As the crisp winter air whispered through the sect's ancient pines, carrying the faint scent of frost-kissed leaves, Shen Lianxiu strode forward with unbridled pride, his arms cradling Ling Xiuyuan like a treasure unearthed from the depths of a sacred mountain. The path to the secluded stream wound through the misty groves, where Xiuyuan had long sought solace in his solitary baths, but today, the journey bore the weight of their shared intimacy—a cleansing not just of the body, but of the lingering echoes of last night's passion. Lianxiu's steps were steady, his bare chest exposed to the chill, yet his heart burned with a joy so profound it rivaled the sun's ascent.
"I'm so happy I get to carry you like this," Lianxiu confessed, his voice a melodic murmur laced with honesty, his cheeks blooming with a shy crimson that spread like ink on rice paper. "If one dirty thought I harbored before, it was only this. I admit it this time." A soft chuckle escaped his lips.
Ling Xiuyuan, nestled in those strong arms, felt his own face ignite in a flush of embarrassment, the heat rising like steam from a hidden spring. "How's that dirty?" he muttered, his words barely audible, a feeble attempt to deflect the intimacy that enveloped them. Yet, his heart fluttered erratically, a caged bird yearning for freedom.
"Please stop. Someone will see!" he whispered urgently, his eyes darting like startled sparrows across the surrounding paths. He harbored no wish to wound Lianxiu's spirit, for the budding affection between them was a fragile blossom he cherished deeply, but the world beyond their private realm was not yet ready to witness it—or perhaps, it was he who trembled at the threshold of revelation.
Fortunately, the paths lay empty still, shrouded in morning's gentle haze, but the anticipation gnawed at him nonetheless.
Shen Lianxiu, ever attuned to the subtle shifts in his beloved's demeanor, caught the flicker of unease in Xiuyuan's gaze. Though his own soul yearned to proclaim their love to the heavens, to let the winds carry tales of their union across the peaks, he could not bear to impose discomfort upon the one who held his heart. With a reluctant sigh, he gently lowered Xiuyuan to the ground, his touch lingering like a farewell caress on silk.
Ling Xiuyuan exhaled in quiet relief.
But before he could steady himself, Lianxiu swiftly shed his outer robe, the fabric whispering against the air like falling petals. In a fluid motion, he draped it over Xiuyuan, enveloping him completely, even veiling his face in its warm folds. "Lianxiu?" Xiuyuan's voice emerged muffled, laced with confusion, his world suddenly shrouded in the scent of his lover's essence—musk and sandalwood intertwined.
Without a word, Lianxiu scooped him up once more, his arms secure and unyielding. "Hey! Stop this!" Xiuyuan protested, his shout reduced to a hushed whisper, lest it echo through the groves and summon unwanted attention. Yet, beneath the cover, a spark of reluctant amusement flickered in his chest, mingling with the persistent blush that painted his hidden features.
Lianxiu merely smiled, a proud curve of his lips that radiated like dawn's first light, and proceeded onward, his chest bared to the biting winter winds, a testament to his devotion. As they ventured deeper into the sect's grounds, figures began to emerge—disciples rousing from their chambers, their eyes widening at the sight.
Surprise rippled through them like waves on a tranquil pond; some chuckled softly, exchanging knowing glances, while others stood in silent awe. A cluster of young female cultivators, their robes fluttering like butterfly wings, blushed deeply, their whispers carrying on the breeze: "Wow, his lover must be so lucky. It's winter, yet he uses his robe to conceal their identity, protecting them with such care, and carries them bare-chested through the cold."
Beneath the robe's shelter, Ling Xiuyuan heard every word, his ears burning as if touched by flame. A profound blush suffused his entire being, spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his fingers, an uncontrollable tide of emotion that left him breathless.
Meanwhile, Shen Lianxiu's chest swelled with pride, his heart pounding like thunder in a stormy sky, each beat echoing his exhilaration.
Not far off, Wei Jingyan emerged from his chamber, his disheveled hair tousled by sleep. Spotting the pair, he raised an eyebrow, unsurprised yet intrigued. "Didn't know things would turn to this," he murmured to himself, scratching his head with a wry grin. "He's brave."
Unperturbed by the gazes that trailed them, Lianxiu pressed on until the sect's bustle faded, the path giving way to the serene embrace of nature. At last, they arrived at the stream, its crystal waters murmuring like ancient poetry, bordered by frost-laced boulders and overhanging willows that danced in the breeze.
Gently, Lianxiu set Xiuyuan down, his fingers lingering as he unveiled the robe from his lover's face, revealing eyes wide with lingering nervousness and cheeks still tinged with rose. With equal care, he slipped Xiuyuan's outer robe from his shoulders, the fabric pooling at their feet like discarded worries. Xiuyuan stood there, vulnerable yet unresisting, his blush deepening under Lianxiu's gaze, a silent acquiescence to the intimacy unfolding.
Once more, Lianxiu lifted him, cradling him close. "I can walk," Xiuyuan protested softly, his hands resting tentatively on Lianxiu's broad shoulders, the touch electric despite the chill.
Lianxiu shook his head, his smile warm as sunlight filtering through leaves. "It will hurt, Shixiong. Let me help." With that, he waded into the stream's embrace, the cool waters lapping at their skin like a lover's gentle kiss, carrying away the remnants of their passion.
In the heart of the stream, where the current flowed pure and unyielding, Lianxiu drew Xiuyuan close, his arms wrapping possessively around that bare waist, fingers tracing the smooth contours with a reverence that spoke of eternal vows.
Xiuyuan gasped softly, a tremor of nervousness rippling through him, yet he schooled his features into composure, his body yielding to the hold as if it were the most natural refuge in the world. They lingered thus, the world around them a tapestry of beauty: the stream's melody harmonizing with the distant call of birds, sunlight dappling the water's surface like scattered jewels, and the winter air crisp yet softened by their shared warmth. It was a moment suspended in time, where the boundaries between souls blurred, and the universe seemed to hold its breath in witness to their quiet union.
Lianxiu rested his head upon Xiuyuan's shoulder, his breath a warm caress against the skin, inhaling the faint scent of lotus and desire that clung to his beloved. "I can't believe it's happening in reality, Shixiong," he whispered, his voice laced with awe, as if the words were fragile dreams woven into silk. "Are we really lovers?"
Ling Xiuyuan remained silent, his lips parted yet voiceless, for his heart thundered so fiercely within his chest that any utterance would fracture like porcelain under strain. The rhythm echoed in his ears, a symphony of overwhelming emotion—joy, fear, and an uncharted tenderness that left him adrift in its currents.
And then, pressed so intimately against Lianxiu's bare form, Xiuyuan felt it—a stirring against his back, the undeniable hardening of Lianxiu's desire, rising like a hidden flame kindled anew. His eyes widened in a mix of shock and anticipation, a nervous gulp betraying the flutter in his throat as heat pooled in his own veins.
Lianxiu's breathing quickened, ragged and uneven, each inhale a testament to the storm brewing within him.
Xiuyuan's entire body flushed crimson, from the tips of his ears to the expanse of his chest, a blush so profound it seemed to paint his skin in the hues of a setting sun, revealing the raw nervousness that gripped his soul.
"Shixiong," Shen Lianxiu whispered, the word a seductive plea, laced with the huskiness of unrestrained passion. "I can't take it." With those words, he relinquished one hand from Xiuyuan's waist, trailing it downward in a slow, deliberate path that sent shivers through them both.
His fingers encircled his own arousal, rubbing with a gentle yet fervent rhythm, each stroke a erotic confession of his need—nervous breaths mingling with soft, involuntary moans that echoed the stream's murmur.
The water lapped around them, heightening the sensation, as Lianxiu's body arched subtly, his blush deepening to a feverish scarlet, his eyes half-lidded in a haze of ecstasy and apprehension, utterly seduced by the presence of the one who had captured his essence so completely.