141: Chapter 141 So cool...so comfortable

Then down to her slender waist and straight legs.

"Wen Yulan, do you know how long I've waited for this day? Two years, two whole years. Today, you are finally mine. I will cherish you well and make you feel like you're in heaven."

Wen Yulan closed her eyes, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes, her heart filled with despair and humiliation.

She didn't even have the strength to bite her tongue and commit suicide, only able to let her tears flow silently.

Han Ming's hand slid down from her chin, brushing past her neck, and landed on her shoulder.

His fingertips hooked the slipping fabric, just about to reach further down—

Just at this moment, a cold, sharp voice came from behind.

Carrying a bone-chilling coldness, like ice from the Nine Netherworlds, it instantly froze everything.

"Are you done playing? Then it should be my turn, right?"

Han Ming stiffened all over, his fingers frozen in mid-air, his entire body as if under a binding spell.

He turned his head abruptly, his eyes filled with terror.

A black figure stepped slowly from behind a tree, his posture as straight as a pine, his face handsome and stern.

It was none other than Ye Yun, who had just left.

He stood with his arms crossed, leaning lazily against the tree trunk, a faint smile hanging on the corners of his mouth.

Those deep eyes were calm as water, yet they sent shivers down one's spine.

He seemed to have been watching here for a long time, watching a good show.

Han Ming's expression changed drastically; he stood up abruptly, subconsciously retreating several steps, his voice trembling.

"You... why are you still here? Didn't you leave?"

Ye Yun looked at him, his eyes filled with mockery, the smile on his lips deepening slightly.

"I left, and then I came back. What, not welcoming? Or are you saying I interrupted your good time?"

Han Ming's face turned livid, and he roared with a fierce expression that masked his inner cowardice, though his voice carried uncontrollable fear.

"Brat, I advise you not to meddle in other people's business! This is an internal matter of the Qingfeng Sword Sect, it has nothing to do with you!"

"Get lost if you know what's good for you! My father is Han Zhengyu, an Inner Sect Elder of the Qingfeng Sword Sect; you cannot afford to offend him!"

Ye Yun smiled; the smile was faint and light, yet it made Han Ming's back chill and his legs go weak.

He walked forward slowly, every step unhurried.

Yet it carried a suffocating pressure, as if a great mountain were slowly pressing down.

"An internal matter of the Qingfeng Sword Sect?"

He said indifferently, his tone full of disdain.

"That's perfect, then killing you won't count as meddling."

Han Ming's face turned as pale as paper, and he finally remembered the youth before him.

It was the terrifying existence capable of killing two Third Level Middle Stage Peak Yao Beast with one sword.

He turned and fled, scrambling and crawling, not even having the courage to look back, rushing desperately into the depths of the dense forest.

But after running only two steps, a fiery red sword light had already caught up to him.

"No—!"

Han Ming screamed, trying his best to urge his Mystic Power to defend, his hands waving wildly in front of him.

But his cultivation at the Great Martial Master Sixth Level was like an ant trying to shake a tree in front of Ye Yun.

The burning snow sword pierced through his chest, blood gushing like a spring, exploding into a mist of blood in the air.

Han Ming widened his eyes, looking down at the sword tip protruding from his chest, his blood dripping on the fiery red sword body.

His lips moved a few times, wanting to say something, but he could only spit out a mouthful of bloody foam before crashing to the ground, never able to get up again.

Until his death, he could not believe that he would die here.

Ye Yun sheathed his sword, not even glancing at the corpse.

He turned to look at Su Wan, who was huddled under a tree, and said indifferently, his voice calm yet unquestionable.

"Get lost."

Su Wan, as if granted amnesty, scrambled into the dense forest.

She didn't even dare to look back, and in the blink of an eye, she vanished without a trace.

Only the sound of messy footsteps remained, gradually fading away.

Ye Yun turned around and walked to Wen Yulan.

She sat slumped on the ground, her whole body flushed with an unnatural crimson, her clothes torn into a mess by herself.

The fabric on her shoulder had completely slipped off, revealing a large expanse of jade-white skin, her collarbone as exquisite as if carved.

Further down, those full curves rose and fell violently with her rapid breathing, almost bursting through her thin undergarment.

The ties of her undergarment had long since loosened, half-covering and half-revealing, exposing a glimpse of spring.

Her snow-white skin glowed with an alluring luster in the dim forest.

Her eyes were unfocused, her pupils dilated, and unbearable moans spilled from her mouth.

Her hands wandered uncontrollably over her own body, her fingernails leaving shallow red marks on her skin.

Wanting to alleviate that dry heat that was almost burning through her reason.

Ye Yun squatted down and looked at her.

Wen Yulan's unfocused gaze landed on his face, and she spoke with difficulty.

Her voice was hoarse and seductive, carrying uncontrollable trembling.

"Save, save me..."

She reached out, her scorching fingers touching the back of Ye Yun's hand.

She could not bear to let go, gripping it tightly, as if clutching the last straw of life.

Those hands were scorching like fire, yet trembling violently.

Ye Yun did not speak; he bent down and picked her up.

Wen Yulan's body was scorching like fire, pressing tightly against his chest, her hands wrapping around his neck.

Burying her burning cheek in the crook of his neck, she greedily drank in the cool scent from his body.

Her lips kissed his chin and Adam's apple indiscriminately, broken murmurs spilling from her mouth.

"So cool... so comfortable."

Ye Yun looked down at the graceful figure in his arms, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

Holding her, his figure flickered and vanished into the depths of the dense forest.

Behind him, only the corpses covering the ground and the unextinguished campfire remained, gradually cooling in the wind.

...

A quarter of an hour later.

Ye Yun carried Wen Yulan, traveling through the depths of the dense forest.

The woman in his arms was scorching like fire, her cheek pressed against his neck, her hot breath spraying onto his skin.

Accompanied by uncontrollable panting.

Her hands tightly wrapped around his neck, her fingers unconsciously stroking his back.

Broken murmurs constantly spilled from her mouth.

"So hot... so uncomfortable."

Ye Yun quickened his pace, his gaze scanning the surroundings, looking for a suitable place to rest.

Finally, behind a corner of a cliff, he discovered a hidden small valley.

The valley entrance was covered by vines; if one didn't look carefully, it would be impossible to discover.

He pushed aside the vines and flashed inside, carrying Wen Yulan.

The valley was not large, surrounded by mountains on all sides, and filled with soft green grass.

A small stream seeped out from a crack in the cliff, gathering into a small pool.

Sunlight shone down through the gap at the top of the valley, spreading a patch of warm golden light spots on the ground, quiet and hidden.

In the valley, a Third Level Early Stage Yao Beast was drinking water by the stream; it was a Green-Maned Wolf.

Its body was sturdy, and its whole body exuded a fierce aura.

It sensed someone intruding, turned abruptly, baring its fangs, and let out a low growl from its throat.

Ye Yun didn't even look, holding Wen Yulan with his left hand, while drawing the burning snow sword with his right, waving it casually.

A fiery red sword light flashed by, and the Green-Maned Wolf didn't even have time to scream before its head rolled to the ground.

Blood gushed, and the headless corpse crashed to the ground.

Ye Yun sheathed his sword, not even lifting an eyelid, as if he had just swatted a mosquito to death.