The mad princess forces love upon him, and the aloof imperial advisor trembles every night.

She laughed until tears streamed down her face, each hot tear landing on Si Chen's chest, soaking his bright red wedding robes and leaving a small, darker wet stain.

"Si Chen, oh Si Chen..." She laughed so hard she could barely breathe, yet her fingertips gently caressed his cheek.

"Your lying is... really clumsy."

She leaned down, getting very close.

She could see the faint blush on the tips of his ears, which stood out even more against his silver hair.

That red color betrayed him.

"If you truly feel nothing, why don't you dare open your eyes and look at me?"

"If you truly believe I'm no different, why did you leap to shield me from that poisoned arrow at the wedding ceremony?"

"If your heart is truly as still as water..." Her fingertips gently pressed against the side of his neck, feeling his rapidly pounding pulse.

"Why is it beating so fast... so fast it's like it's trying to break free?"

"Your ruthless ways..." Her lips almost touched his earlobe, uttering the most cruel temptation in a breathy voice.

"Is it cracking inch by inch?"

"Does every glance at me, every sound I make, every touch I give... deepen the crack?"

Si Chen's breath hitched.

The sharp, agonizing pain in his chest returned, as if countless hands were tearing at his soul from within.

A metallic sweetness surged in his throat, almost uncontrollable, and a warm current welled up to his lips, but he swallowed it back forcefully with his inner strength.

The rusty taste filled my mouth.

He still didn't open his eyes, but his long, thick eyelashes trembled like butterfly wings in the wind.

"Stubborn to the end." He uttered four words, his voice hoarse and each word carrying a heavy, bloody stench.

"Yes, I'm just stubborn."

Chu Qingyue straightened up, her face still wet with tears, but her eyes had rekindled that obsessive flame.

"In my life, Chu Qingyue, whatever I desire, I will obtain."

"If I can't have it, I'd rather destroy it than let it go!"

She no longer hesitated.

She grabbed the front of his wedding dress with both hands and pulled hard—

"Sizzle—!"

The sound of tearing silk was crisp and piercing, like the prelude to the start of some kind of ceremony.

The magnificent and elaborate red wedding dress was ripped apart, revealing a pure white inner garment woven from ice silkworm silk underneath.

The ties of her inner garment had long since come undone, and now, with her movements, they slipped off her shoulders, revealing large expanses of her jade-like skin.

Si Chen trembled violently and suddenly opened his eyes!

In those eyes that were always as indifferent as a cold pool, a monstrous wave was now surging.

Anger, humiliation, disbelief, and a deep-seated unease and panic mingled together, almost breaking through the mental defenses built up over the past four hundred years.

"Chu Qingyue! You—" he roared, trying to struggle, but the incantations on the golden chain coiled and tightened like living snakes.

All resistance was futile.

He could only watch helplessly as her hands, stained with bright red nail polish, touched his bare chest with undeniable force.

Her fingertips were cold and even trembling slightly—this subtle trembling betrayed that she was not as calm as she appeared.

But the coolness that fell on his warm skin felt like it ignited clusters of flames.

Wherever it passed, it stirred up subtle, uncontrollable tremors.

The chill was so clear, so real, like a silent slap in the face, striking his earlier declaration that he had "felt nothing."

"Look..." Chu Qingyue stared fascinated at the tiny bumps that appeared on his skin from her touch, at the taut veins in his neck, and at the rapid beating of his heart.

She looked into the shattering ice field in his eyes, her smile both alluring and mad:

"Your body is much more honest than your mouth."

She no longer gave him any chance to speak.

She lowered her head and kissed the dark red wound on his chest that she had just bitten, which had now congealed.

The tip of my tongue gently licked over it, leaving a warm, moist sensation and an irresistible force.

Si Chen suddenly tilted his head back, his neck forming a beautiful yet fragile arc, his Adam's apple bobbing violently, and a suppressed, broken groan escaped from his clenched teeth.

It was no longer just simple pain.

It was a strange, surging torrent that almost completely overwhelmed his remaining reason, rushing savagely into his limbs and bones along the wound she had kissed, breaching the dam he had held for four hundred years.

The ruthless Dao Heart was frantically warning him, his heart clenching with excruciating pain—yet deep within his body betrayed him, igniting a primal, scorching flame that fiercely battled the bone-chilling cold.

Torn between extremes of pain and despair, yet... unable to stop.

He felt himself splitting apart, half holding on, half sinking into despair;

Half of them are calling for a halt, while the other half are yearning for more.

"Can you feel it, A-Chen?" Chu Qingyue raised her head, her lips stained with his blood, a breathtakingly vibrant color against her pale face.

"That's what you call... the difference."

"To you, I am different from a blanket, and from anyone or anything in this world..."

While she tore at his last line of defense with her gaze, she reached out and unhesitatingly tore open her equally elaborate wedding dress.

The fiery red brocade, like waves of blood receding, piled up in layers at his feet.

She casually removed the phoenix crown and threw it on the ground, where the inlaid pearls and gems rolled off, making a soft tinkling sound.

Three thousand strands of black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, draped over snow-white shoulders, with a few strands clinging to sweaty cheeks—a breathtaking beauty, and a wildly mad expression.

At this moment, she is simply a woman who has shed all her finery and pretense, stubbornly determined to use the most primal way to leave her mark on the person she loves.

She covered him again, their skin touching, without any barrier.

The warmth of his body and the coolness of her skin created a stark, even cruel, contrast.

The sensation was so clear, so real, so real that all of Si Chen's pretense became laughable self-deception.

Si Chen's pupils suddenly contracted to their maximum size.

All attempts to maintain indifference, restraint, and rationality crumbled at this moment.

He could clearly feel every curve and every inch of her body—the soft yet resilient touch.

That complex scent, a blend of blood, alcohol, and her unique, cool fragrance, relentlessly invaded all his senses.

So it turns out, I did have feelings.

All those feelings existed only for her.

Four hundred years of silence, it turns out, were for waiting for this moment of awakening;

The four hundred years of coldness were meant to contrast with the scorching heat of this moment.

But at that very moment—

Suddenly, a muffled rumble of thunder came from outside the window.

That was no ordinary thunder; it was a sign of the wrath of Heaven.

Si Chen's pupils dilated sharply.

He could see it—Chu Qingyue couldn't—it wasn't ordinary lightning; it was the Purple Lightning of the Nine Heavens, specifically designed to punish cultivators who had stirred their mortal desires and broken their Dao foundation!

The lightning had already locked onto this room, and onto him, the ruthless Daoist Lord, who was lying on the wedding bed of a mortal princess, his mind in turmoil!