Du Juan stumbled back as the embrace released, sucking in ragged lungfuls of the tainted air.
Her gaze, almost against her will, flickered from Lin Zhaoyue's imposing silhouette, specifically the generous curves emphasized by her fitted robes, down to her own modest figure.
The sheer disparity in size was… depressing.
A sigh escaped her before she could censor it, the muttered words slipping out: "Size isn't everything. Personality is."
A beat of chilling silence followed. Du Juan's blood ran cold. I said that aloud?!
Slowly, dreadfully, she lifted her eyes.
Lin Zhaoyue was still smiling. But it was a smile laced with predatory amusement, her head tilted curiously.
"Oh my," she purred, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Is Little Sister… perhaps feeling inadequate?"
Du Juan flushed crimson, snapping her head away to stare fixedly at a pulsating azure stalk.
A low, melodic laugh bubbled from Lin Zhaoyue, the sound both beautiful and terrifying. "Relax, Little cuckoo."
