earlobe felt cool; he warmed it between his lips, and as the first rays of sunlight finally crossed the mountains and fell on her face, he spoke to remind her:

"The sun has risen."

Did you understand?

You should continue to like me.

Wu Li had pondered those words for a long time. He should have been more proactive that day.

At first, he was always anxious and hesitant, holding the moonlight in his hands but not daring to squeeze it tightly, afraid that it would shatter if he exerted too much force.

She had given him so much—smiles, tears, warm companionship, and proactive approaches—yet he still couldn't believe that the light in her eyes was for him. She, a young woman, had uttered the words that should have been spoken by him first.

Therefore, he must make up for it properly.

If one sentence isn't enough, add a hundred, until she gets tired of hearing it.

"Mimi, I like you, I like you so much."

"This time, I'll speak first. Now it's your turn. Quickly tell me you like me."

He waited.

The wind did not answer, nor did she.

He suddenly chuckled, his fingertips twirling a strand of her hair, wrapping it around and loosening it, then wrapping it again.

"You won't say it... Fine, I'll say it again."

"Mimi, I really like you so much, I'm going crazy with it, what should I do?"

He lowered his eyes, his eyelashes casting a thin shadow beneath them. His tone was so soft it sounded like coaxing, yet also like a threat: "Look, every time you stay silent, I'll say it again. How many times do you plan to make me say it, hmm?"

She's really mean; she's still pretending not to hear.

The face was calm and still, the long eyelashes remained motionless, and the corners of the mouth were even slightly upturned, as if laughing at his foolishness.

Tsk.

What an annoying young lady.

But ironically, he was completely helpless when it came to her.

"Fine, it's okay if you don't say anything. Anyway, you're my wife, and you can only love me." A dark glint flashed in his eyes as he played with a strand of her hair with his fingertips, saying helplessly, "But if you won't speak, I'll just have to punish you."

into the night.

Punishment then came.

The flickering red candlelight cast a warm glow throughout the room.

The boy's clothes were half off, hanging precariously in his arms, revealing a section of his lean waist and abdomen.

The texture undulates gently with each breath, every line as if meticulously drawn with a brush, creating sensual light and shadow under the candlelight.

The area was covered in wounds, and drops of blood dripped onto the girl's body.

The Crimson Blood Silkworm inside his body was almost completely drained.

She wouldn't allow him to get hurt, but he insisted on torturing himself.

She thought he was a pearl, but only he knew in his heart that he was black at heart, and all his kindness was just a facade, something he only wore because she liked it.

He thought that if he behaved better, she would like him more and more.

But now, she's pretending to be a porcelain doll.

Silent and cold.

He hated this porcelain doll to death.

His slender fingers gripped the bedding beneath him tightly, his knuckles white, and blue veins snaked from the back of his hands into the depths of the shadows.

A soft, hoarse breath escaped his tightly pressed lips, as if it had been crushed deep in his throat before being released: "Mimi..."

He called those two words in a soft, sticky voice, with a hint of grievance and ingratiation.

He bent down to kiss her.

It just touched, gently brushing against the lips, like a thirsty person finally finding water, but only daring to take a small sip.

Crimson, viscous blood, one drop, two drops, all fell on her, leaving warm marks on her cold skin.

He was the only warmth he gave her.

"Serves you right for being naughty... Open your eyes and see how dirty I've made you."

He smiled.

Looking at the girl whose clothes were stained bright red.

Just like that day at the city gate.

The corners of his mouth gradually widened, revealing the purest, most morbid smile. He exuded a deep, sinister aura, as if he had finally torn away that docile skin, exposing everything rotten beneath to her.

Unfortunately, she had her eyes closed and couldn't see anything.

She hates dirt the most, and hates the smell of blood.

After a moment of silence, he suddenly panicked.

He quickly fetched a basin of warm water, sprinkled with jasmine petals.

He had to quickly clean her up and make her smell nice.

Otherwise she would definitely be angry.

By the way, how exactly did she get angry?

With her brows furrowed, lips pouting, and glaring at him with those watery eyes, just thinking about it made him unable to help but curl his lips into a smile.

When he brushed against her left hand, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Mimi, loosen your grip a little so I can wipe my palms."

Wu Li tried to pry it open, but couldn't. Not daring to use too much force, he could only let it go.

From that day on, her hand remained clenched into a tight fist. The rest of her body remained supple, but this hand, stubborn and unyielding, refused to loosen, much like her occasional fits of temper.

"What's wrong? Why are you gripping so tightly? Are you holding back to hit me? Are you angry that I got you dirty?" He lifted her hand and lightly punched it against his chest. "Here, hit me if you want, are you satisfied now?"

Wu Li was not a talkative person, and he especially disliked talking nonsense.

But ever since he got together with Chai Xiaomi, he seems to have an endless stream of nonsense to say.

Now that she doesn't speak, he feels a little uneasy about the silence.

He snuggled into bed, pulled her close, and started chatting about this and that.

"The red dragon was lazy again today, sleeping by the pool all day, drooling into the water. The old man said that beasts become tired and weak before they transform into human form, so it should be close to taking human form soon."

"Jiang Zhiyu and Song Yueyao have come a few times recently, saying they wanted to see you, but I didn't agree. Song Yueyao is now the Empress, Mimi, do you want to be the Empress?"

"Forget it, you're so lazy, you'd probably find it too troublesome."

"Oh, by the way, there's a huge patch of daisies blooming in the valley behind the mountain, scattered white dots. I remember you like daisies, shall I take you to see them tomorrow?"

When he got tired of talking, he would stop, gently pinch her cheek, and feign anger, asking, "Hey, were you even listening?"

"I've said so much, you should at least give me some response, even just a 'hmm' would be fine, or blink? Move a finger?"

"Or do you think I talk too much and it's annoying?"

He pulled her closer to him, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"There's nothing I can do about it. If you don't like what you're hearing, just get up and yell at me. I promise I won't talk back."