"Good wife, you're the one who pities me." Yang Feilong was busy attending to himself when he suddenly saw 'Han Yun' return to the bedside. He immediately pulled her onto the bed and began to grope her.
His mental state was a bit hazy due to the excessive alcohol consumption. He alone had drunk at least seven or eight bottles. A normal Lingwu realm cultivator would be incapacitated after half a bottle. Yang Feilong's excessive intake was more than he could handle. He was already strong in this regard, and now he was excessively so. Otherwise, Han Yun wouldn't have begged for mercy and left, leaning against the wall to seek help.
Mo Yihan almost cried out in surprise but quickly covered her mouth.
She was probably afraid of a repeat of the previous situation, but if you asked her, she would never admit it.
In fact, Han Yun and Mo Yihan were similar in build. Mo Yihan's figure was actually better, possibly due to her regular yoga practice. In Yang Feilong's words, it was explosively good.
Of course, Mo Yihan's greatest advantage was her magnificent bosom!
Yang Feilong's mental state was not normal at the moment, so he didn't think of this for a while. He didn't examine her closely either, and continued to grope Mo Yihan as she lay beneath him.
Suddenly, Yang Feilong froze and shivered all over.
Because the scale was wrong.
He opened his eyes and saw Mo Yihan covering her mouth, staring at him.
"Why is it you?" Yang Feilong was almost scared to death, his face pale.
"Why can't it be me!" Mo Yihan showed a self-deprecating smile. Seeing Yang Feilong's pale face, she inexplicably felt a pang of discomfort. Was it right or wrong for her to eagerly join in? If they had relations, would Yang Feilong take responsibility? But was it love or lust?
She was lost.
So, she forcefully pushed Yang Feilong away, naked, and searched for her slippers to leave.
Yang Feilong naturally saw Mo Yihan's desperate gaze, a heart-wrenching look. For some reason, his heart ached too, feeling as though he had hurt a woman who had fallen in love with him.
He wasn't narcissistic; he had been in so many relationships and understood women quite well. He had noticed Mo Yihan liked him before. Except for that impulsive moment at the dinner table fueled by the aphrodisiac wine, he had maintained restraint at all other times.
He had too many women, and he worried he couldn't give each of them enough love. Therefore, he had always acted indifferent, even knowing Mo Yihan liked him, he intended to dampen her hopes.
But just now, seeing Mo Yihan's dispirited, almost desperate eyes, his heart was deeply pierced.
He knew that if he let her leave today, the hurt she would suffer might never heal.
He would have completely broken a woman's heart!
Thus, as Mo Yihan put on her slippers and prepared to leave, Yang Feilong embraced her from behind.
The moment she was embraced, a flicker of light appeared in Mo Yihan's eyes. But this light flickered, possibly extinguishing at any moment or burning brighter, depending on Yang Feilong's next actions.
"Why won't you let me go? We, we..." Mo Yihan asked nervously. She feared what Yang Feilong might say, so she preemptively created an excuse for her fragile self-esteem.
Yang Feilong interrupted Mo Yihan's anxiety, holding her and sniffing her hair as he said, "If I leave, I'll lose you forever."
Hearing Yang Feilong's words and feeling his infatuation with her scent, Mo Yihan felt shy, her eyes inexplicably reddening. She softly asked, "Do you like me then?"
At this moment, she was no longer the heroic woman she was before. She looked like a porcelain doll, fragile enough to break at a touch. No woman is truly strong, or perpetually strong. Everyone has their vulnerabilities, and this was Mo Yihan's most vulnerable moment.
She liked Yang Feilong, it was true. Even knowing he had so many women, she still wanted to be with him, to be one of his women. But there was a prerequisite: Yang Feilong had to like her too!
Otherwise, what was the difference between her and a woman from a brothel?
Was it just for the pleasure of physical intimacy? With her beauty and her status, was it hard to find many men who were visually appealing and infatuated with her, just for that? Not at all. She had rejected countless seemingly excellent men!
"I do," Yang Feilong said softly.
His words were not insincere. Mo Yihan's beauty, her personality, her boldness, and her playful remarks deeply attracted him. However, he had to restrain himself, so he had turned a blind eye to all of it. But now, unwilling to see Mo Yihan sad or hurt, his restraint naturally no longer held back.
Hearing Yang Feilong say those two words, the light in Mo Yihan's eyes became incredibly radiant, like stars in the night sky, shining brilliantly!
Upon hearing those words, Mo Yihan felt that her sacrifices and her selfless love were all worth it!
"What do you like about me?" Mo Yihan turned around, her beautiful bright eyes looking at Yang Feilong.
"I like your alluring red lips, I like your high and pretty nose, I like your bright and expressive eyes, I like your fair and smooth cheeks, I like everything about you..." Yang Feilong gazed at Mo Yihan affectionately and said sincerely.
His voice was magnetic, and each word was like a gentle assault, striking the softest part of her heart.
Mo Yihan bit her sensual red lips lightly and murmured, "I like everything about you too, but if you're lying to me today, please lie to me for a lifetime, okay?"
Please lie to me for a lifetime, okay?
Such humble words, yet they showed how deeply she had fallen, how profoundly she had fallen in love with Yang Feilong.
"I'm not lying to you. I will love you, love you for a lifetime!" Yang Feilong sighed inwardly, but his face was sincere.
He sighed because he felt unworthy. Knowing he had so many women, why would she fly into his arms like a moth to a flame?
Another woman he couldn't fail.
This was both a blessing and a responsibility, the responsibility of not failing.
"Feilong, love me!" Mo Yihan looked at Yang Feilong emotionally.
Yang Feilong then kissed her, and Mo Yihan responded passionately. Everything was like dry wood meeting a raging fire.
They left deep imprints on each other.
They both wished they could consume each other, so they were frenzied.
Everything proceeded smoothly, and the most important union was about to happen naturally...