77: Chapter 77 The Taste of Master (Part 1): The Sweetest Fruit is the Ripe Fruit

Inside the Bedchamber, as the last candle was extinguished by a gust of wind, the entire world seemed to sink into the tender night at this moment.

Only the moonlight streaming through the window, like flowing quicksilver, dappled the large silk-cloud soft couch, stretching the two overlapping figures into long, ambiguous shadows.

A heart-pounding silence filled the air, with only the sounds of two breaths gradually merging—one heavy as fire, the other suppressed like silk.

“Master...”

Xu Chen's voice rang out in the darkness, no longer with his usual banter and teasing, but carrying an unprecedented deep and magnetic quality, as if resonating from the depths of his chest. Every word was like an electrified hook, lightly scratching at the tip of Ye Qingwu's heart.

Ye Qingwu leaned against the soft brocade quilt, her hands gripping the bedsheets tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white from the exertion.

She could clearly feel a scorching breath approaching her. That masculine aura belonging to a young man, full of aggression and vitality, instantly enveloped her entire being.

“Don't... don't come over...”

She tremblingly reached out her hand, wanting to push against the chest that was constantly pressing down, attempting to hold her last line of defense.

However, when her fingertips touched that firm, warm muscle, the strength she originally intended for rejection instantly turned into a pool of spring water under that scalding body temperature.

She had practiced cultivation for hundreds of years, always high above the clouds and revered by thousands. She was the Supreme Elder of the Sword Sect and the ice-pure Saintess in the hearts of countless people. Her heart had long been polished by the long years to be as calm as an ancient well.

But tonight.

A huge stone had been cast into this ancient well.

“Master, your hand is shaking.”

Xu Chen was in no hurry to go further. He took the boneless, jade-like hand pressed against his chest and kissed it lightly near his lips.

The warm and moist sensation spread along the lines of her palm. Ye Qingwu felt a shiver run through her whole body, as if a faint electric current had rushed straight from her arm to the top of her head, making her mind go blank for a moment.

“I... I'm not...”

She retorted stubbornly, but her voice was so soft and sweet that even she felt ashamed.

“Not yet?”

Xu Chen chuckled softly, the sound exceptionally alluring in the darkness.

He slowly leaned down, his nose lightly brushing against her cheek, bringing a wave of tingling tremors. His movements were extremely gentle, yet carried an unquestionable sense of control, dismantling all the disguises of this Saint-level powerhouse bit by bit.

“Master, you can lie to others, but you can't lie to me.”

“Your body... is much more honest than your mouth.”

As his words fell, a scorching large hand slowly moved up along the perfect curve of her waist.

Through the thin layer of the Flowing Cloud Palace Dress, Ye Qingwu could clearly feel the lines and temperature of that palm. It was like a branding iron, igniting the flames that had been dormant in her body for many years wherever it passed.

“Mm...”

Ye Qingwu let out an uncontrollable low moan, her body arching like an electric shock.

The Innate Alluring Bone in her body seemed to have completely awakened at this moment.

The instinctive longing that she had forcibly suppressed with her Sword Intent for hundreds of years, when meeting Xu Chen's overbearing Primordial Pure Yang Qi, was like dry wood meeting a raging fire, instantly forming a prairie fire.

Ye Qingwu felt as if she had been thrown into a giant furnace, her reason melting bit by bit under the high temperature. The clarity in her eyes gradually receded, replaced by a misty haze.

“Chener...”

This call completely shattered the thin paper between them called 'master-disciple ethics.'

“I'm here.”

Xu Chen responded to her, his voice terrifyingly hoarse.

He could feel the trembling and unease of the beauty in his arms, and he could also feel the desire hidden beneath her resistance.

This was a Saint.

A peerless, high-and-mighty beautiful master.

Yet at this moment, she was like a helpless little girl, blooming with the most primitive and charming grace in his arms.

This intense sense of contrast caused the desire for conquest in Xu Chen's heart to instantly reach its peak.

“Master, relax.”

“Leave everything to me.”

“I will take you to see... a world you have never seen before.”

With the rustling sound of clothes rubbing together, that pale purple palace dress symbolizing the identity of the Supreme Elder slid slowly off the bed like a withered flower petal.

Under the moonlight.

That flawless body, like mutton-fat white jade, was finally revealed without reservation before Xu Chen's eyes.

Although she was thousands of years old, time seemed to have left no marks on her body; instead, it had endowed her with a mature charm that young girls did not possess.

Plump but not bloated, tight and elastic.

Every inch of her skin emitted a faint fragrance. It was her unique body scent, and also the most lethal aphrodisiac of the night.

“So beautiful.”

Xu Chen praised sincerely.

Ye Qingwu closed her eyes tightly in shame, her long eyelashes trembling violently like the wings of a startled butterfly. She didn't dare to look, and even less dared to think about what would happen next.

But she didn't push him away.

On the contrary, she reached out her arms and wrapped them around the neck of the man who was about to bring her a new life.

This was a form of tacit consent.

When the two scalding bodies finally pressed together without any obstruction in this quiet night, Ye Qingwu couldn't help but let out a satisfied yet painful sigh.

Harmony of Yin and Yang, the resonance of dragon and phoenix.

This great joy originating from the source of life was far more addictive than physical pleasure.

“Ah...”

Ye Qingwu threw back her head, her waterfall-like black hair scattered across the pillow.

All the so-called reserve and concerns were thrown to the winds.

At this moment.

She was just a woman.

A woman filled with love and longing for more.

The temperature inside the Bedchamber grew higher and higher.

The large silk-cloud bed, carrying the madness and love of the two, began to emit rhythmic, gentle creaks.

The wind outside stopped, seemingly ashamed to peek at the spring scenery inside.

Only the faint, low moans and soft songs, like intermittent musical movements, echoed on the silent Forgetting Love Peak.