8: Chapter 8 Am I not beautiful?

Seeing that tangled expression on Ye Xiaoyao's face—a clear "I'd be crazy to believe you" look that he dared not voice—the Saintess felt a hint of impatience mix with her small sense of triumph.

She simply stood up, her skirt blooming like a dark lotus, and walked gracefully toward Ye Xiaoyao.

"Do you not believe what I just said?"

Her voice softened, deliberately carrying a hint of aggrieved inflection at the end.

"I truly like your handsome appearance."

Ye Xiaoyao snapped back to his senses instantly, springing up from his chair and bowing in a movement so fast it seemed practiced a thousand times over.

"Your Highness the Saintess, please understand, I naturally believe what you say, it is just..."

He paused, his eyes quickly scanning the approaching figure of the Saintess before lowering his gaze: "It is just that this Junior has mediocre Aptitude and truly is not worthy of the Saintess's heavenly talent.

I worry about what outsiders might say, claiming that the Saintess has taken a... well, a good-for-nothing as a Dao Companion. This matter concerns the Saintess's reputation, so I ask that Your Highness consider it carefully."

Ye Xiaoyao said this deliberately to test and uncover the Saintess's true purpose.

The Saintess paused for a moment.

Damn.

Her heart skipped a beat. This kid looks innocent, but he has quite a few tricks up his sleeve.

Is he trying to back out?

No, the Pure Yang Sacred Body is a once-in-a-century occurrence; the plan must not go wrong.

It seems... I have to go all out!

If the soft approach doesn't work, then I'll try something even softer.

The cultivation world says the Joyful Union Sect is skilled in seduction techniques, but they don't know that the lineage of the Yin Yang Sect's Saintess has always had a profound understanding of the harmonization of Yin and Yang.

It's just that she has always been cold and aloof, never having used such methods before.

Today, it seems she must make an exception.

"Outsiders' opinions?"

The Saintess chuckled, her footsteps not stopping, but rather taking another step closer.

"In my actions, why should I care about the idle chatter of others?"

The distance between the two was now less than three feet.

Ye Xiaoyao smelled a faint fragrance emanating from the Saintess; it was hard to tell what kind of flower it was, but it was elegant with a hint of sweetness, drilling straight into his nose.

He could even faintly see the delicate texture of her skin at the neckline of her black dress.

At this distance... I'm afraid she really might just have her way with me.

The sense of oppression was too strong; he subconsciously stepped back.

One step. Two steps.

A trace of cunning flashed in the Saintess's eyes as she continued to press forward.

She didn't walk fast, her every step as light as a cat's tread.

But the aura she emitted made it difficult for Ye Xiaoyao to resist.

Ye Xiaoyao's back suddenly hit something cold and hard.

It was the edge of that Cold Jade Bed.

He had nowhere left to retreat; as the edge of the bed touched the back of his knees, he lost his center of gravity, lost his balance, and plopped into the soft bedding.

The coldness of the jade bed against his body made him shudder.

As he looked up, directly in front of his line of sight was the Saintess's figure looking down at him from above, those proud curves almost pressed right in front of his face.

Ye Xiaoyao's breath hitched, and he was secretly startled.

Earlier, when observing from afar on the stage, he hadn't dared to look too closely, only feeling that the Saintess's figure was graceful.

Later, when on the Flying Sword, he could only see the Saintess's back.

Now facing her head-on, at such close range, he finally truly felt what it meant—round as the full moon, and as large as watermelons!!

The full curves supported the breathtaking silhouette of her black dress, rising and falling slightly with her breathing; indeed... the scale was astonishing.

"Calm down, Ye Xiaoyao, you are a man who has seen the world!"

He frantically warned himself internally, but his Soul from Blue Star and the instincts of this eighteen-year-old body were battling fiercely.

The Saintess took in all his subtle reactions, and the slight annoyance she felt from her plan being thwarted suddenly turned into a strange sense of control.

She put her hands on her hips; this slightly petulant gesture, when done by her, actually had a vivid sense of contrast.

"Martial Nephew Ye."

She leaned over slightly, closing the distance between them, and chided with a breath as sweet as orchids: "Why are you so afraid of me? Could it be..."

She deliberately dragged out the end of her sentence, her eyes shifting: "Could it be that I, your sister, am not beautiful?"

While speaking, she lifted her right hand slightly, grasped the hem of her black dress on one side, and slowly lifted it upward.

A section of her lower leg was gradually exposed to the air.

The leg shape was extremely beautiful, the lines smooth and straight, the skin a flawless cold white, appearing as if it had its own soft lighting in the slightly dim boudoir.

The delicate texture, the exquisite joints at the ankle—every detail was searingly clear.

Ye Xiaoyao's throat went dry.

What was even more fatal was that the Saintess actually raised her right leg and gently pressed that bare jade foot against his chest.

The sole of her foot was warm and soft, carrying the delicate touch unique to a young girl's skin, her five toes rounded like pearls, the nails trimmed neatly and cleanly, showing a healthy pale pink.

Just like that, through his thin Dao robe, it pressed firmly against the area over his heart.

Ye Xiaoyao felt as if a piece of red-hot coal had been thrown into his chest.

A surge of heat exploded from the point of contact, rushing through his limbs and bones.

Even though he had gone through countless tests in the romance field in his past life, at this moment, he was made unbearably itchy by the Saintess's such straightforward teasing.

A few disrespectful thoughts flashed through his mind, such as grabbing this foot, pulling her over, and then... pressing this proud yet alluring Saintess deep into the jade bed.

Ye Xiaoyao bit the tip of his tongue sharply, the stinging pain bringing a moment of clarity, and suppressed the restlessness in his heart.

"Your Highness the Saintess."

His voice was a bit hoarse, and he tried hard to squeeze out a helpless smile, barely saying: "Why so impatient? This Martial Nephew... is not yet prepared."

He wanted to stand up and get rid of this fatal contact.

But as soon as he moved, his shoulder was gently held down by a slightly cool, soft hand.

That hand seemed to use no force, but it felt as heavy as a thousand jun, pinning him firmly in place.

Ye Xiaoyao struggled a bit, but surprisingly couldn't get up.

The Saintess smiled cunningly, her eyes curving into crescents, while her right foot restlessly rubbed against his chest.

"Martial Nephew Ye."

Her voice was as sweet as if it had been soaked in honey, carrying an unmistakable teasing tone.

"Do you like... my jade feet?"

As she spoke, her toes curled and stretched, the pink sole of her foot rubbing almost against his lapel, bringing a tingling sensation.

She also deliberately blinked, casting a shy yet alluring wink.

As her eyes shifted, she seemed to possess ten thousand types of charm.

Ye Xiaoyao thought to himself, "Not good."

Playing with fire!

The Saintess is absolutely playing with fire!

To actually seduce him like this.

No, this is no longer seduction; this is blatant molestation and coercion.

"Hmm?"

Seeing Ye Xiaoyao pursing his lips and remaining silent for a long time, the Saintess let out a soft hum from her nose.

At the same time, a faint Spiritual Pressure permeated from her body.

That Spiritual Pressure was not violent, but like waves of the tide, slowly and firmly wrapping around Ye Xiaoyao.

The Spiritual Pressure of a Foundation Establishment Great Perfection, even if only one percent was released, was enough to make him, at the Qi Refining Third Layer, have difficulty breathing and his Qi circulation to become sluggish.

She chided slightly, the end of her sentence rising: "Speak~"

Fine sweat seeped from Ye Xiaoyao's forehead; in the face of this absolute gap in power, any little tricks seemed ridiculous.

He took a deep breath, and forced by the powerful Spiritual Pressure vaguely emanating, he had to squeeze two words through his teeth.

"Like."

"Like what?"

The Saintess pressed on, her toes drawing a small circle on his chest.

"...Jade feet."

"Whose jade feet?"

Ye Xiaoyao closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he said resignedly: "The Saintess's... oh no, it's yours, Sister."

"So obedient."

Upon hearing this, the Saintess smiled beautifully, a smile so bright it could dazzle one's eyes.

She pushed her luck: "Then... say it all together once?"

Ye Xiaoyao stiffened all over.

He was stunned.

Insult to character!

This is a blatant insult to character!

How is this any different from being a male model on Blue Star, forced by a wealthy woman to read shameful lines while she points a whip at you?

The only difference might be that the person in front of him is hundreds or thousands of times more beautiful than most wealthy women, but that doesn't change the fact that he is being coerced.

So Ye Xiaoyao petulantly turned his head to the side, his jawline tensed tightly, his lips pressed into a straight line, clearly signaling that he would not follow the order.

He wanted to see where the Saintess's bottom line was.

The smile on the Saintess's face faded slightly.

"Turn your face back!"

Her voice remained soft, but with a playful command: "Let Sister have a good look."

The Spiritual Pressure increased by a fraction.

Ye Xiaoyao's neck was stiff; struggling internally for no more than three breaths, he still slowly turned his head back.

The situation is stronger than the person; one must be submissive when necessary.

But as soon as he turned his face straight, before his vision could focus, a pink jade foot came rushing right at him!

The tip of the foot was crystal clear, the sole delicate and tender.

He could even see the fine lines on the sole, and smell the faint scent mixed with floral fragrance and body heat.

It was almost poking his lips.

He almost took a bite.

Almost as a reflex, his eyes and hands were quick; he raised his right hand like lightning and accurately grabbed that slender ankle in mid-air.

The touch was warm and smooth, the skin so tender that it felt like a red mark would be left with any force.

"Ah~"

A short, delicate moan escaped from the Saintess's cherry lips.

She clearly didn't expect Ye Xiaoyao to react so quickly, and even less did she expect that the moment her ankle was grabbed, a strange, electric-like tingling would rush from the point of contact throughout her entire body.

The air in the boudoir suddenly stagnated.

Ye Xiaoyao held that jade foot, not knowing whether to let go or not.

The Saintess maintained her one-legged stance, a faint blush flying across her cheeks, but a flash of shame and annoyance crossed her eyes.

The next instant, an even stronger Spiritual Pressure collapsed like a mountain, crashing down.

"Ye... Xiao... yao!"

The Saintess said each word distinctly, her voice turning cold.

"You... have quite some nerve."