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"You can't even beat me, how could you possibly beat Shu Jun?" He propped his arms up next to her head and asked condescendingly.

Yichun glared at him: "Are you sure I can't beat you? Or that I'm just letting you win?"

If the other party is an enemy, she naturally has dozens of ways to deal with them. That brat thinks that Xiang Rang is incompetent!

Yang Shen stared at her intently for a while, then looked away and said softly, "In short, I won this time. There's no point in you arguing anymore. Be careful in the future..."

Before he could finish speaking, he felt her grab his collar and try to throw him away. He simply leaned his whole body against her, and his cheek accidentally brushed against hers, causing a flutter in his heart.

"Alright, stop fooling around, senior sister," he said softly. "Get up."

That's what he said, but he didn't move an inch. Yichun clutched his collar, feeling sweaty and uncomfortable from the pressure.

"Get up first!" she called out.

He thought for a moment and said, "Okay, I'll get up."

After he finished speaking, he gently cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

The moonlight was so beautiful; his long eyelashes seemed to be coated with a layer of silver-white, and they were very close, trembling slightly.

This is wrong, it's not good, you shouldn't do it this way. Yichun changed her action of grabbing her clothes to pushing, pushing hard.

His long eyelashes curled up, his gaze, gentle as water, fixed on her. Then—he opened his mouth and gently bit her lip.

It didn't hurt; instead, it felt numb, as if he had planted a tiny aphrodisiac in her, and she suddenly went limp.

The awkward licking, sucking, and lingering kisses were intense. His breath was surprisingly hot, rough, and heavy. Yi Chun felt a chill run down her spine, as if something had slipped from her grasp and was hurtling wildly in a direction she had never imagined.

His hands were very gentle as he cupped her face, stroking it upwards again and again, brushing her slightly messy hair back.

Finally, he pulled away from her lips, raised his body slightly, and looked at her carefully.

“...You look beautiful with your forehead showing,” he said.

Yichun was stunned, completely stunned, and blankly replied, "Really?"

Yang Shen smiled and nodded: "Of course I won't lie to you."

So she pressed her forehead, seemingly lost in thought, and stared blankly at him.

Yang Shen said in a low voice, "Yichun, why don't we leave? Forget about Jianlan Manor, forget about Zhanchun Sword, let's leave everything behind and just the two of us go out and explore the world, find some fun things to do."

She was so bewitched that she almost agreed.

"If I didn't have a blood feud, and my parents and older brother were still alive, I would definitely take you to see them right away. My mother is cheerful and outgoing, she would definitely like you. My father is a bit dull, but he's an honest man. My older brother is very mischievous, and he would definitely show you off his many pots and pans... Oh, and you love chicken, and my mother's braised chicken is the best. The neighborhood kids often bring their bowls over to mooch a bite. After dinner, my father would take you to the backyard to practice swordsmanship, and my older brother and I would just watch from the side..."

He didn't continue, and his once blissful expression turned sorrowful.

“I have to get my revenge,” he said. “I’ll go get my revenge first.”

He pulled Yichun up from the ground, patted the dust off her clothes, and said softly, "It's getting late, go to sleep. As you wish, stay here with Shujun for a while. Don't go back to Jianlan Manor yet. I think Mo Yunqing's expression was strange, and it might not be true. We shouldn't rush into danger."

Seeing him turn and walk a few steps, Yichun couldn't help but call out, "Sheep kidney."

He turned around: "Hmm?"

Are you... still angry?

“I wasn’t angry at all.” He blinked, his expression a little strange. “It’s just that this area feels uncomfortable.” He pointed to his chest.

What's the difference? Yichun scratched her head, her mind still a mess, and her reactions were a few beats slower than usual.

"I won't tell you, you can guess." This time he really left.

Yichun returned to her room, where her blurry figure was reflected in the bronze mirror on the wall, only her eyes were bright, extremely bright.

"What did I do?" she asked herself blankly.

He was her junior brother, always like a younger brother to her, but what did she do? Once was fine, but he was upset and throwing a tantrum, his emotions were unstable, and afterwards they both acted as if nothing had happened.

But what about today?

She couldn't think about it anymore; she felt like she was on fire, and her palms were sweating profusely.

Of course she's not stupid; if she still doesn't understand at this point, she's doomed.

But when did it start? He kept calling her "Senior Sister," making her genuinely believe she was his older sister. And because she pitied his tragic past, she couldn't help but treat him better. Could it be that because she was too kind to him, he misunderstood?

She needs to explain to him clearly that she... she doesn't have those feelings for him. She absolutely cannot continue down this wrong path, or she will become a sinner.

Yi Chun blew out the candle and pushed open the door to walk towards Yang Shen's room.

"Sheep kidneys." She stood at the door and called softly, suddenly feeling a little scared and wanting to run back, hoping he hadn't heard her call.

The door opened quickly. Yang Shen was still awake and seemed to be washing his face, holding a towel in his hand.

"Is something wrong?" He seemed a little surprised that she had come so late.

Yichun took a breath, mustered her courage, looked up into his eyes, and said in a low voice, "Um... I have something... I need to tell you."

Yang Shen smiled and stepped aside, saying, "Come in."

She felt the hairs on her body stand on end, and the sound of the door closing almost made her legs go weak.

His clothes lay on the bed, washed clean and neatly arranged at the head of the bed; they must be the clothes he would change into tomorrow. His sword was on the table, its hilt worn smooth and shiny from frequent handling. Beside it was a cup of leftover tea, probably just drunk from, a tea leaf clinging to the rim.

Yichun felt terrified and didn't even understand what she was afraid of.