Bibi Dong's body stiffened slightly—then relaxed, leaning into his chest.
Her damp hair clung to his neck in cool, silken strands, carrying the warmth of her post-bath scent—lavender and sandalwood mingling with her own delicate sweetness.
Dai Chengfeng lowered his head, resting his chin atop her hair, inhaling deeply.
"Dong'er…"
For the first time in private, he called her by this intimate name—voice rough with wine and long-suppressed emotion.
Bibi Dong didn't correct him. She simply hummed softly, arms circling his waist, fingers interlacing at his back.
Through his training clothes, her fingertips traced the curve of his spine—as if confirming he was truly here, truly hers.
"You're… different today," she murmured, cheek pressed to his chest, hearing his heartbeat quicken.
"Am I?"
Dai Chengfeng chuckled, the vibration rumbling through his throat, sending shivers down her neck. "Maybe it's because I thought about you all night. The more I thought, the more I missed you."
Bibi Dong lifted her head, violet eyes meeting his.
Morning light dappled her lashes, softening her usual icy authority into something honeyed, tender.
"Flatterer," she chided—but didn't pull away. Instead, she rose onto her toes, nose brushing his jaw like a lazy feline seeking affection.
Dai Chengfeng's Adam's apple bobbed. His hands slid up her waist, stopping at her shoulder blades. Through the thin silk, he felt the heat of her skin, its flawless texture.
He dipped his head, forehead to forehead, noses touching, breaths entwining.
"Dong'er, may I kiss you?"
Her lashes fluttered. A faint smile curved her lips. "Since when did you start asking? Weren't you always… direct before?"
Before she finished, Dai Chengfeng had already captured her lips.
The kiss began feather-light—tentative, reverent.
Bibi Dong closed her eyes, lashes grazing his cheek. Her hands climbed his neck, fingers threading into his damp hair.
Slowly, the kiss deepened.
She offered token resistance—then melted, yielding to his plunder. A tiny, breathy whimper escaped her throat.
The sound ignited something primal. Dai Chengfeng's breathing grew ragged; his arms tightened, crushing her against him.
Her robe slipped off one shoulder, revealing a delicate collarbone and a swathe of snow-white skin.
Morning light dusted it like scattered diamonds.
His lips trailed from her mouth down her jawline, pausing at her earlobe for a gentle bite.
Bibi Dong shuddered, gasping his name: "Chengfeng…"
"Hmm?"
His voice was muffled against her ear, warm breath ghosting over her skin.
"Don't like it?"
"…Tickles."
Her voice held a nasal lilt—half-protest, half-plea.
Dai Chengfeng's low laugh was sinfully husky. "Then I'll find another spot."
He claimed her lips again—deeper this time, commanding.
Bibi Dong grew lightheaded, fingers clutching his tunic until her knuckles whitened.
Her robe, already loose, now hung askew—bare shoulder exposed, violet hair spilling like ink across ivory skin—a masterpiece of disarray.
After a long while, they parted slightly.
Bibi Dong panted, cheeks flushed crimson, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
She reached to adjust her robe—but Dai Chengfeng caught her wrist, pressing it to his chest.
"Don't move," he rasped. "Let me look at you longer."
She shot him a glare—but didn't pull away. Instead, she turned her face aside, ears burning scarlet.
"…Shameless."
"Aren't I supposed to be shameless with you?"
He smiled, kissing her bare shoulder—warm, tender, possessive. "My Dong'er… so beautiful."
Her heart fluttered. She said nothing, only looped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his throat.
Dai Chengfeng swept her into his arms.
"Ah—!"
Bibi Dong yelped, instinctively clinging to his neck. "What are you doing?"
"Taking you inside."
He strode past beaded curtains toward the innermost divan. "The light's too bright here. I'd hate for you to get sunburnt."
Bibi Dong snorted. "You just want to do something wicked."
Dai Chengfeng nipped her lip. "Caught me."
He laid her gently on the divan—but didn't press down. Instead, he knelt beside her, palms braced on either side of her body, studying her.
Dawn light filtered through gauze curtains, outlining her softened features.
Gone was the Pope's icy authority. Now she resembled a violet blossom drenched in morning dew—exquisite, fragile.
Dai Chengfeng's chest burned. He kissed her brow, then her nose, then the corner of her mouth—trailing downward as if savoring rare confectionery.
Bibi Dong went boneless beneath him, fingers twisting in his tunic, whispering:
"Chengfeng…"
"Not yet."
His voice dripped honey. He untied her robe's final sash. Silk pooled like water, revealing vast expanses of pale skin. "I have all the time in the world…"
Her breath hitched. She covered her eyes—but he gently pulled her hand away.
"Don't hide."
He kissed each fingertip, lingering. "I want to see you."
Bibi Dong surrendered, pulling him down by the neck.
Their silhouettes merged behind the gauze curtain. Morning light dappled their bodies in shifting patterns.
His lips found her collarbone. Bibi Dong bit her lip, stifling sounds—but soft gasps still escaped.
His palm roamed her waist, scorching, thumb tracing the sensitive dip of her side.
"Chengfeng…" Her voice trembled, edged with tears.
Time stretched infinitely.
The curtain swayed. Light shifted. Distant birdsong faded.
After an age, Bibi Dong suddenly rolled over—pinning Dai Chengfeng beneath her.
Her hair cascaded like a violet waterfall.
Eyes half-lidded, lashes dewy with sweat, lips swollen crimson from kisses.
"My turn."
Her whisper carried undeniable command.
Dai Chengfeng watched her, eyes crinkling with amusement and adoration.
Bibi Dong bent down, teeth grazing his shoulder.
He grunted, hands gripping her waist—but didn't stop her.
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