The tea had been brewed the day before—now thoroughly chilled, slightly bitter on the tongue, but perfectly refreshing after a long walk under the sun.
Dai Chengfeng lifted the cup but didn't drink immediately. His gaze drifted to the rippling surface of the tea, and despite himself, the scene from the plaza replayed in his mind.
Ma Hongjun and Tang San…
The image was undeniably strange—yet carried an eerie kind of harmony.
Ma Hongjun's stocky, rugged frame beside Tang San's delicate, almost ethereal beauty created a stark, striking contrast.
And the heat in Ma Hongjun's eyes… the blush on Tang San's cheeks…
Dai Chengfeng took a slow sip of the cool tea and couldn't help but let a faint, amused smile curl at the corners of his lips.
This world was growing more fascinating by the day—so intriguing, even he could no longer claim to fully understand it.
The changes wrought by the Great Rejuvenation Pill seemed to be triggering a chain reaction—one even its creator hadn't foreseen.
"Brother Chengfeng?"
A voice as soft as a feather floated in from the courtyard gate, snapping him from his thoughts.
He turned—and his eyes brightened slightly.
Xiao Wu stood at the entrance, one hand resting lightly on the doorframe, half her body leaning into the courtyard.
Today, she wore a tailored white dress that ended just above her knees, revealing a pair of flawlessly straight, exquisitely sculpted legs.
In the morning light, they gleamed with an almost blinding fairness—her skin smooth as fine white jade, utterly flawless.
On her feet were slender white high heels, their delicate stilettos accentuating the graceful curve of her ankles and the elegant taper of her calves.
Her long hair wasn't loose as usual; instead, it was gathered high into a sleek ponytail, bound with a silver ribbon. The style revealed her smooth, high forehead and the slender, graceful line of her neck.
A few stray strands framed her temples, swaying gently with every subtle movement.
Her eyes—large, luminous, and fringed with long, upturned lashes—were fixed on him with a warm, playful glint, reflecting dappled sunlight and the green shadows of phoenix leaves.
"Xiao Wu."
Dai Chengfeng smiled, setting down his teacup. "You look beautiful today."
A soft blush bloomed across Xiao Wu's cheeks. She bit back a pleased smile—the kind only a young girl wears when flattered by someone she admires.
She stepped into the courtyard, her heels clicking crisply against the stone path with rhythmic, dance-like grace.
She settled onto the stone bench beside him, hands folded neatly on her lap. Her posture was upright yet relaxed—naturally elegant, never stiff.
As she sat, the hem of her white dress rode up just slightly, revealing another inch of smooth, pale thigh—but she didn't seem to mind.
Or perhaps, in Dai Chengfeng's presence, such casual intimacy had long since become second nature.
"Brother Chengfeng," she asked, blinking those large eyes—her lashes fluttering like butterfly wings—"were you talking to yourself just now? I thought I heard you say… 'Tang San'?"
Her voice was gentle, laced with curiosity—and something subtler, more tentative.
Dai Chengfeng nodded, not hiding the truth. "I saw him on my way back."
"Really?"
Xiao Wu's eyes sparkled brighter. She leaned forward slightly—a motion that loosened her neckline just enough to reveal the delicate hollow of her collarbone and a sliver of fair skin beneath.
"You saw Tang San? How is he? We've been apart for so many years… I can barely remember what he used to look like…"
Her questions tumbled out in a rush, filled with genuine warmth and longing—the kind only true friendship could inspire.
Watching her animated expression, Dai Chengfeng's own face grew oddly unreadable.
Let Xiao Wu see Tang San now?
That Tang San—barely recognizable from his former self?
The one Ma Hongjun stared at with burning desire and teased with suggestive words?
He could already picture Xiao Wu's reaction: shock? confusion? Or something far more complicated?
Dai Chengfeng lifted his cup again, letting the cold liquid slide down his throat, clearing the fog from his thoughts.
Setting the cup down, he traced a finger idly along its smooth surface, quickly weighing how best to answer.
"He's… fine," he said carefully, choosing the most neutral phrasing possible. "Seems his cultivation is progressing well."
"Oh, that's good."
Xiao Wu exhaled in relief, her shoulders relaxing. She propped her chin in her hands, elbows resting on the stone table, gazing absently toward a patch of sky beyond the courtyard wall.
"I miss Tang San so much… I really want to see him again."
"I wonder what he looks like now… Is he still the same as before…?"
Her voice trailed off, dreamy and distant, as if speaking more to herself than to him.
Sunlight filtered through the phoenix leaves, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across her face—making her expression seem hazy, almost otherworldly.
Dai Chengfeng watched her silently.
She truly was lovely today—not in a polished or artificial way, but with a natural vibrancy that radiated from within.
The white dress made her skin appear even fairer; the high ponytail gave her a crisp, youthful energy, softened only by those stray wisps of hair.
And then there were her legs—bare, sunlit, nearly translucent in their fairness. Her pores invisible, her knees softly rounded, her calves flowing into perfect lines that disappeared into those pristine white heels.
Without thinking, Dai Chengfeng's hand reached out—his broad palm settling gently over her exposed knee.
The skin beneath his touch was warm, supple, silken—alive with gentle heat.
He could feel the subtle shape of bone beneath: the smooth dome of her kneecap pressing faintly into his palm.
Xiao Wu shivered—like a startled fawn.
Crimson flooded her cheeks, spreading down her neck, even tinting her ears a delicate, tempting pink.
She lowered her lashes, eyes fixed on his hand—but didn't pull away. Only her fingers, resting on her lap, curled inward slightly, knuckles whitening.
She pressed her lips together—those pale pink petals briefly paling further before returning to their dewy, rosy hue as she released them.
Her breathing grew quicker, her chest rising and falling softly, the neckline of her white dress swaying with each breath.
Dai Chengfeng's thumb moved unconsciously, stroking the smooth skin of her knee—an absentminded gesture of closeness.
His mind was still tangled in thoughts of Tang San; this touch wasn't deliberate seduction, merely instinct.
Yet his fingers drifted upward—tracing the impossibly soft skin of her inner thigh.
There, her flesh was even more tender, more sensitive. He felt her entire body tense instantly—taut as a drawn bowstring.
"Brother Chengfeng…"
She whispered his name, voice trembling like a feather brushing against the heart.
Dai Chengfeng snapped back to awareness.
Looking down, he realized his hand had already traveled from her knee to mid-thigh—mere inches from the edge of her dress lining.
Beneath his palm, her skin burned hotter, muscles quivering faintly.
He cleared his throat awkwardly and withdrew his hand—though his fingertips grazed her skin one last time as they pulled away, making her shiver again.
"Just… habit," he muttered, rubbing his nose with feigned nonchalance, trying—and failing—to mask his momentary lapse.
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