My cultivation disguise has been exposed by Xiao Sizi.

Her face turned so red it looked like it was about to bleed.

That blush spread from her cheeks all the way down her slender neck, and even her earlobes were burning red.

She suddenly stretched out her hands and forcefully pushed away Fang Yi'ai's firm chest.

The immense force separated the two instantly.

Fang Yi'ai was pushed back three steps.

His face, which was always as cold and hard as ice.

At this moment, for the first time ever, a suspicious dark red layer appeared.

He was breathing heavily, his large, calloused hands hanging stiffly in mid-air, unsure of what to do with them.

The lingering warmth of that fatal touch seemed to remain on his lips.

This completely threw him into a state of panic.

"You...you..."

Princess Gaoyang covered her burning cheeks with her hands and squatted on the ground.

She didn't dare look at Fang Yi'ai again, her voice trembling uncontrollably, choked with sobs, yet without a trace of murderous intent.

"You scoundrel! You lecher! I...I'm ignoring you!"

After saying that, this most arrogant princess of the Tang Dynasty...

She suddenly stood up like a wronged young wife.

They even discarded the crimson whip that had fallen to the ground.

Covering his face, he transformed into a red blur and fled in panic, instantly rushing out of the training ground's gate.

Watching Princess Gaoyang's retreating figure as she fled.

Fang Yi'ai stood there, stunned, for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

The cold-blooded thug swallowed hard.

He turned around stiffly.

They walked in unison, like a broken marionette, mechanically moving in the opposite direction from Gao Yang.

"Um...I...I still need to lift stones, yes, lift stones..."

Fang Yi'ai stammered as he talked to himself.

Then.

He directly activated the strongest footwork technique of body cultivators.

With a loud "boom".

He left a large crater in his wake, and like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, he vanished without a trace in an instant.

On the training ground, only Si Zi remained, still covering his eyes and peeking through his fingers.

"Huh? Where did everyone go?"

Sizi lowered her little hand and scratched her head in confusion.

She turned her head and looked at Fatty Si, who was lying next to her yawning.

"Fourth brother, adults play strange games. They just give you a kiss and run away?"

Sizi pouted and grabbed Fatty Si's big, hairy ear.

"This isn't fun! Let's go, let's go find Brother Sixteen and ask him for candy, we've discovered a big secret!"

The man and the cat hopped and skipped away from the training ground.

Looking upstairs.

Li Chen and Li Chengqian looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Sixteenth Brother," Li Chengqian swallowed, "Have I taught him too well? This kid has not only grown stronger, but he's even learned this trick of using an opponent's force against them when flirting with girls?"

Li Chen chuckled and carefully put the image crystal in his hand into his storage bag.

"This isn't called using someone else's strength against them; it's called fate's arrangement."

"Let's go, brother. Our Tang Dynasty is about to have another military prince consort."

Sunset West Mountain.

The city of Chang'an was shrouded in a hazy twilight.

In a deep alley not far from the royal temple.

The light was dim and the place was deserted.

A handsome monk dressed in a moon-white robe and holding a white bone rosary was quietly hidden in the shadows.

This is precisely the opportunity that led to the backlash during the day!

At this moment, although his face was still somewhat pale, his peach blossom eyes were flashing with an extremely excited, sinister light, like that of a venomous snake.

He had just sensed a dramatic change in Princess Gaoyang's aura through the Bodhi beads.

"What a beautiful fluctuation..."

Bianji closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Originally, she only felt anger and frustration; those emotions were too intense and difficult to overcome."

"But now..."

A cruel smile slowly spread across Bianji's lips.

"Her heart was in turmoil. There was shyness, panic, and even a budding affection."

"The word 'love' is the most hurtful thing, and it is also the easiest thing to make people lose themselves."

"As long as there is affection, the soul's defenses will be riddled with holes!"

Bianji opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on the direction of the royal temple.

Princess Gaoyang, feeling uneasy, was heading to the temple alone, trying to calm her wildly beating heart before the Buddha.

"Your Highness."

Bianji's voice echoed in the dark alley like the whisper of a demon.

"When you feel lost and helpless in front of the Buddha."

"This humble monk will become the guiding light you most desire in your heart, leading you step by step into the abyss of my bliss."

He turned the prayer beads in his hand, and his figure gradually disappeared into the darkness.

Since that "clash of the century" that took place at the Royal Martial Arts Arena.

The onlookers throughout Chang'an suddenly realized they had nothing to watch for amusement.

The "tsundere princess and muscle thug" saga, which used to be a daily spectacle on Suzaku Street, has miraculously disappeared these past few days.

We occasionally bump into each other on the street.

The art style has also become incredibly bizarre.

The crossroads of West Market.

Princess Gaoyang, accompanied by her maid, was preparing to buy some newly released rouge.

They bumped right into Fang Yi'ai, who was carrying several kilograms of high-quality demon beast meat and had just come out of the body cultivation camp.

The two were still more than ten feet apart.

Their footsteps were like nails, firmly planted on the bluestone slab.

There was no tense standoff.

The iconic red whip was not pulled out.

Princess Gaoyang's fair and delicate face flushed red to her ears in an instant.

She suddenly turned her head, pretending to be very interested in a green onion stall next to her, staring intently at the bunch of lush green onions.

It was as if it were some rare treasure.

But her little hands, with nowhere to go, almost crumpled the hem of her clothes.

Fang Yi'ai, on the other hand, behaved even worse.

This muscular thug, who dared to throw punches even against a Nascent Soul stage expert, was now as stiff as a rusty lump of iron.

His usually stern face also flushed red.

He turned around abruptly and awkwardly, his hands and feet moving in unison, as if fleeing for his life, and scurried into a dead end.

A group of dumbfounded guards and passersby were left standing there, bewildered in the wind.

Whenever the two met, they would avoid each other's gaze as if they had been electrocuted.

Neither dared to look at the other more than once.

The ambiguity and awkwardness that permeated the air, almost like a string of slivers, could be smelled even by stray dogs on the street.

Night was falling.

In the deep boudoir of the princess's residence, a solitary lamp still burns.

Princess Gaoyang sat in front of her dressing table, wearing a thin silk nightgown.

Looking at her reflection in the bronze mirror—a face as beautiful as a peach blossom, eyes brimming with spring—she irritably threw the comb onto the table.

"What's wrong with me?!"

Gao Yang covered her burning cheeks with both hands, but her mind was filled with that cold face and that unexpected, stormy kiss.