I have an unlimited number of shikigami

"Young Master..." The Lady of the Imperial Household tried to win him over with a beautiful smile, but the result was the opposite, and she ended up with a mournful face.

Immersed in wonderful joy, Fujiwara Izaya suddenly stretched out his left fist in front of her eyes, raised his index and middle fingers, and said, "Do you remember how this tastes?"

"Oh, don't talk nonsense." The Lady of the Imperial Household grabbed his fingers, her neck turning red instantly.

To hide her panic, she grabbed his hand hastily and said, "Don't bring this up again!"

Fujiwara Izaya smiled, pursing his lips, and pressed his face against hers: "Then change your clothes, change in front of me."

"Young master, do you wish to see me change my clothes?"

"Do you still need to ask?"

"How disgusting! I never dreamed that the young master would be such a person." The Lady looked at him with a sorrowful expression, her cheeks flushed.

"This is absolutely a forced order. Seriously, you have to listen to me on this matter. After all, I'm the young master, the master. And you're just a bad woman who came uninvited..."

The Lady of the Imperial Household lowered her eyes and remained silent.

In doing so, Fujiwara Izaya simply adopted the unrestrained demeanor of a young master, forcefully loosening her belt. She suddenly became delicate again, her drooping eyes appearing even more alluring. Fujiwara Izaya watched her as he pulled at her clothes; her face swayed slightly from side to side, a blush rising again.

After removing her outer garments, the Lady of the Palace, dressed in black lace lingerie, revealed a remarkably voluptuous figure. Her strong yet slender legs, supporting her full and shapely body, gave off a balanced yet dangerous vibe, and carried a distorted tropical allure that evoked a sense of sweltering heat.

Fujiwara Izaya took the new clothes and slowly helped her put them on.

His fingers traced her delicate skin.

Just like a cluster of light and delicate leaves, elegant yet somewhat frivolous.

Her waistline was alluring, her buttocks were perky and firm, and her body was soft and undulating like a flower, all of which made one's heart flutter.

"Whoosh—" Fujiwara Izaya blew a breath into her ear from behind.

His perfect body visibly trembled, which made him laugh triumphantly.

As he helped her fasten her belt, Fujiwara Izaya's fingertips brushed against her goosebump-covered abdomen. Every part of her body exuded her mature charm and radiated a noble aura.

The flickering candlestick emitted a yellow light, like that of a specimen flower.

In this scene, the barely clothed imperial concubine began to dance gracefully.

She was breathtakingly beautiful and stunningly gorgeous, yet her clothes were extremely thin, barely covering a few vital areas. The ribbons wrapped around her slender, lotus-root-like arms fluttered and danced, a truly exquisite sight.

The fiery red clothes, like fluttering colorful butterflies, kept passing by my eyes.

Her fair skin was as dazzling as snow, and the layers of thin red gauze swirled with her movements, exuding a captivating charm. However, in contrast to this alluring attire, she wore a phoenix crown, a symbol of the dynasty, on her head.

Fujiwara Izaya sipped his sake, one sip at a time.

The lady of the palace danced to an eight-act ballet called "The Beauty of Poppy".

The dance's script is based on the famous tragedy of Xiang Yu and Yu Ji from ancient China.

The final scene shows Yu Ji drawing her sword and stabbing herself in the chest, then being held in Xiang Yu's arms as she dies listening to the Chu songs of homesickness.

The flickering lights and candlelight.

The lively woman was like a sprite in the lamplight.

Watching the graceful figure dancing, Fujiwara Izaya suddenly thought of Xiang Yu, who was watching Yu Ji's performance, and who had committed suicide by the Wujiang River not long afterward.

The dance ended.

Just then, a breeze blew in.

The Lady of the Imperial Household stopped dancing.

Her face, with its red lips and white teeth, and her snow-white and delicate skin, blossomed like a flower.

At this moment, she held her phoenix crown with one hand, her right leg in a relaxed posture, toes pointing outwards. This posture resembled that of a dying dancer, and her captivating beauty in her smile evoked a sense of bewildered sorrow as a woman of a dynasty reached the end, recalling her past nobility and the cruelty of reality.

"Young Master, I must return." The Lady of the Imperial Household knelt down and slowly bowed.

Her elegantly drawn eyebrows drooped, and a golden phoenix crown obscured her stunning beauty. On the surface, she truly was a courtesan, desperately trying to escape from the tyrannical young master. Yet, a suggestive smile lingered between her lowered eyes. It possessed both the regal grace of an empress and the flirtatious allure of a courtesan—a smile she was about to gracefully bestow upon a certain young man.

Fujiwara Izaya ate his food silently.

Fine wine, delicious food, and beautiful widow performances—life is wonderful.

The Lady of the Imperial Household covered her mouth with a handkerchief, as if suppressing a sob, and hurriedly ran towards the door with her head down. However, just as she reached the door, a pair of hands came around from behind her and wrapped around her like a large net.

"Young Master..." the Lady of the Imperial Household cried out in a panic.

The next second, her feet suddenly lifted off the ground, and she was carried back to the tatami mat.

Fujiwara Izaya let her sit in his lap, lifting her chin with his fingertips, as if observing a frightened little animal.

"We haven't finished eating yet," he said.

"I will accompany you, young master, but please do not touch me indiscriminately..." The lady of the palace used one hand to pick up sushi for him and the other hand to catch it and feed it to his mouth.

Fujiwara Izaya took a bite of sushi and glanced at the sake cup.

The lady of the palace then gently poured him another glass of wine.

"I'll drink half." Fujiwara Izaya took a sip and pushed the glass back to her lips. "You can drink the rest."

The cold touch of the ceramic wine glass was very comfortable. The Lady of the Palace gently kissed the rim of the glass with her lips. After a slight struggle, she stuck out her tongue and licked the remaining half glass of wine clean, like a puppy drinking water.

"What a smart woman." Fujiwara Izaya couldn't help but take her hand.

Immediately, the Lady's fingers hooked onto his hand, but Fujiwara Izaya then broke free and gripped her entire hand tightly, as if he wanted to crush her soft little hand.

The Lady of the Palace did not cry out in pain.

She merely raised her noble face slightly, and delicate tears welled up in her eyes.

In the candlelight, Fujiwara Izaya saw the glistening tears in her eyes, and felt a great sense of satisfaction. Clearly, the Lady of the Palace was faking it, but he had made it clear that he wanted to be in charge. She didn't object, but instead used a pitiful expression to ask him to be careful not to hurt her.

Her response was enough.

"Young Master," the Lady of the Imperial Household pulled her hand away slightly, "it hurts~"

"Because I love you so much," Fujiwara Izaya said seriously.

"Oh, I'm just a geisha, and a single mother with a child..."

"I will take my child's surname."

"Please don't make fun of me..." The Lady of the Imperial Household shook her head reluctantly.

Fujiwara Izaya lowered his head and gently sniffed her neck: "Why would I make fun of you with something like this..."

"Ugh... I can't take it anymore..."

As he rubbed his neck, the Lady of the Palace felt warm all over and seemed a little drunk.

Her fair and delicate neck, which had been smeared with a light pink powder, was now covered with lipstick marks, making the scene incredibly suggestive. She occasionally pushed Fujiwara Izaya's face away, her eyes flashing with a seductive allure.

"It's getting late... The main banquet is about to start, and instead of hosting it, what kind of person are you, bullying me like this..."

The Lady of the Imperial Household pleaded for mercy in a trembling voice, but Fujiwara Rin ignored her.

The more she struggled, the tighter she was held.

"You've exhausted me..." the Lady said, her voice laced with pained pleasure. "It wasn't easy for me to come all this way, and as the hostess, how can you treat your guest like this..."

“Master is intimidated by your imposing presence, so he’s going to bully you,” Fujiwara Izaya said teasingly.

The Lady of the Imperial Household chuckled inexplicably.

Those fluttering eyelashes, as if coated with oil, shimmered with an alluring luster.

"Because I am majestic, you have to bully me; because I am beautiful, you have to have me... Waaah, that's so mean, you'll get stabbed if you keep doing this..." The Lady of the Imperial Household raised her voice, using lazy words that didn't sound like an insult at all.

Beautiful and tender things can connect and blend together, creating an indescribable sense of intimacy. Fujiwara Izaya's winks, smiles, and even his almost lewd gestures all became adorable to her.

It's almost eight o'clock.

The room fell silent as Lady Fujiwara breathed heavily beside Izaya.

Her breathing was labored, her skin a fiery red, like an autumn forest, even her fingertips tinged with the autumn hue. The radiance of her skin was like that of tropical fruit being sold under the dense shade of a mimosa tree. The fruit was already ripe, so ripe that you could squeeze water out of it with the slightest touch.

Her breasts were full and bulging, and her back was partially exposed.

The dress's sash was tied at the back of her neck, splitting open to connect to her waist. A straight, sensual back crevice ran all the way to her tailbone, revealing even a glimpse of her secret, small, pool-like area. Her rounded buttocks were concealed by a thin red veil, like a full moon shrouded in blood mist, appearing alluringly beautiful.

That delicate skin did not reject air and water; it was moist, like the petals of an amber orchid.

From a distance, the bones appeared slender, but when Fujiwara Izaya touched them, he discovered that they were actually well-proportioned and sturdy.

"We should go back now," he said.

"Yes." The Lady of the Imperial Household breathed a sigh of relief.

She was waiting to hear those words.

That scumbag is so greedy.

She was afraid that if she stayed another half hour, not only would her mouth be compromised, but her entire body might be lost.

In the flickering lamplight, the Lady of the Imperial Household removed her red gauze dress and changed into the gown she had worn upon entering. As she changed, she raised her hands to gather her beautiful black hair, making her already impressive bust appear exaggeratedly large with the movement. When she raised her hands, the view under her armpits was also fully revealed; the skin there was no different from the rest of her body, as smooth and natural as milk.

With such a body, many healthy children are sure to emerge.

After changing his clothes and straightening his skirt, the Lady of the Imperial Household gave him a flirtatious wink.

Only when she squeezes hard will the fine wrinkles that are not usually visible appear faintly at the corners of her eyes.

Fujiwara Izaya looked at her and sighed in a hoarse voice, "With a body like that, she's sure to have many healthy children."

"?"

The Lady of the Imperial Palace, who had just recovered from the afterglow, blushed again.

She lifted her bare feet and slammed them onto his lower abdomen, stomping on it a few times, and angrily shouted, "How much fertility can a little boy like you have? You want me to get pregnant with your child? You'd better die right now..."

I was barefoot when I was dancing just now.

Her once pink and delicate feet were now covered in dust, making them look less adorable. After stepping on them a few times, Fujiwara Rin took a handkerchief from the table, had her sit on it, and personally wiped her feet.

Is this love?

The Lady of the Imperial Household rested her hands on the table, looking up and smiling.

Its posture resembled that of a beautiful white bird frolicking against the backdrop of the Hakone mountains.

As he carefully wiped her feet, the Lady of the Palace reminisced about a series of events.