novelraw Chapter 815: Greatly Unfilial and Rebellious (Big Chapter — Please Vote) 3
Chapter 815: Greatly Unfilial and Rebellious (Big Chapter — Please Vote) 3
Guangshen Riverside Expressway.
A black Audi A6L sped through the night.
Thick privacy partitions were raised, blocking the driver and the secretary in the front from view and sound.
Inside the car the light was dim, only the passing city lights outside occasionally sweeping across and outlining the silhouettes of the two people in the back seat.
This official car had been specially switched to be discreet and confidential, so the rear space was not especially spacious.
They sat side by side, the distance between them very close.
“As for the structure of that Pan-Entertainment Industry Fund, my thought is that it doesn’t need to be entirely dependent on Tang Entertainment’s balance sheet. Of course, Smile must have her own risk-control model for this, you can discuss it with her when you have time later…”
Ouyang Xianyue sat erect on the right, hands gracefully folded on her knees as she spoke with composure.
Her profile in the interplay of light and shadow looked calm, splendid, and majestically untouchable, like a finely carved jade statue,
yet only she knewhow rapidly her heart was beating right now.
They talked all the way about industry layout, technical routes, even family matters.
Every sentence was reasonable, flawless.
But beneath the dignified, serious surface,
in each brief meeting of their eyes;
in the silent mingling of breath between them;
in every slight contact caused by road bumps,
something subtle, moist, and burning was quietly taking root and wildly spreading.
Ouyang Xianyue adjusted her posture slightly and cast her gaze toward the neon streaking past outside, trying to divert her attention.
But inside the sealed cabin, there was nowhere to escape.
She could clearly smell the scent coming from this young man beside her.
It was a mix of cigar and champagne undertones, and the sharp, clean hormone scent unique to a young male.
He was leaning so close.
So close she felt the heat radiating from his body, close enough to make her imagine
that if he leaned just a little more, he could kiss her neck.
Stop! Don’t think that!
She immediately cut off the thought, elegantly tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear,
trying to maintain the line of reason.
This was too abnormal.
Even back then in Rongcheng, in that teahouse, when he stood close behind her and guided her in writing wild cursive, she could remain fully in control,
even skillfully playing his emotions while keeping her own dignity.
But today, she found herself losing control.
A brief silence fell in the cabin, only the low hum of the engine and the rush of wind outside.
“We’re already in Bao’an District; we’ll enter the urban area soon.”
Suddenly Tang Song raised a hand and pointed at the dazzling lights outside, breaking the quiet.
Ouyang Xianyue hurriedly gathered herself and lightly led, “Yes, ahead is Qianhai; Tang Yi Precision’s Innovation Industrial Park is over there. You haven’t been here for more than three years, right? The changes are big.”
Tang Song turned his head at her words.
Under the night sky the skyscrapers around Qianhai Bay rose in clusters, radiating light and color, showing the city’s top vitality and ambition.
“It’s indeed beautiful, full of energy.” Tang Song withdrew his gaze, turned to look at her, his eyes deep and focused, smiling: “You’ve done exceptionally well these past two years, good work.”
Under that gaze Ouyang Xianyue’s heart missed a beat.
She covered her mouth lightly in a disguised laugh, radiance appearing in her eyes as she said, “Haha, it’s just the dividend of the times; I only followed the current. But… if you’re satisfied, I’m happy.”
“By the way, is your father adapting to his new job?” she changed the topic.
“Yes, he’s very energetic now, very fulfilled every day, thanks to how well you arranged things.”
“Uncle is actually still young, not even fifty, exactly the age to be doing things…”
So, in casual small-talk here and there, the car was about to exit the tunnel.
Ahead was a large ramp connecting the highway and the municipal road.
The car suddenly tilted to the side with a sharp—
A somewhat abrupt deceleration and turn brought a noticeable centrifugal inertia.
Ouyang Xianyue seemed caught off guard; her center of gravity wavered and she uncontrollably leaned left toward Tang Song.
“Ah—”
She let out a soft sound, and that well-maintained right hand, by instinct looking for support, fell onto Tang Song’s firm, powerful thigh.
Under her palm she felt the young man’s taut, hard, hot muscle.
That explosive life-force, even through the thin suit fabric, made her fingertips tremble.
Her hand did not withdraw.
It simply stayed quietly on his thigh.
She offered a slightly apologetic smile.
“Once we go through the Dongbin Tunnel up ahead, it’ll be about ten minutes to the villa. You’ve been running around all day with golf and receptions; you must be exhausted, right?”
If this action were exchanged between purely elder and junior, it might be explainable as an unintentional gesture of care.
But at this moment, on the dim back seat with only a man and a woman, in that sensitive spot, the implication became subtle and ambiguous.
It was plainly an insinuation and a flirtation tinged with the mature woman’s unique charm.
“It’s actually fine.” Tang Song’s gaze scanned the noblewoman’s hand, then fell on her mature, elegant face, “Golf was fun, especially playing with you. I think this is the first time we’ve attended such an event together.”
Hearing the suggestive remark, Ouyang Xianyue pressed her slightly dry, full lips together.
She naturally withdrew her hand, brushed hair behind her ear, and met his eyes again.
There was a watery shine in her composed phoenix-like eyes, “Yes. Before, you were always coming and going in a hurry; our communication was mostly emails and calls. You’ll definitely visit Shen City more often in the future… chances like this should increase, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
20:30 in the evening.
Shen City, Shekou Hillside Villa District.
The black Audi A6L avoided the main gate and drove directly into the villa’s underground garage to a reserved enclosed parking spot.
The car door opened.
The garage light was soft, the environment exceptionally tidy, with a faint scent of circulating fresh air.
Walls clad in high-end dark gray stone, floors shining so bright they reflected, and aside from this car and a business vehicle beside it, there was nothing else.
“This is your first time here, right? Get familiar with the environment; it isn’t far from Xuanji Optical World’s future headquarters, so commuting will be convenient.”
Ouyang Xianyue stepped out, her tone laced with a hint of expectation and pleasure.
“Yes.” Tang Song nodded with meaning, his gaze briefly sweeping the private space before he followed the noblewoman toward the private elevator connecting the garage and the main residence.
Secretary Chen stepped forward quickly and swiped a special card to open the elevator.
Bowing slightly, she said, “President Tang, Ms. Ouyang, after you.”
The elevator went straight to the first-floor main hall.
The moment the door opened the view burst wide.
It was a spacious hall that perfectly blended modern minimalism with new-Chinese style.
Every piece of furniture and artwork had been carefully considered—too much would be gaudy, too little would be poor taste.
Outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows lay a meticulously groomed courtyard lit with accent lights,
quiet, elegant, and intensely luxurious.
It matched Tang Song’s assumptions about the noblewoman’s aesthetics, a high degree of temperament fit.
Just as they entered the living room,
a figure rose from the sofa at the sound.
She wore a neat female suit, posture erect.
Her tousled, slightly curled brown hair was immaculately styled, makeup precise and capable, eyes sharp with professional acumen,
and bright red lips against fair skin gave her a commanding presence.
“Ms. Ouyang, President Tang, good evening.”
Mo Xiangwan stepped forward a few paces, voice clear and steady, her eyes quickly sweeping both of them.
“Good evening, Xiangwan.” Tang Song smiled and nodded.
“Xiangwan, thank you for coming all the way from Hong Kong so late; you must be tired.” Ouyang Xianyue’s face showed a warm, familiar smile, her tone intimate. “Have you eaten dinner?”
“I have, thank you Ms. Ouyang for your concern.” Mo Xiangwan responded appropriately, then looked at Tang Song and explained, “President Tang, sorry to disturb your evening. I just happened to be in Hong Kong these past couple of days, coordinating a potential investment target for a streaming platform. It’s related to Nebula International Group’s IPO. Since you have returned, I thought it might be good to discuss some preliminary ideas and policy risks face-to-face tonight, so I can follow up with Wen Ruan.”
Her statement was airtight,
even taking the blame for the late-night disturbance on herself, providing a justified pretext for Ouyang Xianyue’s invitation.
A hint of satisfaction flashed in Ouyang Xianyue’s eyes; she appreciated it.
She raised a hand elegantly to indicate, “Work is important; don’t stand, sit and talk. Secretary Chen, bring the tin of Zhengshan Xiaozhong from the study and make a fresh pot of tea.”
The three moved to a scenic tea seating area on the side of the living room.
Under the gentle light, tea fragrance rose in curling tendrils.
The conversation naturally pivoted to the Pan-Entertainment Industry Fund and streaming investment that Mo Xiangwan mentioned.
Mo Xiangwan was well prepared, concise and factual with detailed data.
Ouyang Xianyue occasionally raised key questions, all hitting the mark and showing deep commercial skills.
Tang Song mostly listened, occasionally offering opinions.
The atmosphere was professional and harmonious, as if this were a truly efficient closed-door business meeting.
After more than half an hour,
Mo Xiangwan checked her watch and took the initiative to stop, “Ms. Ouyang, President Tang. It’s late. I mainly wanted to bring up this topic and report the direction to you two. You’ve both been active all day and must be tired, so… shall we stop here for tonight? I’ll submit a written report to the family office tomorrow with specific details.”
This proposal showed professional courtesy and thoughtful consideration.
It was the perfect flatter.
Ouyang Xianyue’s mind stirred slightly but her face remained composed.
She raised her teacup and sipped, as if pondering, then set the cup down and said slowly:
“All right. Since the direction is set, the details need not be resolved right away.”
She lifted her head, her gaze casually sweeping Tang Song before settling on Mo Xiangwan in a gentle, natural tone:
“Xiangwan, don’t go back tonight. It’s late and traveling back to the city or crossing the border would not be safe. The downstairs guest rooms are always kept by the staff; you can stay here. Tell Secretary Chen later and spend the night here.”
“Tomorrow morning I’ll have the family office’s legal team come over; we’ll hold a morning meeting and get this matter moving. After all, Tang Entertainment has many pressing matters; efficiency comes first.”
Mo Xiangwan hesitated a little, then nodded: “Then I’ll trouble you, Ms. Ouyang. It’s my honor to stay here tonight; I also want to ask you about some mainland capital operation experience.”
“No problem, we’re all on the same side—don’t be so formal.”
Ouyang Xianyue smiled and breathed a subtle sigh of relief; this move stabilized that play.
She then turned her head and fixed her gaze on Tang Song.
Her expression became tender, “Tang Song… actually there’s one more thing. Since we’re on the subject, I think I should tell you.”
“Oh? What is it?” Tang Song rolled his fingers on his warm teacup, looking at the noblewoman calmly.
“It’s about Smile…” Ouyang Xianyue let out a small sigh and lowered her voice, “She flew directly to Shen City this afternoon by private jet. She’s currently at Shen Bay Harbor House; she should be going to see Qing Ning.”
Tang Song’s expression tightened slightly.
He knew Secretary Jin, the fake socialite, and Big Sister had arrived in Shen City today and had been communicating by WeChat,
but he didn’t know Secretary Jin had gone to see Qing Ning.
Neither of them had told him.
His feelings about Bai Yueguang were different; he couldn’t help but worry about her state.
Ouyang Xianyue watched his expression and continued in that calm, big-picture tone:
“You know Smile’s personality; when she sets her mind on something, no one can stop her. Besides… this is a latent risk that has to be addressed sooner or later.”
“I think this is a conversation that must happen between those two women. At this critical moment, you are actually the least suitable person to show up. If you go back now, you will only make the situation more awkward and might even escalate the conflict.”
She paused, leaning forward a little, her eyes full of concern and an invitation:
“So… why don’t you stay here tonight?”
“Give them enough independent space and dignity to handle it themselves. Also, if you spent the night at Su Yu’s place or Wen Ruan’s, and the news reached Smile or Qing Ning, it could trigger greater misunderstanding and backlash.”
“If you stay here, with Xiangwan and me around to watch and talk business, it’s the most proper choice for all parties—hard to find fault with. What do you think?”
When she finished, to avoid suspicion she even deliberately looked toward Mo Xiangwan.
Mo Xiangwan pursed her red lips, “Ms. Ouyang has considered this very thoroughly.”
Tang Song glanced at his manager and then at the noblewoman,
sensing some tacit understanding between the two of them.
Goodness!
Ms. Ouyang, you’re showing some serious smooth maneuvering!
She’d deliberately called Mo Xiangwan here and set everything up just so.
He took a deep breath and felt his heartbeat quicken.
Ouyang Xianyue was plainly extending a naked invitation!
The effect of Desire’s Echo was truly top-tier!
It had turned this woman—usually famed for being icy-pure and strategically reserved—into someone so proactive and unguarded.
That contrast of a lofty, reserved exterior falling into a frenzy of desire was shockingly powerful
and made his own heart grow hot.
All along, with Ouyang Xianyue he had never quite known how to handle the relationship.
On one side, her identity was too special.
Noble birth, married into a wealthy family, now a widow.
Even now she was closely connected to her late husband’s family, representing the face of both sides.
That “sacredness” and “untouchability” were both her façade and the dignity she relied on.
On the other, there was an age and experience gap, and her role as a pillar supporting his domestic business made him always keep a respect for her.
But now…
the noblewoman had handed him the key to unlock her.
Who knew what sort of Desire’s Echo instance would be triggered next?
Tang Song set down his teacup and said solemnly, “All right, then I’ll trouble you tonight.”
Upon hearing that, Ouyang Xianyue’s fingers folded on her knees trembled suddenly.
She lowered her eyelids to hide the burst of euphoria and shame that had flashed across her face.
.......
A little after nine, the night had deepened.
Ouyang Xianyue led Tang Song and took the villa’s internal elevator up to the third floor,
the area with the best views and the highest privacy in the entire residence.
She pushed open the heavy solid-wood door to the master guest room and a spacious, tasteful space came into view.
From the quality of the bedding and the faint elegant scent in the air to the arrangement of decor, every detail reflected the hostess’s taste and delicate thought.
“These rooms are cleaned regularly; toiletries are all fresh.” Ouyang Xianyue stood at the doorway without stepping in, trying to keep her usual calm and composure. “Take a look, are you satisfied?”
“Very much.” Tang Song’s gaze swept the room and finally returned to her, nodding: “Thoughtful, thank you.”
“Heh,” she smiled lightly, a ripple in her eyes, “Do you still need to be so polite with me?”
“All right.”
They faced each other.
An invisible current seemed to pass through the air, stirring a delicate hush.
At this stage it felt like the formalities were done.
But nobody said “good night.”
Ouyang Xianyue pressed her lips together; the impulse secretly catalyzed by Desire’s Echo finally broke through her mental barriers.
She suddenly stepped forward half a pace, closing the distance until their breaths could be heard.
“Sir. Back in Rongcheng, you gave me guidance on my calligraphy. Since then I’ve had some insights; recently I’ve been practicing wild cursive with some dedication and feel I’ve made slight progress.”
She paused, her voice sinking a touch:
“The study on the third floor is right next door, and there I have some of my best stationery collections. Would you… be willing to move there to appraise my work and point out any mistakes?”
Her breath carried a faint elegant perfume and feminine warmth. Tang Song looked into the light hiding in her eyes and nodded:
“It would be my honor.”
Given his affirmation, the light in Ouyang Xianyue’s eyes flared even brighter, like a star igniting.
She smoothed the stray hair at her ear, elegant as ever.
“Please sit in the study for a moment; the tea there is kept warm. This outfit has some dust on it; it’s not convenient to write in. I’ll quickly freshen up and change into something more suitable for calligraphy and come back.”
Having said that she bowed her head graciously to Tang Song and then turned, walking along the corridor carpeted in soft rugs.
Though she tried to keep her pace composed, it was a little faster than usual, betraying her unsettled mood.
Watching her leave, Tang Song paused for a moment, took a deep breath,
and opened the study door next door alone.
It was a Chinese-style study full of scholarly atmosphere.
On the rosewood desk, rice paper was already spread out and an inkstone gave off a faint fragrance of ink.
He walked to the desk and casually picked up each stationery piece—each an expensive fine.
Then he went to the window to look out at the quiet courtyard night,
but found himself unable to calm down.
This out-of-control noblewoman presented too great a temptation,
so different from the composed female CEO.
Ouyang Xianyue represented aged wine of time, power and maturity entwined, an awe-inspiring voluptuous charm.
Conquering her would bring not just carnal satisfaction but a secret triumph over power and perfect dignity.
Time crawled slowly in the tormented waiting.
About ten minutes later,
knock, knock, knock.
Three restrained, clear knocks sounded.
“Please come in.” Tang Song turned to face the door.
“Oh—”
The study door opened and Ouyang Xianyue entered, closing the door behind her with a light hand.
Tang Song’s breathing halted, heart skipping a beat.
She had changed into a qipao.
Not the slightly modernized white one she wore in Rongcheng, but a very standard ink-colored silk qipao,
the perfectly structured cut outlining the curves her years had matured into.
The fabric reflected a low luxurious sheen in the warm light, embroidered in the same color thread with intricate cloud patterns; with each step the dark pattern rippled, splendid but restrained.
It brought out the mature woman’s unique mystery and noble charm to the extreme.
She let her black mid-length hair fall down casually.
A pair of round, lustrous pearl earrings swayed slightly with her movement, highlighting the graceful line of her neck.
The dress had a high slit.
As she walked toward him, every step revealed a fleeting patch of white skin.
Stunning, yet her composed bearing transformed any hint of frivolity into infinite charm.
She stopped at the desk, hands folded, her composed phoenix eyes quietly watching Tang Song.
“Sir, sorry to have kept you waiting.”
Tang Song’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, sincerely complimenting: “This qipao is beautiful; it suits you.”
Ouyang Xianyue parted her red lips but did not respond with words; her eyes flickered as a form of acceptance.
Her gaze fell to the paper, ink, and brush already set on the desk.
“Last time in Rongcheng you guided me, saying my writing had spirit but hid its edge too much, missing a kind of wildness.”
She spoke while moving to the desk.
She reached out her well-cared-for hand and picked up an ancient ink stick.
“I’ve had some free time, so I repeatedly copied Huai Su’s Zixu Tie. I’ve gained some understanding in the wild cursive’s turns and freedom.”
“Today I’d like you to take a look and tell me whether between concealment and release I’ve found any doorway.”
She gently pressed the ink stick onto the water-moistened inkstone and began to grind ink.
At first her movements were slow and steady.
She leaned slightly forward, her neck and shoulder forming an elegant arc, the ink-colored silk qipao tightening into a breathtaking S-shaped curve with her motion.
Her wrist lifted and turned with even strength.
Round and round.
The ink stick rubbed the stone with a rhythmic whisper, like a heartbeat rhythm in the quiet study.
Tang Song did not stand opposite her; he walked slowly to stop half a step behind and to her side.
This angle was highly aggressive.
His gaze unabashedly slid from her trembling eyelashes down her straight back and finally landed on the fullness that rose and fell with her breath as if wanting to break free from its thin restraint.
Silence itself became the richest catalyst.
Under that burning stare, Ouyang Xianyue’s movements paused but quickly resumed their composed rhythm.
After some time,
the ink had become thick and glossy.
She set down the ink stick, picked up a purple-hair brush and loaded it with thick ink.
Taking a deep breath, she placed the brush on the white rice paper.
The brush moved like dragons and snakes.
Two lines of the wild cursive Zixu Tie leapt onto the paper, strokes fierce yet faintly chaotic.
“What do you think, sir?” She paused the brush and did not turn, her voice slightly tight.
“Your strokes have always been steady.”
Tang Song stepped forward and closed the gap behind her.
His hot body heat immediately enveloped the noblewoman.
He whispered into her ear, “But to write good wild cursive, steadiness alone isn’t enough.”
He then naturally reached out, taking the wrist of the hand holding the brush.
His fingertip pressed against the place where her pulse beat most strongly.
“This needs to loosen.”
Ouyang Xianyue shivered as if struck by electricity.
Before she could react, Tang Song’s other hand had already covered her rounded, tense left shoulder.
A warm breath brushed her ear:
“And there’s posture.”
“Relax the shoulders, let power rise from the waist, through the arms, and into the fingertips… don’t be rigid.”
As he spoke,
the hand on her shoulder did not stop.
It slid down the smooth satin fabric.
Past the protruding shoulder blade, past the alluring hollow at her waist.
In the end, with force and exploratory intent, it rested on her taut, flat lower abdomen.
Under his palm the cool, delicate touch of the silk qipao contrasted with the burning warmth of her body.
He could even clearly feel the tiny tremors caused by her excitement.
Ouyang Xianyue’s breathing instantly lost its rhythm, becoming rapid and heavy.
Her back pressed against his chest, feeling his steady, strong heartbeat.
Her abdomen was firmly controlled by that large hand and her whole body went soft.
Tang Song did not stop.
He increased the grip on her wrist a little, with an imperious pull that allowed no refusal, forcing that trembling purple-hair brush to descend upon the white paper again.
The brush traced the paper with a sa-sa sound.
This time it was no longer a dignified, neat copying.
It was a frenzied scribing born of mingled breath and tightly entangled bodies.
Tang Song’s palm rubbed her lower belly gently.
Each press relaxed her brushwork a bit more.
The thick ink bloomed on the paper into ambiguous warm blotches; lines became wild and unrestrained.
His jaw occasionally brushed her temple; her hair swept his neck.
That friction and pressure through fabric were amplified by nerve endings.
Electric currents raced through limbs and marrow.
Soon, two lines were done.
Tang Song slowly released his hold and stepped back half a pace.
“Ouyang, how was this one?” His voice low, containing a faint smile.
Ouyang Xianyue panted heavily, her chest heaving.
The characters on the paper danced like dragons and phoenixes, already divorced from previous rules and order.
Just like her right now.
After several seconds she barely found her voice:
“Sir’s characters are excellent. Force penetrates the paper, the momentum is magnificent… I… my mind was not calm; I lost my measure.”
“No matter, with more practice you’ll be fine; you have great talent.”
Tang Song looked at her reddened, elegant neck; the conqueror’s satisfaction and fulfillment inside him peaked at this moment.
He clearly remembered last time in Rongcheng
how this noblewoman effortlessly guided him, testing his emotions with methods yet keeping the initiative fully in her hands.
She was thick-skinned, deep, always proper, like an insurmountable mountain.
But now,
watching her lose control, tremble in his palm, having her breath disrupted by him—
that total reversal of hunter and prey, that triumph of dragging a lofty blossom down from its shrine, was addictive.
Emotionally unmoored, Ouyang Xianyue did not dare meet his eyes.
She drew in a deep breath and gathered herself to maintain her dignity.
“I thought I had some realization just now; I want to try again.”
She lifted the brush once more, soaked in ink.
She concentrated for a moment, wrist suspended over the paper, as if weighing words and calming the heartbeat still wild. The brush hovered an inch above the paper, trembling slightly, ink about to drip.
The study grew extremely quiet, only their interwoven breath and the occasional wind outside.
Under the lamp she turned her head slightly to glance at Tang Song.
The flickering light played on his handsome profile—high nose bridge, composed expression.
A bit of the collar opened, revealing a strip of cold, sexy clavicle.
So young.
So handsome.
So strong.
This was a body full of vitality, explosive power, and dominance.
Heat surged frantically from the inner thighs, waist, lower abdomen, and behind the ear.
This was desire.
For so many years she had borne the reputation of a chaste, resolute woman.
Even she felt she should have been a jade figure without desire.
But now she could not control her emotions.
Finally the brush descended.
The strokes began in the lean, rounded style of Huai Su, maintaining her usual dignified aloofness.
However,
as the ink spread across the paper, the emotion between the lines gradually became fervent, intense, even wild.
Leaning against the high tower,
gazing endlessly as deep bay waters flow on.
Old tales cannot be retrieved, who understands a lone icy heart’s sorrow?
Ink stains the silk robe,
unable to hide the lingering sorrow at the brows
Desire breaks the clear autumn, (left blank)
Yet at the last line—the most crucial, the required finishing force—her brush tip froze in mid-air.
She set down the purple-hair brush and turned, leaning lightly against the broad desk.
Her phoenix eyes full of glitter, lips slightly parted: “Sir, for this final line’s closure… I feel the strength cannot continue; the mood is incomplete.”
Her eyelashes lowered and then rose; she looked at him with shining eyes.
“Could I ask you to finish it for me? So I can see where the boundary between concealment and release really lies.”
“All right.” Tang Song took the brush and dipped it in the still-warm ink in her inkstone.
His gaze first fell on her leaning silhouette.
Ink-colored silk wrapped the rounded waist, casting faint dark highlights in the warm light.
The unfinished line ended right beside the curving sway of her waist.
Ouyang Xianyue met his stare and slowly said: “Only waiting for you to unhook the jade clasp.”
Those words were like a spark thrown into dry kindling, utterly igniting the room’s taut erotic tension.
Tang Song looked at her deeply, no more words, then turned and set brush to paper, the strokes fierce and powerful.
On the rice paper,
two kinds of script, one of them unruly.
Tang Song casually tossed the brush back onto the inkstone.
Ink splattered.
He slowly turned and looked down at the noblewoman from above.
Ink-dark emotion surged in his eyes, deep enough to pull a person in.
Ms. Ouyang, you’re really cultured!
Putting it so plainly, I cannot be blamed for being greatly unfilial and rebellious!
He stepped forward.
The already short distance between them vanished instantly.
Her voluptuous, curvaceous body, wrapped in the ink-colored silk qipao, pressed tightly against his hard chest.
Through the thin fabric, an unspoken tremor filled the air.
Tang Song’s palm dropped and clasped the curve between her soft waist and hips.
Under his palm the sensation was the taut silk fabric atop a warm, soft, full body.
The remarkable elasticity and warmth streamed through his hand, making his Adam’s apple bob.
“Ah—” Ouyang Xianyue let out a very low exclamation.
“Ouyang, did you write this poem?”
“…Yes.”
“You wrote it beautifully. The writing is literary, the imagery profound.”
Tang Song’s hand did not stop but slid down the smooth Song brocade, passing her ample crotch and finally arriving at the very daring high slit of the qipao.
His fingertips moved slightly, touching that shocking patch of white.
“Especially the last line…” he repeated with meaning: “Only waiting for you to unhook the jade clasp.”
His words, his gaze, and his actions—
for a woman who always maintained dignity and valued her reputation above her life, this was naked humiliation and stimulation,
yet at this moment it burned her all over like a fire, making her crave even more.
“Thank you for the praise, Sir.” Ouyang Xianyue licked her red lips and then, as if possessed, said, “But I feel that in private occasions, it might be inappropriate for you to call me ‘Ouyang’ so formally.”
Under the impact of Desire’s Echo she had already completely lost control.
She even began to actively seek a deeper form of stimulation.
Tang Song’s finger followed into the slit and landed on her thigh.
The skin, warm with life.
The sensation was outrageously good.
Her slightly sweaty skin shivered violently.
“How should I address you then?”
Ouyang Xianyue remained silent, only pressing her legs slightly together.
Those moist phoenix eyes looked deep into Tang Song.
“Madam?”
That address made Ouyang Xianyue’s pupils dilate, and she nearly fainted.
Before she could respond, Tang Song’s other hand cupped her long elegant neck.
His thumb pressed with an undeniable force, rubbing her jaw and forcing her chin up to meet the inky tumult in his eyes,
then he kissed her.
Not a test, but a seizure.
He tasted the faint tea and sweetness on her lips, feeling that moist softness.
The kiss grew deeper and harder, as if to swallow all her reserve and reason.
“Mm—”
Ouyang Xianyue made a suppressed, sobbing sound.
A rush of crimson spread from her face to her ears and neck—the dye called shame, but it painted the most brilliant view.
In this suffocating kiss,
nearly a decade of restraint, acting, and chastity...
All family, identity, and supposed purity
turned to nothing.
She closed her eyes and gripped Tang Song’s strong back.
Feeling this long-awaited abandon, feeling that soul-deep self.
She screamed, trembled, and reveled in this greatly unfilial, rebellious pleasure.