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Upon entering a room, Zhao Gang abruptly picked up Ling Xue and hurried towards the bed. Ling Xue, panicking, quickly exclaimed, "In my hometown, there are customs that say this can only happen after the wedding."
Zhao Gang furrowed his brow and replied firmly, "There are no such customs here."
In the tense atmosphere, the two shared a brief moment of intimate contact. Yet, Ling Xue's heart was filled with fear and confusion; she felt no warmth at all, only as if she had been swept into an uncontrollable storm.
After a moment, Zhao Gang slowly opened his eyes, looking at Ling Xue with a satisfied smile that curved at the corners of his mouth. His voice carried a hint of laziness as he said, "Xue, today you and I are like this; it is quite something."
Ling Xue slightly turned her face away, her expression cold and her tone flat. "Are you satisfied now? But this is not what I desire. In my hometown, marriage requires solemn rituals; it cannot be so hasty."
Hearing Ling Xue's words, the satisfaction on Zhao Gang's face faltered slightly. He looked at her indifferent expression and felt a twinge of guilt. "Xue, I know today’s events were somewhat rushed, but my feelings for you are genuine."
Zhao Gang spoke softly, reaching out to take Ling Xue's hand. However, she withdrew from his touch, her eyes filled with disappointment. "Feelings? Your feelings mean disregarding my emotions and forcing me like this? I am already terrified and confused in this world; you only make me feel more lost."
Zhao Gang sighed helplessly. "Xue, I acted on impulse. I will make amends for my mistakes and will respect your wishes in the future."
Ling Xue silently gazed at Zhao Gang, a flicker of grievance in her eyes. Seeing her delicate appearance stirred a sense of guilt within him, yet he stubbornly retorted, "We both have our needs, and you clearly enjoyed it just now."
With tears welling in her eyes and her eyelids reddening, Ling Xue bit her lip. "How can you say such irresponsible things? If you force me again next time, I will never let you succeed even if it costs me my life."
Zhao Gang watched as Ling Xue's face flushed with anger; even her fair skin seemed to bristle with goosebumps. Looking at the woman he genuinely liked filled him with regret—such a beautiful woman.
Unable to resist any longer, he pulled Ling Xue close and kissed her softly. "My little beauty, about that wedding—I can arrange it. From now on, you will be the mistress of this place."
As he spoke, his hands began to wander unconsciously again. Ling Xue did not resist him, but the distance and displeasure in her gaze were unmistakable.
Yet Zhao Gang was full of energy; Ling Xue felt herself becoming merely an outlet for his desires as she silently endured his primal urges.
The next morning, while Zhao Gang was still fast asleep, Ling Xue had already awakened. Recalling the tempestuous night before made her feel a dull ache in her lower body; her entire being felt stiff and devoid of the joy she once knew. Although she found herself inexplicably in this world and had experienced many storms before—matters of chastity were no longer significant to her—she still could not muster any feelings for Zhao Gang.
Any gratitude she might have felt had dissipated into thin air last night. If she relied solely on her looks, she should be worthy of being matched with the king of this place.
Ling Xue rose from the bed and pushed aside Zhao Gang's sweat-drenched arm and roughened hand. Just thinking about how those hands had caused her pain made her unable to resist dropping them heavily back onto the bed without concern for whether it hurt him.
In an unfortunate moment of carelessness, Zhao Gang's powerful thigh pressed down on her waist once more.
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