I Am Yours

When these four words were spoken, Lin Qingyan's voice trembled slightly.

Because these were words she had wanted to say for a long time.

She wanted to tell Emperor Luo, she wanted to tell Shangguan Yunying, she wanted to tell Gu Xiaoli, she wanted to tell everyone in the world.

Gu Chengyin was hers. Not a wild horse that needed to be tethered, not something that needed to be watched.

He was her Chengcheng.

But Lin Qingyan did not say it to Emperor Luo.

Because when Emperor Luo said that, his tone was too casual.

So casual that if she had argued, it would have seemed like making a mountain out of a molehill.

So Lin Qingyan could only bear it, could only press that suffocating frustration deep into her chest.

She pressed it all the way to the top of this tower, pressed it until this moment when she saw Gu Chengyin.

Gu Chengyin turned her around, making her face him.

Lin Qingyan's cheeks were slightly flushed. Not from shyness—from anger.

Her brows were furrowed, her lips pressed together, the corners of her eyes slightly drooping.

A thin layer of mist glazed those beautiful eyes, but stubbornly refused to fall.

Gu Chengyin knew that Emperor Luo had said more than that to Lin Qingyan.

Otherwise, Lin Qingyan wouldn't have gotten this angry and run off alone to the top of the Still Heart Tower to let the wind cool her down.

He lowered his head, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Little Aunt."

"Mmm."

"You're right. I am yours."

Lin Qingyan’s eyelashes fluttered.

"Whatever His Majesty says is his business."

"However you choose to hear it is yours."

"But I am yours."

Lin Qingyan’s eyes suddenly turned red.

That thin layer of mist finally gathered into a droplet, hovered at the corner of her eye, then traced down her cheek.

Just one tear, a fine line from the corner of her eye to her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth, like an ink stroke washed by rain.

Lin Qingyan raised her hand and gripped Gu Chengyin's collar.

"You mean it?"

Her voice was a little hoarse, carrying a soft, nasal quality after crying.

"I mean it."

"Then say it again."

"I am yours."

The corners of Lin Qingyan's mouth finally lifted.

She rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his of her own accord.

Gu Chengyin's palm slid from her waist to her back, drawing her closer to him.

His lips parted slightly, catching her lower lip, gently nibbling and caressing.

Lin Qingyan's fingers loosened from his collar, sliding to the nape of his neck, her fingertips threading into his hair and tightening gently.

The response shifted from tender to passionate, from passive to active, from playful coaxing to raw desire.

Her tiptoes left the ground entirely.

Because Gu Chengyin lifted her up, pressing her back against a vermilion pillar.

Wind rushed in through the window, billowing the gauze curtains noisily.

Those curtains swirled, tangled, and wove around them like a giant net, trapping the two at its center.

But no one wanted to escape.

Below the tower, on the Heavenly Master Manor’s training ground, several young cultivators were practicing their sword forms.

"Did you guys hear something?"

A female disciple with a ponytail suddenly stopped, lifting her head to glance toward the Still Heart Tower.

"What sound?"

"It sounded like... something was making noise? Coming from the top of the tower?"

Another disciple also stopped, cupping a hand to her ear.

The wind was strong, rustling all the trees across the Heavenly Master Manor.

"It's probably Lady Jingzhe cultivating."

The disciple withdrew her gaze and said casually:

"Lady Jingzhe is already at the mid-Golden Core stage. Unusual phenomena during cultivation are perfectly normal."

"Yeah, that's true."

The ponytailed female disciple nodded and raised her sword again:

"Lady Jingzhe is truly amazing. To reach the mid-Golden Core stage at such a young age, and her combat power is unmatched."

"In the entire history of Heavenly Master Manor over thousands of years, she's only the third, right?"

"The second."

An older disciple beside her corrected: "The first was our founding ancestor; the second is Lady Jingzhe."

"Wow..."

Several disciples let out sighs of admiration simultaneously, gazing up at that towering spire, their eyes full of reverence and worship.

In their minds, the Fairy Jingzhe within the Still Heart Tower was the pride of Heavenly Master Manor, a legend of the Great Luo Dynasty, a height they could never hope to reach in their entire lives.

They imagined that right now, she must be cultivating some profound technique at the top of the tower, or contemplating some mysterious dao.

But they had no idea—

The Fairy Jingzhe, the most unattainable and venerable figure in their hearts, was at that very moment being pinned against a pillar by a man at the Great Perfection of the Qi-Refining stage.

Her moon-white robes were a wrinkled mess, her collar wide open.

The skin below her collarbone flickered in and out of view through the gaps in the gauze, scattered with a few faint red marks.

Lin Qingyan's fingers twisted into Gu Chengyin's collar, her lips kissed slightly swollen, glistening with a moist sheen.

Her breath was as chaotic as a flag torn by the wind, and in her eyes was only the dazed indulgence of someone utterly conquered.

"Chengcheng..."

Lin Qingyan's voice came in fragments, carrying a soft, pleading tone:

"The wind... the wind is too strong... the curtains... someone might see..."

"They won't."

Gu Chengyin's voice came from the side of her neck, low and husky:

"Doesn't the Still Heart Tower have a spirit-force barrier?"

Even though he was right, Lin Qingyan still felt a wave of shame.

This shame wasn't forced. It wasn't violating.

It was something more subtle, something that made her go weak all over.

Lin Qingyan knew that people were watching her down below.

Not her—they were watching the embodiment of Heavenly Master Manor's greatest combat power.

Their eyes were full of reverence and worship.

And yet here she was, being teased by Gu Chengyin to the point where she could barely speak a complete sentence.

The contrast made Lin Qingyan's sanity teeter on the edge of collapse.

At Heavenly Master Manor, she was the invincible Golden Core Fairy Jingzhe.

But in Gu Chengyin's hands, she was nothing more than a woman who could only beg.

Gu Chengyin's fingers slid from her waist, unhurriedly tracing the curve of her thigh downward.

Lin Qingyan's back pressed tightly against the pillar. The coldness of the pillar and the heat of her skin created a stark contrast.

It was like ice and fire waging war along her spine, and every battle ended with the fire melting the ice.

"Gu Chengyin..."

Lin Qingyan used his full name, her voice hoarser than before, carrying a note of near-collapse:

"This is Heavenly Master Manor... someone might see us on the tower top..."

"Didn't you say—"

Gu Chengyin's lips pressed against her earlobe, whispering softly:

"That I am yours?"

Lin Qingyan's breath shattered into pieces.

"If that's the case,"

Gu Chengyin's fingers tightened at her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"What's the problem here?"

What's the problem?

There were a thousand problems.

But Lin Qingyan could no longer form a single word of protest.

Because Gu Chengyin was right—he was hers.

And she, the moment he said that, couldn't remember anything else.

Not Fairy Jingzhe. Not Heavenly Master Manor. Not the top of the tower.

None of it mattered.

What mattered was the words he whispered in her ear. What mattered was the force with which he held her.

What mattered was that every touch of his told her the same thing.

You are mine.

I am yours.