21. The Fairy's Forbidden Desires

He sniffed the air like a greedy hound, chasing that fragrance's source, drawing it in with every breath.

A glimmer of delight crossed his face as he seemed to pinpoint the intoxicating scent's origin. He released Qing's hips, letting her round peach buttocks snap back to their perfect, moon-like shape with astonishing elasticity. He leaned forward, aiming his head at the damp spot beneath her abdomen, between her full, plump thighs, that dark, bottomless ravine, and exhaled softly.

"Mmm… ngh…"

The sensitive core of Qing's private place took the full brunt of Elder Mu's thick, hot breath at close range. Even through two layers of clothing, Qing, tasting the desire's full force for the first time, couldn't withstand it. Her body went limp, overwhelmed by an unbearable itch and ache, her delicate frame melting like spring mud.

Her pearly teeth bit her rosy lips, stifling the moan rising in her throat. Her breaths came in broken gasps, the soft sounds from her nose betraying her heart's turmoil.

Her trembling, softened body shook uncontrollably, her legs losing all strength. She stumbled backward, nearly collapsing to the floor.

Sensing the fragrance drifting away, Elder Mu lunged forward, seizing her plump, round buttocks again. His face pressed against her crotch, his nose sucking in air greedily, as if to devour every trace of that sweet scent. His coarse breaths hammered her sealed gates, and despite her will, her body betrayed her, leaking more sticky honey, soaking her undergarments and dampening her outer skirt.

Elder Mu, ecstatic, sniffed harder, seeking the aroma's root.

"Mmm… mm… no… no… don't…"

The wet, hot breath struck her skirt, the fabric clinging to her full mound as it touched and pulled away. Through the two layers plastered to her private place, Elder Mu's rough, relentless panting assaulted her like a persistent bee, exhaling to wet her dress, inhaling to draw in the sweet nectar.

The sensation jolted Qing's body like an electric shock. In a panic, she grabbed Elder Mu's frail arm, summoning her last shred of strength to wrench his hands free, liberating her peach-like buttocks from his deep grip.

She stumbled back several steps until her back hit the cold wall, finding some support. Her breaths came in chaotic bursts, her breathtaking beauty shining even in the dim night, drenched in sweat. Strands of hair clung to her temples and lips, her eyes dazed and stirred with emotion.

It took time for her senses to return. Only then did she realize her body was soaked, her clothes plastered to her tender, jade-like skin. The autumn breeze blew, and though immune to cold and heat, she shivered.

"Qing… Qing…"

Elder Mu's face flickered with confusion. He blinked, seeming to regain some clarity, but before he could fully react, a gust of wind swept through. The moonlit fairy by the wall vanished.

He sat alone, staring at the open door, dazed, sniffing the air as if savoring the lingering, intoxicating fragrance.

The next morning, a palace maid arrived with food and called for Elder Mu. He scrambled up, enduring her scolding. With no time to add his "special seasoning" to Qing's meal, he grabbed the food box and hurried to Lunar Tower to deliver her breakfast.

For the first time, Qing, who usually mediated lightly rather than truly slept, kept her chamber shut tight. The hall stood silent.

Elder Mu looked around, scratching his head. He didn't dare barge into Qing's chambers, but if the food cooled, she might blame him, and that terrified him.

His fear wasn't of punishment, but of losing her presence. To him, that was worse than death.

When Qing awoke, the sun hung high. She opened her eyes to a ray of sunlight streaming onto her bed. For the first time in days, her heart felt at ease, as if her cultivation had loosened slightly.

"I… can do it."

Qing murmured to herself, as if soothing or answering her own doubts. "So this is my trial… and my opportunity?"

But she knew she'd stepped onto a path of no return.

Self-discipline, emotional restraint, and the suppression of desire.

These formed Xian Sect's core teachings, the path to becoming a celestial maiden, following ancient immortals to a state of knowing emotion yet transcending it, possessing feeling yet remaining detached.

Yet human nature persisted. The seven emotions and six desires were innate. Forcing them down builds them up like a dam. Once breached, the locked passions flooded uncontrollably. Many unspoken traitors of Xian Sect fell for this reason.

But this was also a potent force, capable of shattering obstacles in her cultivation path.

When Qing Jiang emerged into the hall, dressed and composed, the air carried the scent of incense mingled with fish and vegetables.

Elder Mu had stuffed firewood into a small incense burner, setting a rack above it with a pot of boiling water. Bamboo strips held the now-warm food aloft, steam rising like a makeshift steamer to keep it hot.

"Cough, cough, cough…"

Covered in soot, Elder Mu fanned the flames while blowing air into the fire like a bellows, intensifying the blaze.

Seeing Qing enter, his grimy, wrinkled face lit up with genuine joy. "Qing… you're awake? Come, come eat!"

Her gaze softened slightly, and she nodded.

The warm, delicious dishes and rice landed on Qing's small table. She picked up her jade chopsticks, chewing slowly. With a glance, she caught Elder Mu, head bowed, sneaking looks at her. His stomach growled, and he swallowed hard.

Whether he craved food or her breathtaking beauty, she couldn't tell.

"You haven't eaten breakfast yet?"

For the first time, the usually silent and aloof Qing, who rarely spoke more than three sentences a day, inquired about Elder Mu's well-being.

"N-no, not yet!" Facing Qing, Elder Mu didn't dare lie, answering with nervous reverence.

Hearing this, Qing set down her chopsticks, pushed the food-laden table forward, and stood to leave the hall.

"Eat this."

"I'm going for a walk."

With a gentle wave, Qing's white dress fluttered in the breeze, her graceful figure vanishing like ethereal mist.

Elder Mu stood stunned in the hall. After a long moment, he shuffled forward hesitantly. Looking at the steaming, fragrant food, his withered fingers trembled as they picked up Qing's jade chopsticks. Shaking, he scooped up some rice and stuffed it into his mouth.

The sweet rice, the savory dishes… and a hint of warmth and fragrance from Qing's lips lingered.

Was it a lapse in propriety, or intentional?

Elder Mu felt both fear and exhilaration, a wild excitement bubbling within him.

Fear, because Qing had allowed him to use chopsticks that had touched her lips—did she know of his vile acts from days past?

Exhilaration and joy, because Qing didn't seem to despise him as much.

"Qing, you're so kind to me!"

Tears streamed down Elder Mu's face as he ate, sobbing while devouring the meal.

After sating his hunger, his mind drifted to last night's dream.

In the dream, Qing's hazy yet wondrous form glowed in moonlight, her curves breathtaking and delicate. Her shy expression, her full chest tightly bound by her fitted dress, her willow-slim waist, her hips like a ripe yet youthful peach, round as the moon beneath her skirt. Her soft, full thighs pressed together without a gap, the mysterious ravine between them endlessly alluring and intoxicating.

He raised his hand, squeezing the air, as if the astonishing elasticity and softness still lingered on his fingers.

"It didn't feel like a dream…" Elder Mu muttered to himself.

Meanwhile, Qing wandered the palace grounds, seemingly aimless, but her steps led her to Vermilion Pavilion, Mei Su's residence.

"Greetings, Qing."

The maids and eunuchs knelt in unison. As attendants to Mei Su, they knew Qing and Li's status in the palace, and Qing's significance to the royal family.

Qing nodded lightly, stepping over the threshold into her mother's inner chamber.

Mei Su reclined on a couch, a half-read book in hand. Her ornate phoenix robe hugged her shapely figure. A jade hand propped her cheek, revealing a hint of her fragrant shoulder. Her fair skin contrasted sharply with the rich colors of her attire, her curves highlighted by her pose. Her high, firm chest strained against the fabric, showing no sign of sagging, while her waist remained lithe and graceful. Her reclining hips rose like rugged peaks, ripe as a summer peach, inspiring awe and desire.

"Qing, you're here? Come, sit."

Seeing her daughter, Mei Su beamed with delight, rising to take Qing's hand and guide her to the soft couch. Her gaze was tender and warm, yet perceptive. She could tell Qing bore a burden, though her expression had eased, suggesting some relief.