Dai Chengfeng's pupils contracted slightly.
If this were true, the value of this ring far surpassed that of any ordinary soul-guided artifact.
"And there's more!"
Seeing his interest, Ning Rongrong grew even more animated. She flipped to the next page. "It says here—if the wearers' soul attributes are compatible, and their resonance reaches a certain threshold, they can even…"
She suddenly paused, her cheeks flushing faintly, her voice dropping to a whisper: "…share a portion of their soul power in emergencies… and even… share each other's injuries."
The last few words were spoken so softly—but Dai Chengfeng heard them clearly.
Share injuries.
He knew exactly what that meant.
"That powerful?"
Genuine surprise colored his voice.
He'd received this ring from Ning Rongrong long ago, assuming it was merely a high-quality storage-type soul-guided device. He never imagined it held such profound abilities.
"Of course it's powerful!"
Ning Rongrong lifted her chin, pride gleaming in her eyes like a little peacock showing off her feathers. "I spent three whole months tracking this down! I practically ransacked your Spirit Hall's entire collection on ancient soul-guided artifacts—and even made a special trip to the Grand Library…"
She went on enthusiastically about her struggles, but her bright eyes never left Dai Chengfeng—clearly telegraphing one unspoken plea:
Praise me! Praise me!
Amused by her expression, Dai Chengfeng chuckled. He closed the ancient tome and set it back on the desk, then turned to her.
"So, Miss Ning," he said with a knowing smile, "after all this hard work… what kind of reward are you hoping for?"
Ning Rongrong blinked, caught off guard by his directness.
Her long lashes fluttered; the blush on her cheeks deepened further.
"R-Reward?" she echoed softly, fingers twisting nervously at her skirt hem.
"Yes, a reward." Dai Chengfeng leaned casually against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, watching her. "You've worked so hard—I should show my appreciation."
She bit her lip, eyes darting as if weighing options.
After a moment, she looked up at him, eyes sparkling with cautious hope.
"Then… could you treat me to something delicious? There's a new dessert shop in Spirit Hall City—their cakes are supposed to be amazing…"
"That's it?" Dai Chengfeng arched a brow.
"W-Well, what else would you suggest?" Flustered under his gaze, she looked away.
Seeing her feigned composure, Dai Chengfeng felt a sudden urge to tease her.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
Ning Rongrong instinctively backed up—until her back hit the desk, leaving her nowhere to retreat.
Dai Chengfeng leaned down, his lips brushing near her ear, voice low and warm breath ghosting over her sensitive skin:
"How about this—I'll let you kiss me. As a sacrifice on my part. Fair trade?"
Ning Rongrong shuddered violently. Her ears turned crimson before her blush spread across her entire face like a ripe apple.
"Y-You're talking nonsense!"
She shoved him hard—so hard he stumbled back half a step.
"What kind of reward is that?!"
She glared at him, eyes wide—but there was no real anger in them, only flustered embarrassment. "Dai Chengfeng, don't joke about things like that!"
"I'm not joking."
He shrugged, expression perfectly innocent. "My kiss is very precious, you know."
"W-Who'd want your stupid kiss!" Her face burned so fiercely it looked ready to steam.
She turned to flee—but Dai Chengfeng caught her wrist in an instant.
"Running already?" His voice was laced with amusement. "You haven't gotten your reward yet."
"I said I don't want that kind of reward!"
She struggled, but his grip was iron-tight.
Watching her indignant, flushed face, Dai Chengfeng found her utterly endearing.
With a gentle tug, he pulled her toward him.
Ning Rongrong gasped as she lost her balance—tumbling straight into his arms.
A delicate floral scent enveloped him. Her body was soft and warm; through the thin fabric of her dress, he could feel her trembling slightly.
One arm wrapped around her waist. Before she could react, he shifted—and settled her firmly across his lap.
"W-What are you doing?!"
Panicked, she pressed her palms against his chest, trying to push away.
But his strength was overwhelming. Her resistance was futile.
"If you don't want that reward," Dai Chengfeng murmured above her head, voice tinged with playful mischief, "then how about another one?"
"Wha—?"
Before she could finish, his hand landed lightly—but unmistakably—on her backside.
Not hard. Not painful.
But enough to freeze her completely.
Time seemed to stop.
She could feel the heat of his palm through the fabric of her skirt, imprinting itself on her skin.
The sensation wasn't painful—it was almost gentle—but the wave of shame that crashed over her was overwhelming.
"D-Dai Chengfeng…" Her voice trembled, disbelief lacing every syllable. "You… you…"
"How's this reward?" he asked calmly, tone unreadable.
Ning Rongrong's mind went blank.
Did he know?
Did he somehow know that being spanked triggered… that strange reaction in her?
The thought alone made her entire body burn. Her struggling weakened—unconsciously, almost imperceptibly, she even tilted her hips upward, just a fraction.
"T-This isn't a reward…" she muttered stubbornly, though her voice was barely a whisper, trembling in a way she didn't even realize. "It's… punishment. You're just bullying me…"
Dai Chengfeng didn't reply. Instead, he focused on the subtle shift beneath his hand.
Her body had gone rigid at first—but after that single tap, it had softened strangely… even leaning, ever so slightly, into his touch.
And through the thin fabric, her skin felt distinctly warmer.
A flicker of understanding passed through his eyes. The corner of his lips curved into a knowing, deeply amused smile.
So—he'd guessed right.
"Oh? Punishment, is it?"
His voice dropped lower, slow and teasing. "Then why do I get the feeling… someone doesn't quite agree?"
Before she could respond, his hand rose again—and landed with the same firm, deliberate gentleness.
"Pap."
The crisp sound echoed sharply in the quiet room, followed by Ning Rongrong's startled gasp—but more than that, a soft, involuntary whimper she couldn't suppress.
She buried her burning face in the crook of his shoulder, her heat seeping through his clothes.
She was acutely aware of her own body's traitorous response—that familiar, mortifying tingle spreading from where he'd struck, making her legs weak, forcing her to cling tighter to him.
"Mmm… s-stop… please…" she mumbled into his collar, her protest lacking all conviction, sounding more like a plea wrapped in coquetry.
"Why stop?"
Dai Chengfeng deliberately drawled, his hand continuing its unhurried rhythm—never painful, always just clear enough to remind her exactly what was happening.
"You said it was punishment, right? Then you'd better remember it well."
"Pap."
"Pap."
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