Her lips burned at the mere thought. She instinctively touched them, wondering if he already had. The sensation was so vivid it betrayed logic.
The disguise is still on. Then why...?
She looked up—and froze.
Those eyes.
Those cursed golden eyes. Slit-pupiled, serpentine, filled with mischief and madness and somehow still beautiful enough to ruin generations of maiden cultivators.
Before she could retreat, his hands cupped her face—gentle, almost reverent.
"No. No, no, no—"
Too late.
Her lips puckered in shock—
And he plucked them with his.
It wasn't a kiss.
It was a robbery.
Su Yiran's eyes widened, like someone who just witnessed a Sect Master streaking through the alchemy gardens.
INSANE.
LUNATIC.
But it was too late to resist.
His lips moved against hers—not demanding, but dangerously curious. As if each motion was him studying her like a scroll of forbidden martial arts.
"Hiss.."
