Handan Hall.
The night wind was refreshing, but the room grew hotter and hotter. The scorching heat wasn't just coming from him.
It was coming from her, too.
Her mind was a chaotic mess, churned by the overwhelming tide of passion. She felt awful. In truth, her body didn't reject his intimacy; it even shamelessly wanted to press against him.
The moment his hand slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, clarity instantly returned to Ji Qingwu's eyes. She reacted in a flash, reaching out to grab his hand.
She stubbornly met his dark eyes, which seemed capable of devouring everything.
In a voice barely above a whisper, Emperor Wu Su called her name.
"Ah Wu."
His tone was the very picture of intimacy, as if tinged with a hint of prayer.
Ji Qingwu, however, did not hesitate. She pressed her forehead against his chest and shifted her hips away from his touch—a silent, yet clear, rejection to end it.
'Before I've figured this all out...'
'No.'
