"Zhuqing," Dai Chengfeng murmured softly, "I'll ask once more—are you certain?"
Zhu Zhuqing didn't answer with words. Instead, she raised her hand, fingertips tracing lightly along his cheek. The simple touch sent her heart racing—but she didn't pull away.
"The moment I put on this necklace… I was certain."
Her voice was quiet—yet unwavering.
Dai Chengfeng said nothing more. He lowered his head and kissed her.
This kiss was unlike any before—deeper, slower, filled with reverence and hunger.
Zhu Zhuqing closed her eyes, arms circling his neck, surrendering herself to him completely.
His lips trailed down her jawline, then to the hollow of her throat, pausing beside the black cat pendant. His warm breath ghosted over her skin, drawing a faint shiver from her.
She felt his hand settle on her waist, heat radiating through the thin cotton cloth.
"Chengfeng…"
She whispered his name unconsciously, her voice laced with a dependence she hadn't even realized she carried.
Dai Chengfeng stilled, lifting his head to meet her gaze.
In the candlelight, her eyes were deeper than usual—like a night sky brimming with stars.
He reached up, gently brushing damp strands from her forehead, his fingertips lingering on her cheek.
"I'm here," he whispered—then kissed her again, moving from collarbone to shoulder…
His hand slid down her arm until their fingers intertwined. Gently, he guided her back onto the soft silk quilt.
"Don't be nervous," he murmured against her ear, warm breath teasing her lobe. "I'll be gentle."
Zhu Zhuqing nodded, trying to speak—but her throat tightened, words failing her.
Instead, she lifted her hand and traced slow circles on his back.
Dai Chengfeng's lips returned to hers—this time deeper, more intoxicating.
She felt his fingers find the sash at her waist. A gentle tug—and the fabric loosened.
Cool air kissed her skin, making her tremble—but she was instantly enveloped in his warmth.
...
When it was over, deep night had fallen.
On the bed, Zhu Zhuqing lay nestled in Dai Chengfeng's arms, her long hair spilling across the pillow and his forearm.
A faint flush colored her cheeks; fine beads of sweat glistened on her brow and neck, catching the dim light.
Dai Chengfeng watched her, fingers combing gently through her damp hair—his eyes filled with tenderness and quiet satisfaction.
He drew the quilt over her carefully, then pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Did it hurt?"
Zhu Zhuqing shook her head, looking up at him. The dewy shimmer in her eyes hadn't faded—but now it carried a softness he'd never seen before.
Dai Chengfeng pulled her closer, settling her head on his arm while his other hand stroked her back.
"Rest. I'm right here."
Zhu Zhuqing nodded, closing her eyes as she focused inward—sensing the strange, thrilling changes within.
"Chengfeng… the Asura God Force… it's definitely stronger."
"How much?"
She sat up, the quilt slipping to her waist. She paid it no mind, wholly absorbed in the transformation inside her.
Candlelight bathed her bare back; sweat trickled down her spine, vanishing into the shadowed curve of her waist…
Raising her palm, she summoned a thread of dark red energy. It no longer flickered weakly—it now pulsed with a restrained, dangerous luster.
"At least thirty percent stronger," she whispered, eyes wide with disbelief. "And purer… more… obedient to my will."
Dai Chengfeng sat up too, studying the glow in her palm.
He noticed something new—fine golden threads woven into the crimson light, a change that hadn't been there before.
"This method truly works," he said, relief and pride coloring his voice.
Zhu Zhuqing dismissed the energy and turned to face him.
Her cheeks were still flushed; damp strands clung to her face and neck, adding to her allure.
She nestled against his chest, fingers idly tracing circles on his skin—a gesture new to her, yet utterly natural in this moment.
"Chengfeng," she said suddenly, "don't you ever feel like the world has been too harsh to us?"
Dai Chengfeng looked down, waiting.
"In Xing Luo, we were taught from childhood to compete, to grow stronger, to survive by any means necessary," she said softly, each word clear. "But only with you… can I just be Zhu Zhuqing."
"I can be vulnerable. I can be uncertain. I don't have to be strong all the time."
Her words struck deep in his chest. He tightened his embrace.
"Zhuqing, with me, you'll always be just yourself."
"To me, you're first and foremost Zhu Zhuqing—the one I chose, the one I want to protect and walk beside for the rest of my life."
Tears welled in her eyes—not from desire, but from something far deeper.
She buried her face in his chest, voice muffled: "I feel the same."
"No matter your title or duty… with me, you're simply Dai Chengfeng."
They held each other in silence for a long while.
Then Zhu Zhuqing stirred, lifting her head. "I want to test this power now."
Dai Chengfeng arched a brow. "Now?"
"Yes." She nodded, eyes alight with eagerness. "I can feel it—the Asura God Force moves differently inside me."
"I want to see how this change affects its actual use."
He understood that urge. For someone who pursued strength, every breakthrough demanded immediate testing.
He released her. "Alright. But don't push yourself. Your body…"
"I'm fine," she cut in, cheeks flushing again. "Just a little… sore. But it won't affect me."
She threw off the quilt and stepped onto the floor, bare feet meeting cool wood.
Moonlight draped her figure in silver, outlining every elegant curve. Sweat glistened like scattered diamonds across her skin.
The black cat pendant swayed with her movement, its deep violet eyes seeming alive in the moonlight.
Zhu Zhuqing walked to the center of the room, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
Dark red light began to emanate from her body—thin at first, then thickening until it nearly enveloped her entirely.
But unlike before, this aura was controlled—no longer wild, but humming with quiet, disciplined power.
Dai Chengfeng leaned against the headboard, watching intently.
He felt the air in the room grow heavier, pressure building—the signature weight of the Asura God Force spreading.
Yet this time, the oppressive force carried less savagery… and far more mastery.
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