Li An's body had fully reverted to human form. The high-level awakening of his White Tiger bloodline now flooded his meridians with spiritual energy, like glaciers breaking apart, roaring through once-withered passageways. The sheer density of power felt foreign, yet it sharpened his awareness of just how absurd his current predicament was.
He was completely unclothed, locked against Su Ci's iron-like arms in a crushing embrace.
Su Ci seemed lost in some pleasant dream, the corner of his mouth curled with a trace of wild arrogance, his large head buried firmly in the crook of Li An's neck. Every exhale—hot, thick with the scent of a male martial artist—washed unrestrained over Li An's porcelain collarbone.
These two arrogant brutes… they dare treat this venerable one as a warming plaything.
A frost-blue light nearly spilled from Li An's eyes.
