Nine Dragons (1)

Mu Wanwan didnt hesitate anymore. She stepped carefully onto the soft mattress, gently lifted the quilt that was closer to the outer edge of the bed, and slowly slid under the covers.

She had put out all of the lamps but one. It was about two or three oclock in the morning, completely dark outside, and only a trace of dim lamplight remained in the entire room.

Mu Wanwan lay down. When her weary legs, which had been bent for a long time, touched the soft quilt, she couldnt help but let out a deep sigh. The slightly cool quilt took on her body heat and warmed up bit by bit, just like her cheeks, which were gradually tinged with crimson.

Although she told herself to ignore a certain dragon sleeping next to her, in the quiet space, Mister Longs very weak breathing was so obvious that Mu Wanwan couldnt help turning her head to peek at him.

Mister Long was lying motionless in the bold red bedding, obediently and well-behaved. From her angle, she could only see half of the chiselled contours of his profile, and those eyelashes that were so long they stirred up a little envy in others, curled and dense.

Mu Wanwan reached out silently and touched his eyelashes, then quietly turned her head away.

It was probably impossible for her to have such long and curly eyelashes in this lifetime

Mu Wanwan had initially thought that she wouldnt be able to fall asleep. After all, she was sharing a bed with the opposite sex for the first time in her life. However, she soon sank into a dark dreamland, and before those wild, foolish thoughts were even given any room to play, they had been quashed out on the bed by weariness.

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She slept very soundly, so exhausted that she couldnt even lift a finger, and lay firmly and securely in bed.

The room fell silent momentarily. In the quiet room, a faint mist spilled out from the low-grade spirit stone that Mu Wanwan placed next to Mister Longs ear, then disappeared into the tyrants body like water vapour.

But it was clear that there was too little spiritual power in the inferior spiritual stonethe process was frighteningly short, and almost an instant later, the originally slightly transparent low-grade spirit stone shattered into a fine powder.

Once again, the room fell into a terrible silence, which lasted for a long time.

It was perhaps almost dawn when Mister Longs fingers moved slightly.

There was soft bedding under his body. His tail, which had been painful and itchy, had also been treated. The tyrant could feel that there was a layer of low-grade ointment applied to it. The sticky feeling on his face had also disappearedsomeone had probably wiped it.

There was a hint of softness in the bottom of his heart. Because of the trace of nourishment from that bit of spiritual energy in his dried-up body, he had the chance to do his best to connect a small piece of his broken original core, and dispel a little of the curse, alleviating some pain.

So

She really didnt despise him?

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Mister Long couldnt accurately put what he was feeling into words. His tail was so wretched and filthy, but she actually wasnt repelled by it.

With a movement in his heart, a wisp of divine consciousness gradually emerged, slowly scanning everything around him.

Last time, he had been too narrow-minded.

As soon as the divine consciousness touched the bold red nuptial quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks, Mister Long withdrew his divine consciousness sharply, as if he had suddenly been scalded. His heart beat violently for a long time

How, how could she

It turns out that the soft thing under him wasnt simply an ordinary quilt, but a nuptial quilt?

Has she accepted him, and wanted to be with him?

His ears were very hot, and for the first time, the pain in his meridians was not comparable to his incessantly beating heart. Tentatively, Mister Long gradually pulled out a wisp of spiritual consciousness, slowly rippling it away from the red nuptial quilt that made him extremely ashamed.

The room was still the one he was familiar with. The jade bed was also the one he often slept on, just that two conspicuous sets of nuptial bedding had been added on top of it. In another quilt not far from him, lay a completely defenceless person who was sleeping sweetly.

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His blood flowed slowly. If Mu Wanwan was awake and if the black and red curse marks werent so obvious, she definitely wouldve been able to find that Mister Longs exposed face, neck, and two ears had become a shade of pink that was about to turn a deep crimson.

Next to a mongrel dragon that everyone considered disabled and disgusting, next to a great tyrant that everyone considered cold, cruel and murderous, she slept very quietly.

Mister Dragon struggled to slowly move his divine consciousness. That wisp of divine consciousness, which was lighter than air, slowly slid from Mu Wanwans neck, all the way across her cheeks, to the tip of her nose, her eyelashes, her forehead

She was not particularly good-looking.

The tyrant, who had seen countless beauties fawn over him at his peak, yet remained a bachelor dragon, thought with flushed ears.

She shouldnt be considered to be very pretty

But Mister Longs divine consciousness, the only thing he could move, somehow seemed to be out of control. It slid slowly across the cheeks of Mu Wanwan, who was peacefully asleep, finally resting on those slightly dry lips of hers. Tremblingly, it left a feather-light touch, then

It suddenly disappeared, as if it had never appeared before.

Mister Longs cheeks were so hot that he felt a little dizzy. While suppressing the pain that was gradually rising in his body, he blushed as he wondered hazily

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Was this what it felt like to kiss ones wife?

Sure enough, it was truly something else.