Quick Wear: The paranoid beauty grabs the waist and spoils her

On the night of Chinese Valentine's Day in Qi'an Town, the lights are as bright as day and the crowds of people are bustling.

The noise, laughter, and music merged into a warm ocean, enveloping Nan Xiang and Jiang Ruochen, the "master and disciple" pair with outstanding looks and demeanor.

Nan Xiang was curiously looking at a stall selling exquisite lanterns, and the "Meng Xiwu" on her wrist was emitting a soft luster under the bright lights.

Jiang Ruochen lagged behind her by half a step, but his gaze did not linger on the bustle around him. Instead, it was quietly fixed on the profile of the girl in front of him, which was softened by the light, and the emotion in his eyes was hard to tell.

Suddenly, a group of townspeople dressed in festive attire and with warm smiles on their faces gathered around. Leading them was a beautiful woman in her thirties with a friendly and gentle face. She smiled and said,

"You two, my dear lady, are truly a match made in heaven! Would you be so kind as to take part in our Qi'an Town's unique Qixi Festival sacrificial ceremony?"

Nan Xiang was startled and quickly explained:

"we are not……"

Before she finished speaking, Jiang Ruochen beside her naturally took half a step forward, stood shoulder to shoulder with her, and stretched out his hand very naturally, holding her fingers tightly.

His fingertips were slightly cool, but with unquestionable strength, they instantly penetrated her fingers and locked them tightly.

Nan Xiang's whole body stiffened, and she subconsciously tried to pull her hand back, but it was held even tighter.

She looked up in surprise and met Jiang Ruochen's lowered gaze.

There was a hint of helplessness and doting in the corner of his lips, and he said softly to the beautiful woman Qiao Niang:

"Excuse me, my lady. I was wrong just now and made my wife angry. I'm trying to comfort her now."

His tone was natural and intimate, as if they were really a young couple who had a quarrel. His cold and aloof temperament turned into tenderness shown only to one person.

The townspeople around immediately burst into good-natured laughter, with expressions of "So that's how it is" and "I understand, I understand."

Nan Xiang's mind went blank in an instant.

Master... what is he talking about? Wife? Angry? Coaxing?

She felt her cheeks getting hot uncontrollably and her heartbeat became irregular.

She wanted to retort, wanted to break free, but her master's grip was so tight that the strength coming from his fingertips even carried a barely perceptible tremor, completely different from the false appearance of ease and gentleness on his face.

Is he... serious?

The ambiguity and uneasiness that she realized belatedly surged into her heart like a tide, making her forget to react for a moment. She could only freeze in place, allowing the slightly cold hand to hold her tightly, and the touch from the fingertips was surprisingly clear.

Qiao Niang smiled even more kindly:

"I see! That's even more of a fate! We, the priests, are supposed to choose the most suitable and attractive people to play the role of the son and daughter of god worshipped in Qi'an Town!

They changed into their clothes, performed the sacrificial dance, ate Qiqiao fruit together, drank peach blossom wine together, presented each other with a pair of twining branches, and finally carved each other's names on the Three Life Stone. The ceremony was complete! It symbolized the gods' blessing, a lifelong, unwavering bond!

As she spoke, someone brought in two extremely exquisite sets of clothing.

One is a long robe with wide sleeves and moon-white cloud patterns, embroidered with flowing clouds and cranes in silver thread, which is elegant and graceful; the other is a bright crimson silk skirt, the hem of which is embroidered with blooming lotus flowers and winding vines, which is gorgeous and eye-catching.

"Come, quickly change the clothes for the Son of God and the Goddess..."

Qiao Niang smiled and motioned the maid behind her to come forward.

"No need."

Jiang Ruochen stopped them. He took the two sets of clothes, his tone still gentle, but with a strong attitude that did not allow for questioning.

"I'll just help my wife."

When these words were spoken, not only Nan Xiang, but also the surrounding townspeople were stunned for a moment, and then they burst into even more enthusiastic laughter and cheers, looking at them with eyes full of ambiguity and blessings.

"My dear, how considerate!"

"Okay, okay, then we'll wait outside!"

Qiao Niang smiled and led her people away, and considerately gave them a temporary, elegantly and quietly decorated wing room next door.

It wasn't until the door creaked shut, blocking out the noise outside, that Nan Xiang seemed to suddenly come back to her senses.

She exerted force suddenly, breaking free from Jiang Ruochen's tightly grasped hand. She took a step back as if burned, her cheeks flushed, her eyes filled with panic and helplessness. She forced a smile with composure.

"Master, Master... just now... I'm sorry, they misunderstood..."

Jiang Ruochen looked at her like a frightened deer, and a dark light flashed in his eyes.

He did not retreat, but took a step forward, leaning slightly forward. His handsome face enlarged before her eyes, and he raised his eyebrows and asked:

"Misunderstanding? What's the misunderstanding?"

A strong sense of oppression, accompanied by the cool fragrance of bamboo leaves on his body, enveloped Nan Xiang. Her heart was beating like a drum. She subconsciously took another step back, her back almost touching the door, and her voice trembled:

"I misunderstood that we were...in that kind of relationship..."

"Oh?"

Jiang Ruochen drew out his tone, with emotions surging in his eyes, as if he was smiling.

He suddenly made another move, his movements as fast as lightning, and once again grasped her wrist accurately, with such force that she could not escape. However, he no longer clasped her fingers together, but gently pressed her palm against his heart.

Nan Xiang's whole body trembled. What she could feel from her fingertips was the rapid and powerful heartbeat from beneath his chest, thump, thump, thump... Her fingertips went numb, and her heart began to beat wildly.

"Little cutie,"

He called her a name she had never heard before, a name so intimate that it made her blush. His voice was low and hoarse, but it carried a fatal tenderness and strength, forcing her to raise her eyes and look directly into his deep, abyssal eyes.

“This is not a misunderstanding.”

His eyes were burning, as if to devour her:

"I can't help my feelings for you."

Nan Xiang's pupils suddenly shrank and her brain completely shut down.

"My heart is pleased with you."

Every word he spoke was so clear that it sounded like thunder in her ears.

"I don't know if it was the bloody look you gave me during the admissions exam, or the moments we spent together at Zizhu Peak, or just now... the string of candied haws you handed me.

"Xiaoguai, you made me feel that this fairyland, this mortal world, is all about me. I'm not just a passerby wandering in the world, but I've truly stayed in this world for you."

The straightforward and passionate confession, like the hottest magma, instantly overwhelmed all of Nan Xiang's ability to think.

She stared blankly at her master who was so close to her, seeing the undisguised affection and desire in his eyes, she felt it was difficult to breathe, and the whole world became unreal.

There was no expected response, nor was there even a hint of joy, only complete shock and confusion.

A trace of deep grievance and loss flashed across Jiang Ruochen's eyes, but he quickly calmed down. He gently stroked her trembling wrist with his fingertips, and continued to ask with a hint of temptation:

"Xiaoguai, I can feel that you have feelings for me... right?"

Nan Xiang's heart was in a mess.

Is there? Of course there is.

Otherwise, how could she feel panic at his approach, blush at his touch, and secretly delight in his occasional care? But... this feeling was too unfamiliar, too overwhelming, and too beyond her control.

She was devoted to Taoism and had never thought about love, let alone the fact that the object was her own master!

This goes against her long-held cognition and principles.

"I...I don't know..."

She hurriedly avoided his sight, her voice as thin as a mosquito, with an unprecedented sense of helplessness.

"Master, I... my heart is in turmoil..."

Looking at her like this, Jiang Ruochen sighed in his heart, and ultimately couldn't bear to push her too hard.

He released his hand from her wrist and loosely held her in his arms, a restrained yet protective hug.

"it is good,"

He sighed softly on top of her head, his tone filled with indulgence and a hint of subtle bitterness.

"Then think about it carefully, little darling. I'll only give you three days. After three days, I want your answer."

Feeling the stiffness of the body in his arms, he added, his tone firm and reassuring:

"As for everything else, whether it's the relationship between master and disciple or rumors, you don't need to worry about it. I'll take care of everything, and I won't let anything hurt you in the slightest."

Nan Xiang lay in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat and powerful words, and her chaotic mood strangely calmed down a little.

She nodded slightly:

"Ah."

She really needs time to sort out these sudden emotions and think about the future.

Seeing her nod, Jiang Ruochen finally let go of her slightly, his face returning to that lazy yet slightly aggrieved expression, as if the person who had just made the strong confession was not him:

"Now then... Xiaoguai, could you please accompany me to handle this ridiculous sacrifice? Those people are waiting outside."

He pointed to the two extremely eye-catching sets of "Son of God and Goddess" costumes placed aside.

Nan Xiang: “…”

She looked at the crimson wedding-like dress, and her cheeks, which had just cooled down a little, suddenly became hot again.

This night of Chinese Valentine's Day is destined to be a time of confusion.