Aim for his weak spot!

Chapter 081: Strike Him Where It Hurts!

Women are born with an instinctive intuition for when a kiss is coming. It matters not whether the woman is wed or unwed.

Zhu Xishi's heart inexplicably skipped a beat, and she instinctively leaned back, anxious to evade. Yet Mu Zhijin's arm was already behind her waist; at the merest hint of her retreat, his grip tightened, gently drawing her into his embrace.

His eyelids were half-lowered, lashes long and thick—so close, and still Zhu Xishi could not discern what emotions flickered in his eyes.

To her, he was the man who had only that morning refused her.

His feverish breath drew nearer and nearer, and Zhu Xishi felt as though a fire had been lit within her. The heat surged up, fierce and sudden. She would not allow herself to be kissed by a man who had just turned her away!

“No—” Her parted lips intended to reject, but the sound became an invitation.

She could not have known how radiant she looked when angered, how much she resembled his beloved sunflowers in full, blazing bloom. He had always been drawn to such wild, self-possessed passion. If her lips, stained red from braised pork earlier, had merely teased his desire, then now, her wide, furious gaze ignited his possessiveness in a roaring blaze.

As her jaw slackened, he pressed his advantage, unceremoniously claiming her mouth. Her lips were soft as velvet, her taste rich and intoxicating. Though he had seen many pigs run, he had never tasted pork—yet Mu Zhijin, in that instant, became a natural, his jaw tight as he drew her in, savoring every taste.

Zhu Xishi's eyes widened further, her tongue pushing outward in an effort to dislodge the intruder. But as their tongues met, something electric shot through them both, making them shudder in tandem. Zhu Xishi froze, startled, but Mu Zhijin, like a cat corrupted by the scent of fish, twined his tongue around hers.

It was impossible to say where this urgency sprang from, but his willingness to surrender was as swift and thorough as a routed army. At three, when he first learned his mother came from the dust of the world, he had not felt such need to seek the truth; at eight, when his mother revealed the identity of his father, he had not rushed to the capital with such haste; at sixteen, when he was stripped of his title the very day he passed the imperial exam, he had not been so desperate to beg for a reversal of fate. Growing up alone, he had long since cultivated caution and restraint. This kind of thoughtless, instinctive urgency—he had never imagined he would experience it.

Yet when this foreign feeling crashed over him, he became a child with a long-awaited new toy, instantly feverish and unwilling to let go.

She had said: lick—use the tip of your tongue to taste, bit by bit.
She had said: suck—curl your tongue, use only your lips, soft and gentle.
She had said: bite—gently bring your teeth together, grinding slowly.
She had said: entwine—ah, but she hadn't yet told him about “entwine”! Yet, having passed the first three hurdles, he’d already mastered the essence of the fourth.

One hand gripped Zhu Xishi's arms behind her back, trapping her in his hold; the other supported her neck as it arched. His tongue curled, seeking hers.

She dodged left, and he pursued left; she drew back right, and he followed right. Her evasion only fueled his relentless pursuit. The chase between them set her body ablaze.

Their breath was hot, their joined lips burning, the palm at her nape ablaze, and their entwined bodies kindled wave after wave of heat, searing enough to turn thought to ash.

Zhu Xishi’s eyes unfocused, yet her mind grew sharper. Yes, she could not read his expression, but she remembered clearly the impassive look on his face when he replied “for no reason.” She could not tell if his heart raced in earnest or mere pretense, but her own heart was pounding out of control.

This feeling was too new, too intense, making her entire being cry out for more. Yet her mind only grew clearer.

The man before her was not hers.

Once, her man had refused to touch her for another woman, and in the end, left her for that woman without a backward glance. Her youthful infatuation had faded as quickly as it had blossomed. Since then, she’d sworn to herself: if a man was not hers, no matter how much she liked him, she would never hand over her heart first.

She could not escape by arching her waist or drawing back her neck. Then—

She bent her knee, thrust upward—aiming straight for the vital spot of the shameless man who had refused her but now forced a kiss upon her.

Her movement was so swift and ruthless, and the man, newly awakened to such pleasures, so engrossed in his “toy,” that her attack landed unerringly.

Mu Zhijin let out a muffled groan, doubled over, released her, clutching his groin in agony.

Freed at last, Zhu Xishi did not spare him a glance. She raised her right hand and, with a sudden swing, aimed a slap at Mu Zhijin’s face.

Mu Zhijin realized her intent, but with his hands full and unable to parry with inner strength, he could only stagger backward, bent over. By chance, he stumbled over a table leg, lost his balance, and collapsed onto the floor with a thud. The table shuddered from the impact, a bowl of soup slid off, and its contents splashed over his shoulder, chest, and abdomen, soaking the hand still pressed to his legs.

The soup’s vibrant color, against his black robes and pale skin, made for a striking scene—one that left Zhu Xishi flushed with humiliation and fury.

What did his actions mean? Did he, having rejected her, still wish to take liberties as those crude butchers did?

“Trying to take advantage of me? Go to hell!” Zhu Xishi, indignant and unyielding, stomped hard on Mu Zhijin’s leg stretched across the floor.

He groaned again, and as he looked up, Zhu Xishi stepped over him and strode off without a backward glance.

From outside the door and behind the window, raucous laughter exploded.

Heartless Fang Rulai, and the ever-mischievous Guan Shiyin.

“Little Lady Monk, I stopped you from making a sound right away—that was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?”

“Right, my foot!” Fang Rulai snapped, sobered by laughter. “You just wanted to give your brother a chance, that’s why you silenced me!”

Her intention was merely to let Zhu Xishi tempt Mu Zhijin to the edge, so that thoughts of her would haunt his dreams. She had never intended to let him take advantage first. When Mu Zhijin swept into the room like a gust of wind, she had sensed that heated tension and immediately wanted to warn Zhu Xishi to escape—the proper punishment for a man who speaks with a forked tongue.

Yet Guan Shiyin had suddenly lunged out, muffled her, and dragged her behind the window to create an illusion that the coast was clear. Wasn’t this just aiding and abetting his brother’s theft?

“Men are all scoundrels!” Fang Rulai kicked Guan Shiyin’s shin and darted off after Zhu Xishi.

Guan Shiyin obligingly cried out in pain, though his face brimmed with indulgent amusement; in her eyes, he was more and more a man, wasn’t he?

When Fang Rulai’s figure disappeared, Guan Shiyin vaulted effortlessly onto the windowsill.

“Hey, brother, that’s enough. No matter how long you pretend to be in pain, that little widow won’t come back to comfort you.”

A man with martial arts skills, and not low ones at that, would always protect his vital parts. Even if he’d let his guard down, instinct would kick in halfway through the pain to buffer the blow. To be struck by a woman and then clumsily overturn a table and spill soup? Nonsense! If true, the man was either a born fool or putting on a show.

Within the room, Mu Zhijin rose at the sound of his name. His features were composed, betraying no trace of the agony he’d feigned moments before.

“Shiyin!”

He called out, and Guan Shiyin tumbled down from the windowsill.

Fifteen years of friendship, ever since they first fought as children—this was the first time he had addressed him so formally.

It sent a chill down Guan Shiyin’s spine.

Oblivious, Mu Zhijin ran his tongue over the back of his hand, savoring a lingering taste. “In the end, we’ll win, won’t we?”

“...Of course!”

“You know I’ve never feared anything, right?”

“Of—course!”

“Then why am I suddenly afraid? Why am I starting to lose faith in the conviction we’ve held for fifteen years?”

Guan Shiyin dusted himself off and grinned. “Is our little brother finally experiencing the woes of belated adolescent longing? Come here, let big brother give you a hug!”

Whoosh—a soup bowl sailed straight for Guan Shiyin’s face.

Mu Zhijin’s voice was cold as ice: “Idiot, if you keep calling yourself ‘big brother’ around me, I’ll have to put you in your place.”

Guan Shiyin dodged easily, turning serious. “You’ve changed.”

Not long ago, they’d spoken of this in Fang Rulai’s room. Now, the roles were reversed.

“To be precise, I’m still deciding whether to change.” Mu Zhijin brought his hand to his nose, inhaling the faint aroma of braised pork.

A flicker of disapproval crossed Guan Shiyin’s eyes. “I almost understand why that little monk let the widow seduce you but stopped you from going further—you really are asking for a beating.”

He’d hugged her, kissed her, and now, to avoid explaining himself, had pretended to have been struck just to divert attention. And now he claimed he still had to consider?

“Why couldn’t the widow have kicked you harder?” Guan Shiyin sighed.

Mu Zhijin sighed as well. “Others might not know who I am, but you do. If things fail, you and I won’t escape with our lives; if things succeed, my fate remains uncertain. With my identity, should I, like my feckless father, indulge in fleeting pleasures and leave her to face life and death alone?”

He knew too well the loneliness of living alone. He could not bear to win a heart only to abandon it to solitude.

Guan Shiyin kicked the soup bowl back, but not at Mu Zhijin’s face—rather, it smashed against the wall, splattering soup over Mu Zhijin’s face and clothes.

“Jinflower, enough already! What identity? To me and the sickly one, you’re you—never have you been your shameless father’s son. Success is certain, and you won’t be implicated, that’s certain too. If you want a woman, go after her! If you don’t, leave her be! Do you know how shameless you are, claiming to act for her good while selfishly refusing to let go?”

“I know. Not just shameless—also deserving of a beating.” Mu Zhijin’s smile was bitter. “But what can I do? My nature was shaped long ago. While the outcome remains uncertain, I can’t be as carefree as you, juggling love and duty with ease. In less than three days, you’ll all return to Shengjing, but I must stay in Pingcheng until I have complete control and a proper reason to return. Should I leave her longing for me in Shengjing, or keep her here, where danger lurks at every turn?”

He abruptly swung his hand behind him and strode for the door. “Both options are unbearable. So, the kick—I accept it.”

Outside, the sun still shone warmly, but Mu Zhijin walked away beneath a pall of late autumn’s desolation.

Guan Shiyin glared after him, speechless, before stamping his foot and shouting, “Fine! Noble, suffering, righteous—you’ll die a lonely old man!”

Rounding the courtyard corner, out of Guan Shiyin’s sight, Mu Zhijin stopped and whispered, “I’m already beginning to understand.”

He’d sensed it from the moment Zhu Xishi bent her knee. A woman so fiery and bold, who, after his forceful kiss, retaliated rather than succumbed to shame—if he said nothing, she would surely draw a clear line between them. And how could such a dazzling woman remain alone for life? The men of Shengjing were not blind.

A sudden chill gripped Mu Zhijin. Almost all the visible powers in Shengjing belonged to the Crown Prince. Should he suggest to the Second Prince that all these men be eliminated, to clear the way? Yes, that would do. Then, even if that proud widow wished to remarry, she would have no suitable candidates and would have to wait for him. By then, with the world settled, he could...

Ah, what a plan! He would immediately send a secret letter to the Second Prince, instructing him to begin targeting their enemies.

His steps grew light, but before he could reach his study, a crowd surged from the government hall and blocked his way.

“Sir, please act as our wedding witness!”

What? But they were all men!

“We want to marry Miss Fang and Miss Zhu!”

Special thanks to dear &! Manman! ^_$ for the diamond encouragement! Is this my tuition for learning the four-character principle? Oh, my friend, you’re too generous! Even without tuition, Qingye would teach you with all her heart! Stay tuned~