[To Become a River of Stars] Dong Xiange - Chapter 32 [Slightly H]

While Shiliu was indulging in vivid fantasies of cruelly tormenting Li Xuanci, he was busy flipping through the stack of erotic books.

The waiter had been quite diligent in catering to her tastes; the collection he’d gathered consisted of premium works—sensual yet not outright vulgar. Beyond the conventional fare, there were stories of men connecting heart-to-heart, and tales of wives and concubines leaving their husbands to be with each other.

Remembering Shiliu’s foolish expression, Li Xuanci snorted coldly. For all her self-proclaimed cleverness, she had been fooled by a mere waiter and still didn’t realize it. What a clueless, trouble-stirring idiot who cared for nothing but her own whims.

Eat, eat, eat. All she thinks about is eating. One of these days, I’ll sew that mouth of hers shut.

If he caught her with something like this again, he would definitely hang her up and drain her blood.

Li Xuanci didn’t know where this inexplicable anger came from. He only knew he was furious, without considering whether his rage was justified, and instead took it all out on the unfortunate Shiliu.

This resulted in Shiliu being so upset that evening that she ate one less bowl of rice.

Thump, thump, thump.

The moss on the cobblestone path was coated with a thin dew at night. The watchman’s straw raincoat was damp with mist as he carefully made his way through the alley, occasionally striking the bamboo clapper hanging at his side.

It was already the third watch.

The heavy sound of the night watch leaked faintly through the cracks in the window but failed to rouse the person nestled within the layers of bed curtains. The room was utterly silent, save for the sound of breathing.

Through the hazy layers of gauze, Shiliu’s deeply sleeping face was barely visible, her brows slightly furrowed as if troubled even in her dreams.

In her dream, Shiliu had been stripped bare, like a lamb awaiting slaughter. Cleaned and hung mid-air, she was ready to be devoured.

A cloth gagged her mouth. She struggled, making muffled sounds, but the bindings were tight, and she couldn’t spit it out. Instead, her saliva was slowly soaking through the fabric.

Her tongue pressed against the cloth, creating a slight bulge. Through the damp, semi-transparent thin fabric, the faint color of her tongue was visible—a hazy, pale red spreading like the lightest blush.

Her struggles only served to drench her further in a sense of looming desire.

Shiliu’s eyes were wide, her long eyelashes trembling as she stared down in panic at the person beneath her.

She was completely n@ked, suspended in the air. Her bare skin was exposed to the cool night, and her pale, tender bre*sts were barely an inch from the other person’s tall, straight nose tip.

They were pressed within an extremely narrow space, impossibly close to each other. Shiliu was hung above, while the other person was bound below. Their skin brushed faintly, separating again with her struggles.

His face, illuminated by the dim, flickering light in the distance, took on a fragile beauty, like the thinnest porcelain, afraid it might shatter at a touch.

His eyebrows were thick, ink-black, every curve perfectly shaped until they reached the center, where they were interrupted by a horizontal strip of cloth that blindfolded his exceptionally beautiful eyes.

Shiliu knew how beautiful those eyes were because she recognized this person.

Li Xuanci.

She struggled with muffled cries, but it was futile, only making the corners of her mouth glisten with saliva. Worse, her bre*sts dangerously threatened to brush against the tip of Li Xuanci’s nose beneath his blindfold.

Shiliu instinctively felt a wave of shame. Her spine arched backward, squeezing every joint as she tried to curl her body upward.

Her soft, pale bre*sts trembled slightly, softer and more tender than freshly steamed milk curd, yet they ultimately brushed against the very tip of Li Xuanci’s nose.

“Who’s there?”

His voice was hoarse as he spoke, his exhaled breath washing over the small, delicate tips of Shiliu’s bre*sts. The little buds immediately began to quiver, turning a faint pink on their own.

A tingling sensation.

It was as if someone had taken the finest needle and lightly traced it across her are*las—a fine, dense, inescapable feeling. The capillaries beneath her bare skin seemed to moan, though it was unclear whether it was from longing or torment.

Shiliu’s ears burned, flushing red instantly.

But as if her embarrassment wasn’t enough, her ni*ples slowly hardened into tender, budding beans, disregarding their owner’s will and surrendering themselves to desire.

They teased and brushed against the bridge of his upturned nose.

It was like a lewd and wanton dance, his breath enveloping the tender tips of her bre*sts.

The sharp tip of his nose pressed into the soft, plump are*la, nudging the budding bean back, his breath muffled within the overflowing flesh, secretly spreading the lingering essence of desire.

Shiliu struggled desperately to escape, to avoid the thrilling sensation that made her lower back go weak and numb, but her efforts only made her bre*sts sway more wantonly.

Her bre*sts weren’t large—they were small, tender, and as pale as newly sprouted bamboo shoots.

But the way she was suspended made them gently pull into small mounds. The more she struggled, the more they swayed, rolling across his face, brushing over the bridge of his nose, grinding against the blindfold, and even the thick eyebrows seemed to faintly graze the soft flesh above.

“Have you lost your mind?”

This time, the anger in his voice was unmistakable, like a fiercely burning flame ready to incinerate everything, leaving not even ashes behind.

But just then, the rope binding Shiliu suddenly loosened, and she dropped sharply downward. The bre*st that had been teased by his breath for so long fell perfectly into his slightly parted lips.

A mouthful of warmth.

An uncontrollable wetness seeped from her core, and no matter how hard Shiliu tried to clench, she could no longer hold it back.

In the other room, everything was quiet. On the bed, Li Xuanci was sleeping deeply.

He sank into a dream, and when he opened his eyes again, he found he could see nothing—only a haze. A thin, soft cloth was tied over his eyes, and he could faintly see light filtering in from afar.

He was bound tightly, and the space was extremely narrow, forcing him to stand upright with difficulty.

In the distance, a flickering light cast a hazy, suspended shadow.

It was the silhouette of a girl—just a slender figure with a pitiable curve, silhouetted by the light, outlining an almost beautiful arc.

A familiar scent drifted over—a hint of sandalwood mixed with something sweet. Strangely, it didn’t trigger his usual aversion to the smell of cosmetics but felt vaguely familiar.

Then, something soft and pointed seemed to brush against the tip of his nose—a little itchy, a little numb.

The sensation was so unfamiliar. He had killed people, slain demons, and been drenched in blood, yet he couldn’t identify what the small, tender tip brushing against his breath was.

Li Xuanci blurted out, asking who was there, and only upon hearing it did he realize his voice was already half-hoarse. His breath washed over something, mingling with an ambiguous heat that bounced back to him.

The person suspended above him seemed to panic, struggling with muffled cries, but it only made things more absurd.

Soft, pale flesh rolled against his cheeks, the tip of his nose pressing into the boneless fullness, grinding and pressing, teasing him with its proximity.

Using tender tips, silky and resilient are*las, and flesh so soft it seemed to melt, she teased him, ensnared him.

And yet, she had the nerve to whimper, trembling as she struggled, her bre*sts wantonly tormenting him, making him angry, igniting an uncontrollable fire that burned upward from his dantian.

The fire burned so fiercely that Li Xuanci’s bones ached. He couldn’t help but snap, “Have you lost your mind?”

But in the next moment, his lips enclosed a cherry-like bud, as if it would melt in the heat of his mouth.