The skin of her chin, caught in Emperor Wu Su's grip, ached.
Ji Qingwu's body trembled and her legs grew weak. She wanted to escape this feeling of being on the verge of being devoured.
Her mind was a muddled mess. The distant sound of chanting sutras, the nearby entanglement of lips and teeth, the ragged breaths—it all reached Ji Qingwu's ears with painful clarity.
The hand she had clutching his arm was about to lose all its strength.
He finally pulled away slightly, his gaze fixed on her lips, which were swollen and crimson from his kisses.
"Compared to Li Chengxun, how am I?"
Ji Qingwu's mind was still reeling, and she subconsciously blurted out her true thoughts. "How could he possibly compare? The two of you are as different as the heavens and the earth."
Emperor Wu Su looked into her glistening eyes and knew she was telling the truth.
