In the soft sunlight, Lu Jingming slowly opened his eyes.
Beside him, Xu Jiujiu slept on, her graceful form laid bare.
Though not explosively voluptuous, she had alluring curves and a unique charm.
Her sleep posture was a bit messy, hugging the quilt at random; the weight of justice and her fair, full thighs were uncovered—none of the princess's usual elegance.
Sunbeams slipped through the curtain seams, forming irregular shafts.
Dust motes danced in the light like playful sprites.
The light fell upon the bed, scattering across the princess's neck and collarbone, marked with red, diffusing a gentle glow like a gauzy veil—making her even more radiant.
Perhaps his movement stirred her; she drowsily sat up.
The quilt slipped down and her absolute justice was suddenly on full display.
Her lovely face flushed like a rain-fresh peach blossom, golden lashes quivering like startled wings, a hazy look in her eyes.
Her mind lagged, sitting dazed for a while before she came back to herself.
As consciousness returned, the strange ache in her body sharpened; memories of last night surged like a tide.
She recalled how she'd cast aside all reserve, been unusually proactive, even donning shame-inducing outfits—all to please the man she loved.
"Xiao Ming is really amazing!"
Thinking back in detail, she stretched with a contented sigh, her figure drawn in perfect lines.
She had long since accepted him, and though she felt shy, she was quite open to intimate matters.
Born royal, she had heard of nobles' debauched lives.
Compared to those, what she and Lu Jingming had was tame.
More than fancy techniques, she longed for something else.
She subconsciously touched her lower belly, a look of hope flickering as she recalled the last moment of last night.
"If only…"
She murmured.
The Star-Crown Sect's dwindling numbers forced this hope—the royal line was precarious: only one emperor and two princesses.
Even if the child didn't inherit the Star-Crown martial soul, that was fine—Lu Jingming's Black Abyss White Flower was far stronger.
And bloodline persists; the Star-Crown soul would linger in the blood, waiting for a descendant to awaken it.
As long as the blood continued, the Star-Crown Sect wouldn't perish.
"Sister Jiujiu, if you want a child, I have a way."
He found her expression amusing but understood the Sect's plight.
Who else could truly grasp the helplessness of a royal house reduced to so few?
"Really, Xiao Ming? You truly have a way?"
Joy lit her eyes as she looked at him, eager.
She sincerely wanted a child—not just to continue the line but as the fruit of their love.
"Did you forget my martial soul? I can manipulate at the cellular level—and meddle with genes."
He explained patiently.
Before, he couldn't; now, with his growth, it wasn't a problem.
He simply hadn't wanted children yet—he wasn't even twenty, not ready to be a father.
But seeing her hopeful now, he softened.
His senses told him she hadn't conceived last night.
On Douluo, the Sun-Moon Empire had even developed seed-extraction, enabling conception without traditional intercourse.
Even without his soul's aid, he could ask Herta for help—though he'd likely be mocked.
He preferred to handle it himself.
"Good—hurry, let's go again!"
Hearing he had a way, she lit up, ignoring the discomfort and eager to resume battle.
"Rest, Sister Jiujiu. We have time; no need to rush."
He pressed her gently back, amused and tender.
She'd gotten overexcited; once calmer, she agreed there was no hurry.
After soothing her, he remembered there was someone else to check on—last night had been tough on her.
He left, ordered two breakfasts—one sent to Jiujiu—and took the other to Robin's room.
He ran into Firefly and Jinhsi en route, but since he was bringing food to Robin, they only exchanged brief words.
In a hazy muddle, a weak Robin opened her eyes.
She first felt the cling of soaked clothes against her skin, the clammy sensation bringing a sliver of clarity.
Then last night's synced experience rushed back; color surged in her cheeks and she wanted to vanish into the earth.
"Xiao Ming… how could he be so—"
She buried her burning face in the pillow, mind replaying the night, shocked.
As a superstar, she wasn't naïve.
But for her to faint just from synchronized sensation—if she experienced it firsthand, she doubted she'd survive. How did Xu Jiujiu on the front line endure it?
"What's wrong with me?"
As she wallowed in shame, a curious voice sounded by her ear.
"Of course it's Xiao Ming, he—ah!"
She answered reflexively, then realized—and shrieked.
Rigid with panic, she slowly turned to see Lu Jingming standing bedside with a near-smirk and a food box.
"A—Xiao Ming, why are you here?"
Startled like a frightened bird, she yanked up the sweat-drenched bedding to cover herself—especially the sticky, damp clothes—her final fig leaf.
"A strange scent. Little bird, what were you up to last night?"
He sniffed and frowned slightly. The smell was familiar—he'd caught it on Yae Miko, Zhang Lexuan, or Xu Jiujiu. His expression turned wry.
"N—nothing! Get out, I need to change. And how can you just barge into a girl's room?"
She felt her face burn as she cursed her curiosity from last night.
She urged him out while loudly scolding him to mask her fluster.
"I was worried about you—brought you breakfast. After what you went through, it must've been hard."
He set the tray on the nightstand and sat at the edge of the bed.
Leaning close, lips near her ear, he whispered like a devil.
"You—you know?"
She trembled, humiliation flooding her. She wished she could disappear.
She buried her face deeper, as if that could wall her off—or suffocate the shame.
"Thanks to you, Sister Jiujiu was exhausted last night. You must be empathizing with that exhaustion, right?"
He wore a mischievous smile, clearly pleased.
Her unintended act had made the heat of the moment even hotter; Xu Jiujiu bore more for it, and Robin hadn't escaped either—thus her late rising today.
Normally, she was among the earliest risers.
"Urk! Stop—just kill me!"
She groaned. She had no face left, especially before him. She couldn't even look up, drowning in shame.
"How could I bear to kill you? You're my treasure."
Finding her adorable, he flipped back the quilt and drew her gently into his arms, lifting her in a princess carry.
"W—what are you doing?"
She clamped her eyes shut, like an ostrich burying its head in sand.
"Taking you to bathe. You're soaked—must feel awful."
Holding her, he walked to the bathroom, his voice warm but irresistible.
"I—I can bathe myself. You… go out."
At the word "bathe," she panicked, last night's images flooding back.
She forgot shyness, eyes flying open in fear.
"No. You made a mistake last night—and need to be punished."
He had no intention of letting her off easily. Firm yet gentle, he carried her into the bathroom.
He turned on the hot water; steam drifted as warmth pattered down.
Her clothes slid away piece by piece under his hands.
"Mm—"
Too weak to resist, she only struggled feebly before blushing and biting her lip, giving up.
His nearness, the memory of those overwhelming sensations, left her limp.
She wasn't a fighter; her physical strength was lacking—more so in this scene.
Facing his former 2D-wife, especially with her guard down, he couldn't play the gentleman.
Robin's allure was irresistible; in the growing heat, he wanted to devour the diva.
Since she'd brought it on herself—and disrespected Xu Jiujiu a bit—he'd launch a surprise and make her pay a tiny price.
"Little bird, is that okay?"
Even on the brink, he held back enough to ask, voice restrained and tender.
"Mm."
She nodded lightly. She was at the edge of reason anyway.
His respect in that crucial moment dispelled her shame.
She knew that a shake of her head would have stopped him.
But rather than refuse, her heart brimmed with anticipation—longing to take another step with him.