121: Chapter 121 Ji Ziyue collapsed! Her little grapes were pinched!

Lu Chen withdrew his gaze and looked up at the sky. Before he could finish savoring those few lines of doggerel in his mind, another gaze landed on his back.

It wasn't Yu Yao's; it was from the person beside him.

Ji Ziyue stood to his right, the narrow hem of her Purple Flowing Immortal Dress clinging to her calves. Her phoenix eyes were slightly narrowed, and a faint smile played on her lips.

She wasn't looking at Lu Chen; she was looking at the high platform.

When Yu Yao's gaze, filled with three parts resentment and four parts scrutiny, landed on Lu Chen, Ji Ziyue caught it.

The former Holy Lord of Yaochi, Yu Yao.

An emperor grade Alchemist and a Pseudo-Emperor Fifth Level, she held a transcendent status in the Central Continent.

Ji Ziyue recognized that kind of gaze because she had seen it before.

[Interesting.]

Her mind raced.

Yu Yao and Lu Chen had a history.

This information itself wasn't worth much—who hadn't this scoundrel Lu Chen had a history with?

But Yu Yao was currently sitting on the judging panel, while she, Ji Ziyue, was standing beside Lu Chen.

This spatial relationship was the key.

Showing off a current partner in front of an ex-girlfriend—even if she wasn't the current partner yet, as long as the performance was convincing, the fake could become real.

Truth and lies, lies and truth.

Once the rumors spread, she, Ji Ziyue, would be known as someone close to Emperor Yun.

By then, if he wanted to clear things up? It would be too late.

Ji Ziyue's phoenix eyes curved.

She shifted half a step toward Lu Chen, leaning closer.

Her shoulder almost touched his arm, and her long hair fell onto his sleeve.

Then she spoke.

Her voice wasn't loud, but it definitely wasn't quiet either.

“The road in Holy Pill City just now was so hard to walk~”

Her tone was drawn out, with the ending rising, carrying a hint of coquettish clinginess.

“I just sprained my ankle~ it hurts~”

Lu Chen's footsteps paused for a moment.

He glanced at Ji Ziyue.

This woman was a Pseudo-Emperor, and she was walking on a grand avenue paved with Azure Spirit Stones without a single grain of sand underfoot. How could she sprain her ankle?

He was about to speak.

“Oh my—”

Ji Ziyue's body tilted, and she fell toward him.

A Pseudo-Emperor Seventh Level taking a tumble.

The angle was precise, and the force was handled just right—neither as pathetic as a real fall nor as deliberate as a fake one.

It was in that subtle zone between the two.

Lu Chen's body reacted faster than his brain.

He reached out to catch her; his left hand went around Ji Ziyue's waist, while his right hand instinctively reached forward, trying to support her upper body.

Then his right palm sank into a mass of warm softness.

His entire palm was completely enveloped, and the sensation under his fingertips was excessively full.

Through the thin fabric of the Purple Flowing Immortal Dress, his knuckles could even feel the soft elasticity and warmth inside.

The neckline of the Purple Flowing Immortal Dress was already three inches lower than a standard palace dress. At the moment Ji Ziyue fell, her right hand had somehow tugged at her own collar.

The neckline gaped open wide.

Her fair collarbones were completely exposed, and below them was a vast expanse of snow-white skin.

The plump, full curves of her chest surged out from the loosened collar, pressed by Lu Chen's right palm, with a section overflowing from between his fingers.

The dress fabric was very thin, somewhat translucent against her skin. Lu Chen's fingers could even feel the shape and temperature changes of the skin beneath his palm.

Hottest at the center, slightly cool at the edges, with a faint protrusion.

Ji Ziyue nestled in his arms, looking up with watery phoenix eyes and her lips slightly parted, her breath hitting his chin.

Her voice was soft and sticky, exactly the same tone as yesterday after being whipped a dozen times with the small leather lash.

Lu Chen looked down and saw where his right hand was.

His five fingers were spread, perfectly cupped over the fullest part of Ji Ziyue's chest. The hollow of his palm was filled with softness, and his fingertips sank in half an inch.

The neckline was wide open, the spring scenery fully revealed; his palm was almost directly against her skin.

It turned out he had tasted an immortal grade fruit—a grape! It could also be called tofu! Big White Rabbit... candy!

“Hiss—”

Lu Chen sucked in a breath of cold air. The speed at which his right hand let go was faster than when he had shattered the Heavenly Gate with a single punch back in the day.

But the lingering sensation and warmth in his palm surged up to the back of his head the moment he retracted his hand.

He didn't waste time thinking, his hands hurriedly reaching for Ji Ziyue's open collar.

His right hand grabbed the left side of the collar and pulled it to the right, while his left hand grabbed the right side and pulled it to the left, overlapping the two pieces of fabric over Ji Ziyue's chest, tightening them and pulling them shut.

The movement was too hurried; his fingers touched the skin below her collarbone, and the cool, smooth sensation made his hand tremble again.

“Don't mess around! Don't move, I'm begging you!”

His fingers pinched the edge of the collar, for fear of touching somewhere he shouldn't again.

The fabric of the Purple Flowing Immortal Dress gathered under his hands, and the neckline was finally pulled back to a normal height.

Lu Chen's fingers released the collar, and he took a step back.

Ji Ziyue stood firm, reached out to tidy her hair, and looked up at him with a smile.

The smile was innocent, pure, and flawless.

Ye Qingxian stood three steps away, her large eyes wide and round, her twin tails frozen in shock.

Nangong Ziyi leaned against a nearby stone pillar with her arms crossed, her peach blossom eyes narrowed into slits. Her lips twitched a couple of times, but she didn't speak.

Several Cultivators nearby had stolen a glimpse of this scene, their expressions and gazes varied.

He sent a voice transmission to Ji Ziyue, lowering his voice to the absolute minimum, squeezing the words out through his teeth one by one.

“Ji Ziyue, behave yourself.”

Ji Ziyue tilted her head, her phoenix eyes curving into crescents, her voice sweeter than honey.

“I really did sprain my ankle~”

Lu Chen didn't pay her any more attention.

He turned around and continued walking.

In his mind, a gentle and lazy voice transmission drifted in.

It was Yu Yao's voice transmission.

“Little brother, you're living quite the carefree life now.”

Her tone was unhurried, as if she were tasting tea.

“With beauties in your arms of every kind—pure young girls, cold and elegant little vixens, and even this kind of charming older sister. How delightful.”

She paused for a breath.

“I suppose you've forgotten how good your elder sister is.”

Lu Chen's pace didn't falter, and the expression on his face didn't change.

He transmitted back, his tone lazy but with just the right amount of sincerity.

“What are you saying, sister?”

“They're the ones who cling to me. I have no such intentions; I am a pure-hearted person.”

He paused for a beat.

“I remember your kindness, sister. Back then, when I was young and reckless, I stole Yao Xi's Bellyband and was almost beaten to death.”

“It was you who protected me, sister, dealing with everyone in Yaochi. You spent so much effort talking them down so that my life afterward could be comfortable.”

“I have never forgotten that kindness.”

On the high platform, Yu Yao's fingers holding the teacup tightened slightly.

She hadn't expected Lu Chen to bring up those old matters.

When she spoke again, her tone softened a bit.

“How is that disciple of mine?”

“She loves you very dearly.”

Lu Chen's reply was swift.

“I know.”

The voice of his transmission lowered, carrying a rare solemnity.

“Don't push too hard, sister. I'll take it slow. I will find her and take responsibility.”

He paused for a breath.

“And the same goes for you, sister.”

On the high platform, Yu Yao didn't send another transmission.

She simply picked up her teacup, took a sip, and looked past the crowd at the back of the black-robed young man in the square.

A faint, almost imperceptible curve appeared at the corner of her lips.

---

At the edge of the square, Ji Ziyue trailed half a step behind Lu Chen.

Her gaze was accurately directed toward the judging panel on the high platform.

Yu Yao was also looking at her, and their gazes collided in mid-air.

Ji Ziyue's lips curled up, and she gave a light wink with her right eye.

The provocative intent was self-evident.

Yu Yao set down her teacup, her eyes narrowing slightly.