Chapter 51: Not Sweet
The sunlight outside was perfect, streaming through the window lattice, casting dappled, warm patterns inside.
But Luo Jiutian only felt a chill down his spine.
At that moment, he was pinned against the wall, unable to move.
Luo Yunlan gazed up at him, her usually gentle eyes now tinged with a faint scarlet, a subtle Deity Transformation pressure lingering between them.
“Luo Yunlan, what are you doing?” he asked in a low voice.
As if she hadn’t heard, her slender, pale fingers slowly rose, brushing his cheek with a cool touch, her eyes glinting with a dangerous yet captivating smile. “Little Tian, you’re not being good.”
Her fingertips traced down his cheek as she murmured, “I can overlook you being close with Sister Wan’er—her status explains that… but that senior?”
Luo Jiutian froze, about to explain, but she cut him off. “I haven’t met her, but the lingering scent on you doesn’t lie.”
“If I weren’t strong enough, sharp enough, I might not have noticed~” Her lips curved, her smile carrying a thrilling danger. “Looks like your big sister needs to cover up those extra scents first…”
Before he could respond, she rose on her toes, a mix of assertiveness and possessiveness in her movement, and kissed him.
Her soft lips pressed against his, his breath catching, as if he were sinking into a warm ocean, unable to break free.
She pressed against him, like a soft vine wrapping tightly, leaving no gap.
Their lips’ warmth mingled, breaths intertwining, her faint fragrance spreading boldly, unyielding.
After a long moment, they parted.
Luo Yunlan’s breathing was slightly ragged, her eyes hazy.
She had initiated it, yet she seemed the one caught off guard, her breath uneven, cheeks flushed, strands of hair clinging to her snowy neck, accentuating her flustered charm.
Meanwhile, Luo Jiutian wasn’t unaffected either.
It was just a kiss, yet his spiritual energy stirred, his heartbeat faster than usual, as if a spark had ignited something.
“Tch.”
He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes to forcibly suppress the surging thoughts.
He couldn’t let her lead him any further.
If he indulged, even his rationality would be consumed.
But Luo Yunlan, as if unwilling to let him escape, kept smiling, her gaze fixed on him.
She knew Little Tian wouldn’t truly push her away.
That was his nature—seemingly cold, but deep down, impossibly gentle.
And that gentleness was exactly what she couldn’t resist.
“Little Tian…” she called silently, the scarlet in her eyes growing deeper.
His struggling yet hesitant expression… was just too adorable.
She really, really wanted to make him hers—completely, truly.
The thought thrilled her further.
Meanwhile, Luo Jiutian felt his breath falter, his divine sense clouded as if shrouded in mist, sinking deeper, unable to break free.
Just as his consciousness teetered on the edge of an abyss—
Ding!
A faint energy surged from his ring, spreading through his limbs.
In an instant, the chaos in his mind cleared.
It was White Tiger, acting from within the ring.
“Thank you, Senior,” he transmitted to the ring.
The ring trembled faintly but gave no reply.
Luo Jiutian didn’t dwell on it, turning his gaze to Luo Yunlan.
Sensing the change, she slowly looked up.
Their eyes met, and she froze.
His gaze was so unfamiliar it scared her, as if the comfort she once relied on had vanished.
“Little Tian?”
Her heart tightened inexplicably, leaving her at a loss, the scarlet in her eyes fading.
At that moment, he placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Yunlan, let’s sit down and talk, okay?” he said softly.
She stared, nodding instinctively.
They sat in the room.
Luo Jiutian carefully recounted Dugu Ningshuang’s offer to take him as a disciple, tweaking the details of what happened in the barrier. He omitted the intimate moment, saying she only got close to test his aptitude, resulting in some unavoidable contact.
Luo Yunlan listened, then lowered her head. “So that’s how it was… I misunderstood you.”
Silence fell.
After a few breaths, she pursed her lips, saying weakly, “I’m sorry, Little Tian.”
Hesitating, as if mustering courage, she explained, “Actually… earlier, I secretly passed something to you.”
“It’s… something to help your cultivation, to make it smoother in the future.” Her eyes darted away. “…It’s good stuff.”
She paused, her voice growing quieter. “It could’ve been passed with just a handshake, but I… got carried away and…”
Her words trailed off, barely audible, as if realizing she was making it worse, her cheeks flushing rapidly.
Luo Jiutian watched her silently.
After a few breaths, he smiled.
Not a polite or perfunctory smile, but the one Luo Yunlan knew best.
He took something from his robe and handed it to her.
“This is for you.”
It was a glossy, golden-tinged fruit—the Tempering Origin Persimmon he’d seized from the secret realm’s core.
Luo Yunlan froze, her eyes reddening.
She knew how precious it was, yet he gave it to her, even after her reckless actions.
“Little Tian…” Her voice carried an uncontainable tenderness.
His thoughtfulness was like a key, unlocking memories of their past life…
…
It was an ordinary afternoon.
She sat in the courtyard, cooling off with a book, when footsteps approached.
“Little Tian?”
Before she could speak, Luo Jiutian rushed in, holding a small package.
Back then, he hadn’t grown tall yet; her sitting and him standing put them at eye level.
“Yunlan,” his eyes sparkled, “didn’t you say you wanted some pastries? I passed by the market and got these for you.”
She smiled, taking the paper package. “You’re so thoughtful.”
Opening it, a sweet aroma wafted out. The pale yellow osmanthus cakes, dusted with fine sugar, were simple but fragrant.
“This shop’s famous,” he said, sitting beside her, a hint of pride in his voice. “I queued forever to get them.”
“You…” She smiled, taking a bite.
The first taste made her frown slightly.
Sweet.
Too sweet.
After a moment, she said honestly, “Little Tian, can you get less sugary ones next time? I don’t like them too sweet.”
The moment she spoke, she regretted it.
He’d been so excited, queuing so long, and here she was, nitpicking.
But to her surprise—
He only paused, then nodded with a smile. “Alright.”
They sat side by side, her eating just two pieces, him finishing the rest.
From then on, the osmanthus cakes he brought never had that overpowering sweetness.
Each time, they were perfectly balanced, fragrant without being cloying, as if tailored for her.
Back then, she only thought—
Little Tian was so good to her.
Back then, she was so happy.
Just like now.
She gently held the persimmon, her fingers trembling, fighting to keep tears from falling.
“Little Tian… thank you.”