Yun Rao was completely stunned. An Zi Yuan’s kiss had come both unexpectedly and fiercely, and to her, it was profoundly震撼. Such a graceful, ethereal man—always like a celestial immortal from beyond the ninth heaven, pure and untouched by earthly dust—had suddenly shed that lofty, unapproachable sanctity, embracing her with such intimate gestures, as though he were a common mortal. Her stillness seemed to slightly annoy him; he gently bit at her lips, urging her to feel the pain and regain her composure, turning to look at her. Staring into those deep, ink-black eyes, she saw a version of him unlike any she had ever witnessed—so dark and profound, as if a fierce beast were coiled within, ready to consume her entirely—yet the pulsing flame of desire burning within him was so intense and vibrant that she could not move. That overwhelming, deep-seated longing made her instinctively want to retreat. She pressed her hands against his solid chest, but he didn’t give her the chance to escape. With a strong grip, he took her hands, turned them around, and pinned them behind her, pressing her waist firmly against his damp, warm chest. That close contact, she could almost feel the tense, strong texture of him—warm, powerful. His palm pressed firmly against the back of her skull, pressing her tightly against the edge of the bathtub. With a slight shift of his body, he secured her there. His lips and tongue entered deeply into her slightly parted, red lips, strong and dominant. His soft tongue moved assertively within her mouth, and she tasted his flavor—completely foreign, yet not unpleasant, merely unfamiliar. This unfamiliarity made her still want to escape. Yet he held her head firmly, sucking and intertwining with her tongue, deepening the kiss continuously. Even the steady hand supporting her waist grew restless with each deepening of the kiss. Even as her consciousness drifted, she could faintly sense the belt loosening, a warm hand cupping a stream of warm water and gliding it into her garments, deftly brushing aside layer after layer of fabric until a damp, warm palm rested on her left side, firmly kneading it, its fingertips gently scraping the sensitive tip, sending a deep, resonant tremor through her. Her body remained taut, her bent legs unconsciously drawing tight as well, unused to such intimate contact—especially with only two of them crammed into the narrow tub, her seated on his thighs, fully aware of the unfamiliar warmth pressing against her. Though she was still dazed, a natural shyness stirred within her. The water splashed wildly from the intensity of their movements, and he drew her completely into his arms, pressing her firmly, claiming her lips with strong determination—kissing from her lips down to her jaw, lingering on the sensitive neck, gently nibbling and sipping. The entirely unfamiliar warmth made Yun Rao instinctively lift her head, her cascade of green hair drifting through the water, her rosy cheeks glistening with a damp, sensual sheen—innocent yet utterly captivating. An Zi yuan's movements suddenly grew fierce and urgent; his lips and teeth firmly bit into her neck, while his hands urgently tore at her wet garments. The completely foreign sensation almost consumed all of her awareness, leaving her consciousness bewildered and unfamiliar. When his fingertip accidentally brushed the wound on her left breast, the still-healing injury rekindled a sharp pain under the gentle warmth of the water. The familiar ache brought her suddenly to clarity, as if breaking through that veil of mist—she pushed him urgently, her hands and feet flustered. Her own disorientation also brought a sense of clarity to the bewildered and enchanted An Zi yuan, calming the deep ink in his gaze. He took a deep breath, striving to calm the turmoil within, lifting his hand to help her adjust her clothes. As his fingertips just brushed against her fabric, she instinctively drew back, still breathing lightly, her exquisite face glistening with a damp, sensual sheen, and radiating a touch of uncontainable wonder. Such her presence made him nearly lose control once again. "I'll help you settle your clothes," he said, suppressing the stirring in his heart, his gaze soft and steady. His voice, usually clear, carried an unusual huskiness. Yun Rao held onto her garments, hesitating to look at him, yet unwilling to let go. An Ziyuan gently pressed his lips together, "I'm sorry—I may have disturbed you." Yun Rao glanced at him, her jade-like face now only slightly tinged with the lingering glow, and her well-built body still glistening with droplets of water—otherwise, she appeared as always, a celestial beauty. "I... I can do it myself." She stammered, trying to gather her dress, her hands trembling as she fumbled to button it—whether from sheer nervousness or the cold weather, she couldn’t tell. Her hands shook, yet she couldn’t manage to secure the dress smoothly. A warm, damp pair of hands settled over hers. "It's cold," he said, "I've sent someone to bring you a change of clothes." Cloud Ruo instinctively held back. "No." If anyone knew that she was in his room now, in this state, she would truly have no face to show. He glanced at her, then rose swiftly. Startled, Cloud Ruo closed her eyes and turned her head aside, only hearing the gentle splash of water, then feeling a sudden lightness—by the time she realized it, An Ziyuan had already slipped into his clothes and bent down to lift her from the water. The sudden imbalance caused her to instinctively turn and wrap her arms around his neck. When she regained her composure, her cheeks flushed, and she glanced at him with a touch of embarrassment. Yet An Ziyuan seemed entirely unaware, simply carrying her toward the large bed. His breath was warm and a bit hurried, misting against the side of her neck, making her even more hesitant to lift her eyes. It wasn't until he settled her onto the bed that the warmth vanished, leaving a coldness that surged from all around—no matter how thick her clothes, she grew damp and chilled, even in the coldest season. At that moment, her hair and shoes were wet, her entire body as if frozen in an ice cellar, trembling with cold. Suddenly, a wave of warmth washed over her. She lifted her gaze and saw him channeling his internal energy to warm her. The warmth gradually dispelled the chill. He rose, turned, and fetched a set of his own clothes. "Change into these first," he said. Yun Rao looked at the garments and recalled how, even when they wrapped his body, she had never dared to wear them herself. "I'll go back to my room and change into my own later," she murmured, pushing the clothes aside. "Are you really going to have to help me change myself?" he asked, his tone calm. Then, suddenly, he bent down, his hands already reaching to unbutton her clothes. Yun Rao was so startled that she quickly reached for her clothes, "I'll change now... you just turn around." An Zi yuan turned around, but Yun Rao still felt uneasy. "You'd better go outside." "I'm not at all uncomfortable changing you right now." With that calm, clear tone, Yun Rao found herself silent, shrinking back onto the bed and drawing the curtain closed, then retreating inside to change. "Yun Rao felt a bit embarrassed, stammering, "No need to apply the medicine now. I'll take care of it myself when I go back later." It was clearly she who had been inconvenienced, yet she couldn't find the strength to stand her ground—she even lacked the courage to look him in the eye. As if trying to hold onto her own dignity, she couldn't quite be as unreserved as before. Indeed, it was only when she truly cherished her own face that she began to value it. Her attempt to rise was gently restrained by his hand, which now held the medicine. "Let's treat it first," he said, his voice still soft and calm, yet subtly firm, compelling her to sit back on the bed. Yun Rao was quietly annoyed, glaring at him. "I can do it myself." His steady gaze swept over her face. "Yun Rao, are you afraid of me?" Of course—how could any young lady remain composed in such a situation? If she were stronger, she would have already given him a sharp slap and walked out with her sleeves flapping. Yet, gazing at that celestial face, she felt entirely unlike herself from earlier—seeming as though she had been possessed all along. "Did you perhaps just get possessed, sir?" her thoughts flowed out without hesitation. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, she realized how awkward it was to bring up this matter. A gentle smile seemed to pass over An Ziyuan's eyes, one that startled her—she had rarely seen him smile like this, so warm and like spring breeze. As she stood still, his hand naturally settled on her shoulder, gently lifting her gown. A coolness washed over her, and only then did she regain her composure. Lowering her gaze, she saw that her entire shoulder was now bare, her snowy skin shimmering under the candlelight with a most alluring glow. Her cheeks flushed again, and she clutched at her gown, trying to pull it up, only to be held back by An Ziyuan's steady grip. "Stay still," he said softly, "I merely want to check if the wound has reopened." His eyes remained fixed on the spot, his expression calm and composed, showing not the slightest hint of intent. Yun Rao still couldn't feel at ease exposing her chest in front of a man when she was fully conscious—especially after that near-miss incident just now. The sense of discomfort gradually intensified as he stared at her chest, and her body began to warm up instinctively. He didn't give her any chance to resist; instead, he gently pulled aside the gauze covering her wound, dipped a cloth in the medicinal solution, and carefully cleaned the injury. A slight, delicate pain caused her to involuntarily shiver. "Just hold on a moment," he murmured, his voice soft. Yet she felt her face grow warm again, pouting slightly. "Don't you think it's someone else's fault?" "I'm truly sorry!" An Ziyuan suddenly whispered, his fingertip lightly applying the ointment with gentle care, his gaze deliberately avoiding any other part of her. "I was indeed rather impolite just now." Her embarrassment at his apology only deepened, so she simply fell silent, tugging at her clothes and glancing at him shyly. Yet he remained focused on applying the dressing, his gaze unwavering, his composed expression utterly still—seeming as if only she were uneasy. "Have you always been accustomed to dressing differently?" Anziyuan asked calmly while skillfully applying the dressing. "Not in the valley. Only outside." Seeing that he seemed uninterested, Yun Rao felt reassured and replied. His hands paused slightly as he looked at her. "Xiao Run has been looking at your face every day... has he not done anything for you?" He left it unspoken, knowing from her earlier reaction that she was entirely unfamiliar with matters of the heart. Yun Rao, however, misunderstood the implication, pouting. "He's not at all like that." Beyond martial arts and his ambitions, how could he have noticed women—let alone Xiao Mengyun, his nominal fiancée, whom he had rarely looked at directly? The warmth in her tone made him slightly furrow his brows. "You and Xiao Run are close, aren't you?" Yun Rao nodded, lowering her gaze, her voice dropping naturally. "Yes. We've grown up together. When I couldn't remember certain things, I once thought he was the best person for me." He had always protected her in the valley, yet it was he who had pushed her into the depths of despair. She understood his reasons—being a guest in someone else's household, she had to obey, yet even with that understanding, she couldn't calmly accept the harm he inflicted upon her. What he had taken from her was not merely her trust in him, but also her health, and even her life. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through the wound, and Yun Rao slightly furrowed her brow, regaining her composure and looking at An Zi yuan with curiosity. But An Zi yuan merely neatly tied the already bandaged gauze and maintained a calm expression, almost emotionless. He smoothed out her clothes, then suddenly lifted her chin with his hand, gazing straight into her eyes. "Yun Rao, do you like Xiao Run?"