As the first rays of dawn pierced the veil of night, painting the chamber in hues of soft gold and amber, Ling Xiuyuan stirred from his slumber. His eyelids fluttered open like fragile petals unfurling under the morning dew, revealing a world still hazy with the remnants of dreams. Yet, as consciousness fully embraced him, a strange warmth encircled his waist—two strong arms, unyielding as ancient vines, wrapped possessively around him. In that instant, his warrior's instincts surged like a tempest, urging him to thrust away the intruder, to strike with the precision of a blade honed by years of cultivation. But before the impulse could take form, a cascade of memories from the previous night flooded his mind, vivid and intoxicating.
The moonlit entanglement, the whispered vows exchanged in the heat of passion, the way Shen Lianxiu's touch had ignited a fire within him that burned away all barriers—those scenes replayed like a scroll of silk unfurling.
Ling Xiuyuan's cheeks bloomed with a crimson flush, spreading like wildfire across his fair skin, as if the very essence of spring's cherry blossoms had taken root in his face.
For the first time in his life, this proud cultivator, who had faced demons and tempests without flinching, felt the delicate sting of shyness, a nervousness that wrapped around his soul like mist veiling a tranquil lake.
He, who had always charted his path with unerring clarity, now found himself adrift, unsure of the next step, as if the heavens themselves had rewritten the stars.
He remained frozen in that embrace, his back pressed against Shen Lianxiu's bare chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of his lover's breathing a soothing lullaby against his skin. The contact was intimate, profound, like the merging of two rivers into one eternal flow, yet it stirred a whirlwind of emotions—tenderness mingled with trepidation, joy shadowed by vulnerability.
But as the sunlight grew bolder, slipping through the lattice window like a curious sprite, peeking into their private sanctuary, a flicker of worry pierced his reverie. What if a fellow disciple arrived unannounced, bearing messages from the sect? Or worse, the elders themselves? To be discovered in such a state would unravel the threads of decorum, weaving awkwardness and scandal in their place.
With the utmost care, as if handling a fragile artifact from a forgotten dynasty, Ling Xiuyuan slowly extricated himself from those encircling arms. Shen Lianxiu slumbered on, his soft snores a gentle rumble, like distant thunder echoing in a peaceful valley. Fortune favored him; he slipped free without rousing the other, his movements graceful as a crane taking flight.
His gaze fell upon his robes, neatly folded upon the nearby table—a simple act, yet one that spoke volumes. Shen Lianxiu must have arranged them after their night of passion, tending to the details with a quiet devotion. A fresh blush tinged Ling Xiuyuan's cheeks, soft as the glow of dawn on lotus leaves, as he realized the depth of that gentleness.
Donning the inner robes swiftly, he turned to regard Shen Lianxiu, still lost in dreams. The sight stirred butterflies within his stomach, fluttering wildly as if a garden of vibrant wings had awakened in his core. Unbidden, a longing bloomed in his chest—the desire to act as true lovers, to bridge the chasm of uncertainty with simple affection. Without fully realizing it, he drew nearer, his heart pounding like war drums in a silent hall. Nervously, his ears burning with a scarlet heat that rivaled the rising sun, he leaned in and pressed a tentative kiss to Shen Lianxiu's lips, soft and fleeting as a butterfly's touch.
In that moment, Shen Lianxiu's eyes snapped open, and with a swift motion, he pulled Ling Xiuyuan into his embrace once more. "Shixiong!" he exclaimed, his own cheeks flushing with a rosy hue, like peaches ripening under summer's gaze.
Ling Xiuyuan startled, his body tensing like a bowstring drawn taut, shock rippling through him as embarrassment flooded his senses. His blush deepened to the color of autumn maples, and he averted his eyes, mortified as if caught in a forbidden rite. "Were you awake all this time?" he shouted, his voice laced with feigned indignation, though shame veiled his gaze like morning fog.
Shen Lianxiu chuckled softly, then leaned in to plant a tender kiss on Ling Xiuyuan's cheek, the gesture warm as sunlight on skin. "Yes," he admitted, his voice a murmur of vulnerability, "but I was too nervous to know what to do, with you lying in my arms like this. I wished only to let the day slip away, the two of us entwined in quiet bliss." A sweet smile graced his lips, his eyes locking onto Ling Xiuyuan's with an intensity that spoke of unspoken depths, blushing yet unwavering.
Ling Xiuyuan feigned anger, his brows furrowing like storm clouds gathering, his expression a mask of stern rebuke. Yet inwardly, his thoughts echoed like a secret melody: Just like me. The similarity tugged at his heartstrings, a harmonious chord in the symphony of their budding affection.
"Are you fine?" Shen Lianxiu inquired, his tone shifting to one of gentle concern, like a breeze soothing ruffled waters.
Ling Xiuyuan met his gaze, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
"Does it hurt?" Shen Lianxiu pressed on, his words casual yet laced with worry, as if tending to a wilting flower. "I made sure to be gentle, but assuming it was your first time... does it hurt?"
The question hung in the air like incense smoke, innocent in intent but igniting a blaze of embarrassment in Ling Xiuyuan. His face burned anew, a furnace of mortification, and he struck Shen Lianxiu lightly on the chest, the blow more playful than punishing. "Stop with this nonsense!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with feigned outrage as he rose, hastily donning his outer robes. Though a subtle ache lingered in his body, a reminder of their shared intimacy, he refused to reveal it, masking the discomfort behind a veil of pride.
Yet, as he took a step forward, his gait betrayed him—a slight hesitation, a wince hidden in the shadows of his movements.
Shen Lianxiu's keen eyes caught it instantly, concern blooming in his chest like a protective shield. Without hesitation, he sprang from the bed, his robes thrown on in a whirlwind of fabric, rushed yet precise. In a fluid motion, he scooped Ling Xiuyuan into his arms, bridal style, cradling him as one might a precious jade artifact.
Ling Xiuyuan's eyes widened in astonishment, his heart leaping like a startled deer.
"Shen Lianxiu!" he scolded, his voice a mix of exasperation and hidden delight, though the warmth of the embrace betrayed the flutter in his soul.