Fatal Desire

Chapter 106 You are mine
What else could I steal? Of course, I'd steal her heart.

Moreover, he wasn't guilty at all for stealing.

"Stealing someone's life."

Song Xi buried her face in Zhao Yansen's neck, her nose brushing against his warm skin: "You smell so good..."

Her restless hand had just slipped inside her robe when it was grabbed. Zhao Yansen's deep voice carried a warning: "Is this your excuse for sneaking up on me in the middle of the night?"

Song Xi originally wanted to take advantage of the moment to touch him as much as she wanted, but he was stingy and wouldn't let her touch him at all.

She changed the subject: "What do you wear to bed?"

"To prevent you from stealing the blanket in the middle of the night." He tightened his arms, holding her restless body close to his chest.

Okay, that's a valid reason; she does indeed try to steal the blanket.

Song Xi snorted defiantly, but obediently pressed herself even closer. Through the thin fabric, she could clearly feel the rise and fall of his chest:

"You guys keep forcing me to take medicine. What if I really become a walking pharmacy one day..."

She tilted her head back, her eyes shining brightly in the darkness: "I'll put my brother in first."

"Am I the antidote?" Zhao Yansen chuckled, the vibrations in his chest reaching Song Xi's ears.

"not sure."

The medicine jar doesn't necessarily contain the antidote.

Sometimes it is a poison that penetrates the intestines.

Zhao Yansen's face filled Song Xi's entire field of vision, as if her eyes could no longer hold anyone else.

Zhao Yansen is a very cunning person.

He secretly spoiled her rotten, making her unable to look at any other man in her life but him.

"My brother is mine." She suddenly buried her face in his clothes, her voice muffled by his heartbeat.

At least for now.

A soft chuckle came from above her head. Zhao Yansen ruffled her hair and said, "So domineering?"

"I don't care, you're mine." Song Xi moved her legs restlessly, rubbing against his long legs, and the two of them rubbed against each other, creating an indescribable heat.

Zhao Yansen immediately grabbed her waist, pulling her closer into his arms, and commanded in a deep voice, "Stop being so coquettish, go to sleep."

Song Xi closed her eyes in his arms, and after three minutes, she opened them again and asked, "Was that doctor from the Xu family of medicine today?"

"Hmm," Zhao Yansen uttered a single syllable in a low, slightly hoarse voice.

Having received her answer, Song Xi finally closed her eyes, inhaling the pleasant, cool fragrance emanating from the man, her thoughts instantly enveloped by drowsiness.

The next day, Song Xi woke up and had breakfast with Zhao Yansen. After curling up on the sofa and petting the Samoyed for a while, she left Yanshan Villa under the man's gaze.

My aunt had mentioned a while ago that she should accompany Madam Zhao to the temple to offer incense today.

Miaozhe Temple is located on a mountainside more than 30 kilometers away from the city. In earlier years, it was a proper royal temple.

The temple is bustling with worshippers, and the majestic stone lions in front of the temple gate are full of spirit. The wild grass in the cracks of the bluestone steps has barely grown before it has been trampled flat by the worshippers.

Every year, Madam Zhao would bring her female relatives to the temple to burn incense. However, during these few days, the mountain road to Miaozhe Temple will be strictly closed, and no outside visitors will be received.

Song Xi followed behind her aunt and looked at the dignified and elegant Old Madam Zhao in front of her.

Dressed in a plain-colored Xiangyun gauze dress with vermilion trim, she still stood tall and straight despite being eighty years old, exuding the demeanor of a matriarch of a large family in every gesture.

The abbot's chief disciple, dressed in a gray-blue monk's robe, had been waiting for a long time, and he bowed with prayer beads in his hands.

“Benefactor, the master is meditating in the main hall. Please follow me.”

Song Xi looked around, his gaze lingering for five seconds on a 600-year-old ginkgo tree in front of the hall.

It hasn't been chopped up yet.

"Stop dawdling." A tired voice came from beside me.

Song Xi averted her gaze, looked in the direction of the sound, and smiled faintly.

Accompanying Madam Zhao to offer incense were her aunt and niece, her second daughter Zhao Jingchu, her third son's wife Bai Huanqing, and her granddaughter Zhao Shutang.

The one who just spoke was Zhao Shutang. Meeting Song Xi's provocative gaze, Zhao Shutang frowned, turned around, and followed her mother's steps.

Song Xi followed Song Yunyu toward the main hall.

Upon arriving at the main hall, after bowing with palms together, the attendant handed a huanghuali wood box to the abbot's disciple. Inside was a fragment of a Song Dynasty woodblock-printed edition of the Diamond Sutra.

Amidst the resounding chanting of scriptures, several people followed Madam Zhao in paying their respects and burning incense, but without kneeling.

Song Xi raised three incense sticks to eyebrow level, remained silent for three breaths, and then inserted them into the incense burner.

The incense is a specially made agarwood, mixed with ambergris, and the smoke is straight as a thread that does not dissipate when exposed to the wind.

Not long after, Aunt Zhao followed Madam Zhao to the side hall to listen to the abbot preach.

Buddhist practice emphasizes the three disciplines of morality, concentration, and wisdom. The conflict between greed, anger, and ignorance and morality, concentration, and wisdom leads to the key to liberation being the breaking of attachment to self.

Song Xi wasn't interested.

After saying goodbye to her aunt, she stepped out of the palace.

It was springtime, and the weather was still chilly. In some hidden corners, fallen leaves, waiting to sprout new buds, lay scattered. A gentle breeze blew, and the fallen leaves rustled softly as they collided.

The lingering sound of the 180 bells echoed through the temple, causing the ancient trees to tremble slightly. Buddhist prayer flags fluttered in the wind from the eaves, and in the courtyard in front of the temple, covered with fallen leaves, a gray-robed monk was sweeping with a bamboo broom.

Song Xi was facing the clock tower. Looking out, he saw buildings made of brick and red wood with green glazed tile roofs and single-eaved sloping gables, as if looking down on all living beings.

She stopped a monk and politely asked, "Excuse me, where is the Venerable Abbot Miaozhen?"

Today's visitors were all distinguished guests, so the monk didn't ask as many questions as usual and led her directly there.

"Please come with me."

The stone steps wind upwards, and behind the temple, hidden in the mountains, is a small, square courtyard with gray bricks, nestled among the verdant cypress trees.

The courtyard gate was tightly closed, and the bronze rings and animal heads had long lost their luster, leaving only mottled rust. Looking up, a gilded plaque hung above the gate. The vermilion paint had peeled off, and amidst the traces of wind and rain erosion, the four large seal characters "Miaozhen Zen Temple" could still be discerned.

"The abbot is inside, please come in, benefactor," the monk gestured to Song Xi.

"Thank you."

After thanking him, Song Xi pushed open the door and went inside.

The meditation room was simply furnished, with mahogany beams and pillars, gray brick walls, a hard couch, a low table, and two bright yellow cushions. A clay teapot on the table was boiling slightly, emitting a fragrant aroma.

The old abbot sat cross-legged on a prayer mat, his grey robe simple and clean, his back straight as a pine tree. Hearing the door open, he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze kind and gentle.

"Benefactor, it has been four years since we last met. I hope you have been well."

Song Xi was taken aback: "You still remember me?"

The old abbot nodded slightly, gesturing for her to sit down: "When you left back then, I knew you would come back."

The tea had been poured, and the old abbot handed over a cup.

Song Xi sat on the futon, reached out and took it, then gently smelled it... It was even more bitter than the medicinal food she had been drinking.

Her expression remained unchanged as she placed the teacup on the low table and said calmly, "Four years ago, you said that only by helping others can one help oneself."

"But only now do I realize," the old abbot said slowly, "that it is easy to help others, but difficult to help oneself."

Song Xi suddenly looked up at him.

The old monk's brows were serene, and his expression was peaceful: "I have you walk the road and observe the mountains to teach you to see the vastness of the world and realize your own insignificance; I have you calm your mind and understand people to teach you to distinguish between good and evil, warmth and coldness, and to understand right and wrong in your heart. Every mountain and river you encounter, every cause and effect, is a form of spiritual practice."

Song Xi replied, "No matter how much you know, will you still not live a satisfactory life?"

Some friends haven't joined the group, so I'm posting this here.

Mini-theatre performance: "Princess Sisi's 100 Whys"

Chapter 01
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“Brother, why do you have this and I don’t?” Song Xi suddenly touched his Adam’s apple with her fingertip.

Zhao Yansen's process of closing out an important position suddenly stopped, his finger hovering over the Enter key.

“This is the thyroid cartilage.” He tilted his head back and gripped her slender wrist with his large hand. “It becomes more prominent in boys during puberty.”

“Oh,” she leaned closer to examine it, her breath brushing against his tense neck, “Then why do you swallow when I touch it?”

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(End of this chapter)