69novels Page 83
Page 83
He rested his chin on her fragrant shoulder, feeling her warm tears dampen the fabric of his neck. His voice was hoarse, yet carried an unprecedentedly calming power. "It's alright, it's alright... I'm back now, aren't I?"
His hand slid slowly down her smooth back.
Her luxurious silk dress was already soaked in several places with tears, sticking stickily to her warm skin, which made the touch under her palm even clearer and more... comfortable.
In his palm, he could clearly feel the graceful curve of her spine, and the soft, firm flesh on both sides that rose and fell with her breath.
"Waaah..." Li Qingluo's crying gradually subsided, turning into a nasal whimper like a kitten.
She writhed her voluptuous body in his arms, as if trying to embed herself into his very bones.
Her face rubbed haphazardly against Wang Meng's neck, her warm, moist breath, mixed with her unique, ripe-smelling body fragrance, relentlessly entering Wang Meng's nostrils.
Wang Meng's comforting hand, at some point, was no longer content to just stay on her back.
His palm slid down the breathtaking curve of the waist and hips, finally resting on the taut, arched area caused by the owner's emotional agitation.
He gently, with a hint of soothing, kneaded that soft and elastic spot.
"Um……"
Li Qingluo's body suddenly stiffened, and a suppressed, distorted groan escaped her throat.
The sound contained three parts the lingering echo of weeping, and seven parts an indescribable mix of shame and pleasure—a feeling of being touched on sensitive spots.
But she quickly grabbed Wang Meng's hand!
That fair, soft hand, still damp with traces of tears, covered Wang Meng's large hand that was playing tricks on her plump buttocks.
Her actions were less a push and more a trembling, powerless attempt to stop.
Her hands were burning hot, incredibly hot.
That was a heat that emanated from the very bones, a mixture of shame and desire burning within it.
But her fingertips were slightly cold from nervousness, with a subtle, almost imperceptible tremor.
This hand held Wang Meng's hand down, transforming his aggressive kneading into a tighter, more agonizing static embrace.
She was essentially using her own hands to press his palm deeper and harder into her soft, intoxicating space.
"Don't……"
A broken groan, almost squeezed out between her teeth, escaped from her lips.
Li Qingluo finally lifted her head from his burning neck. Her face, which was covered in tears but made her all the more charming, had a pair of phoenix eyes that were shimmering with tears, and two completely different emotions were surging within them.
Half of it was an intense, overwhelming desire that almost melted her away; the other half was an equally intense, yet painfully clear-headed, awareness.
She remained limply seated on his lap, and the movement caused their intimately pressed parts to rub together uncontrollably and intimately, raising a fine layer of pink goosebumps all over her body.
“Mighty official…your body…”
She gasped for breath, her voice hoarse and weak, as if all her strength had been drained away, "You...you're so badly injured...no, it won't do..."
She really wanted it.
I'm almost going crazy wanting it.
Every pore of her body was screaming, yearning for this man's more brutal and direct possession to soothe all the fright and grievances she had suffered throughout the day.
But she knew even better that his current situation was like a piece of exquisite porcelain riddled with cracks on the inside. It looked relatively intact on the outside, but inside it was already full of holes and could no longer withstand any more violent turmoil.
Wang Meng didn't speak. He just quietly looked at her face, which was full of "saying one thing and meaning another," felt every tremor in her body, and listened to her rapid breathing that suppressed her desire.
The hand that was being held down did not pull away, nor did it go any further. He merely moved his thumb slightly, using the rough pad of his finger to gently and soothingly stroke the smooth, glossy back of her hand that was pressing against his.
This small gesture is gentler and more... provocative than any words.
Li Qingluo's body trembled violently again at his action.
She bit her lower lip so hard it almost bled, to stop herself from letting out that shameful, yearning moan again.
Wang Meng wasn't an ungrateful person.
The churning heat in his abdomen was, of course, a man's most primal instinct, but he was also acutely aware of just how bad his physical condition was.
As the woman's true energy dissipated, her meridians began to ache again, and her limbs and bones felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead.
Forcibly demanding something will only result in a lose-lose situation.
He sighed, and the hand that was around Li Qingluo's waist began to rhythmically and gently pat her soft and supple back, as if soothing a frightened child. At the same time, he adjusted his sitting posture so that she could lean more comfortably against him.
"Okay, don't be afraid."
His voice, slightly hoarse from the unfinished affair, sounded even more steady and reliable. "It's all in the past."
Listen to me, let me tell you what happened after I entered Taihu Lake.
He knew that only by completely revealing the secret could he truly soothe the complex emotions of fear, jealousy, and unease in the woman's heart.
Li Qingluo softly hummed in his arms, like a kitten that had finally found shelter, pressing her burning cheeks back against his broad chest and listening quietly.
Wang Meng began to narrate slowly.
His story begins with leaping into the icy, bone-chilling lake.
He didn't exaggerate his bravery, but calmly described the lake's unimaginable coldness, and maintained the integrity of the story, though he left some things unsaid.
For example, he slowly pushed Huang Rong out of the cave like an old man pushing a cart... and then used a gag to bring the woman, who had gone mad with desire, back to her senses... and then, with the help of the Source of Life, she successfully walked out of the Langhuan Jade Cave alive...
But Wang Meng recounted the rest of the process slowly and in great detail, without any concealment or embellishment.
He acted as a faithful recorder, presenting Li Qingluo with the bizarre and perilous experience in its entirety.
After he finished speaking, the room fell into a long silence once again.
Only the sound of the wind outside the window, and... the gradually calming heartbeats and breathing of the two people.
Like a thin, warm veil, it enveloped the two people embracing.
After the torrent of emotions recedes, what remains is a subtle, intimate tranquility.
Ultimately, it was Wang Meng who broke the silence.
He leaned back in his chair, still holding Li Qingluo's soft body in his arms, but his gaze was fixed on the distant Taihu Lake through the window, a deep sense of regret in his eyes.
"It's just a pity..."
He sighed, his voice still weak and hoarse: "So many unparalleled martial arts techniques are hidden in the Langhuan Jade Cave... Now that they are submerged at the bottom of the lake, I'm afraid... salvaging them will be extremely difficult."
As he spoke, he subconsciously continued to gently pat Li Qingluo's back, as if comforting her, and also as if comforting himself.
"Those carved on bamboo slips and jade are still relatively easy to find; there's always hope of retrieving them. What's hateful is that... many exquisite internal energy cultivation methods and esoteric arts are written on paper and silk."
"Once soaked in that lake, even if you could find it, the ink stains would probably have completely dissolved, making restoration virtually impossible."
However, the moment he finished speaking, Li Qingluo in his arms suddenly chuckled softly.
It wasn't a sad, bitter smile, nor a helpless, agreeable one, but a smug, proud, and even slightly boastful smile, like a little woman saying, "Silly girl, why are you worried about this?"
Her body stirred slightly in his arms.
The next moment, she stood up from Wang Meng's lap.
She rose slowly and gracefully.
The silk dress, soaked with tears and clinging to her body, outlined a breathtaking, perfect curve from her slender waist to her torso with every movement.
She didn't leave immediately, but instead extended her slender fingers and gently, with a hint of soothing, straightened Wang Meng's slightly disheveled clothes.
Then, she turned around, her bare, snow-white feet stepping onto the soft carpet, and silently walked to the huge rosewood bookshelf on one side of the room.
Her gaze lingered on the dazzling array of books without pausing for a moment before precisely locking onto an inconspicuous thread-bound book tucked away in a corner.
Wang Meng recognized the book; the cover read "The Flower Tastings of Suzhou," a book he had read several times in his spare time, a record of exotic flowers and plants from the Jiangnan region.
Li Qingluo stretched out her delicate hand and took the book down.
Instead of opening the book, she used her pale, nail-painted fingertips to gently stroke a seemingly ordinary spot inside the slightly worn blue cover, employing a specific, rhythmic fingering technique.
"Click!"
A barely audible sound.
The inner cover of that book had a crack in the middle!
Li Qingluo skillfully peeled back the cover, revealing not the pages of the book, but a hollowed-out compartment that perfectly matched the size of the book.
Under Wang Meng's suddenly contracting pupils, Li Qingluo carefully pulled out a well-preserved, neatly folded item from the hidden compartment.
It was a piece of brocade.
A piece of brocade, pale yellow in color and with a fine, smooth texture.
When Li Qingluo slowly unfolded it in her hand, Wang Meng's breath almost stopped.
There was no trace of ink on the brocade. Instead, it was covered with thousands of tiny characters embroidered with a black silk thread as fine as a hair.
The handwriting was delicate and neat, each stroke full of spirit and charm, as if it were not written by an ordinary person.
The first line features four ancient characters embroidered in slightly larger font: "Great Vajra Palm".
It was actually a palm technique among the 72 Shaolin Arts, known for its extreme strength and power!
Wang Meng's heart almost stopped beating at that moment.
He wasn't shocked by the palm technique itself, but rather by Li Qingluo's unfathomable cunning and foresight!
Seeing Wang Meng's dumbfounded expression, Li Qingluo felt an unparalleled sense of pride and satisfaction.
On her tear-streaked face, a captivating and alluring smile bloomed.
She gently and carefully folded the brocade back into place, put it back in the hidden compartment of the book, and then put the book "Gusu Flower Customs" back on the bookshelf, as if everything that had just happened was just a harmless little magic trick.
After doing all this, she gracefully walked back to Wang Meng's side. Instead of sitting down directly, she leaned down and gently, like a feather, pressed her hot red lips against the corner of his mouth.
Then, like a contented cat, she slid back into his arms, found the most comfortable position, and leaned softly against his chest.
This time, she was bolder and more intimate than before. She extended a slender, white finger, the bright red nail polish on its tip like a drop of blood about to congeal, and slowly, circled it across his chest.
The touch of her fingertips, even through a thin layer of clothing, carried an astonishing heat, as if to brand a unique mark on his skin.
"My good husband..."
She spoke languidly, her voice sweet to the point of being cloying, with a hint of coquettish reproach and undisguised pride: "Your wife is a smart woman, how could I be so foolish as to put all my eggs in one basket?"
Her fingers continued to draw circles on his chest, the alluring tickle spreading along Wang Meng's skin all the way to his lower abdomen, causing his body, which had just calmed down, to rise uncontrollably again with an indescribable heat.