Chapter 156: You… How Dare You Be So Presumptuous?

“Nephew Li?”

Senior Wen’s voice drifted from the inner chamber, tinged with mild surprise.

Li Meng pocketed the brass key, bracing himself as he walked toward the partition.

With a beaming smile, he swept the curtains aside and stepped into the bedroom.

Whish!

The moment he entered, a porcelain pillow came flying at his face.

Li Meng’s hand darted out, catching the projectile effortlessly.

“Martial Aunt, surely this nephew hasn’t done anything to anger you?”

His gaze drifted to the bed, where a graceful, curvaceous silhouette sat cross-legged. Even in the dim light, her allure was suffocating.

A faint, knowing smile played on Li Meng’s lips.

It really was Wen Huanhuan.

Clutching the pillow to his chest, Li Meng sauntered toward the bed.

Wen Huanhuan glared at him, her beautiful eyes widening in a mix of shock and bravado.

“Halt! If you take another step, I… I will beat you to death!”

Li Meng didn’t even pause.

Her threat lacked teeth. There was no killing intent behind those words.

In the past, when Wen Huanhuan said she wanted to kill someone, the air would freeze. Her eyes would look like abysses.

Now? She looked like a cornered kitten baring its claws.

Ignoring her murderous glare, Li Meng sat casually on the edge of the bed.

He stuffed the pillow back into her arms.

“The moment I stepped into the inn, I caught a whiff of your unique fragrance. A quick word with the waiter confirmed it was you,” Li Meng said, his voice dropping to a teasing purr. “Martial Aunt, the Western Region Desert is vast, yet we still managed to cross paths. It seems our fate runs deep, doesn’t it?”

A flush of crimson spread across Wen Huanhuan’s cheeks.

Recognizing a person by their scent?

What kind of shameless flirtation was this guy spouting?

Wen Huanhuan hugged the pillow tightly and threw herself back onto the mattress. She rolled over, turning her back to him to hide the flustered heat rising in her chest.

“You… get out! If my husband finds out, you… you’d better watch out for your life!”

Li Meng narrowed his eyes, tracing the intoxicating curve of her waist through the silk of her robes.

She truly was a voluptuous, dangerous woman.

“Martial Aunt, you must be exhausted from traveling all day,” he murmured. “Let this nephew massage your feet.”

Before she could protest, Li Meng reached out and captured one of her jade-like feet.

It was exquisite—skin as white as porcelain, smooth as satin, and cool to the touch.

Wen Huanhuan’s body gave a violent tremble.

She buried her face in the pillow, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the fabric.

That… that scoundrel!

She was a late-stage Golden Core cultivator. She flew everywhere; she hadn’t “walked” enough to be tired in a century!

It was clearly just a clumsy excuse to touch her. To take liberties.

But…

Gods, it feels good.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Li Meng cradled her foot in his lap. His thumbs worked into the arch and ankle with practiced, rhythmic pressure.

“You… you are too presumptuous!”

Wen Huanhuan’s voice trembled, betraying her resolve. Her foot gave a half-hearted kick, a struggle that looked more like an invitation.

Emboldened, Li Meng pulled her leg further onto his lap, his hands gliding up to knead her calf.

“Presumptuous? Never. Your nephew simply wants his Martial Aunt to relax.”

Li Meng grinned as he watched her rigid back.

With a sudden, firm twist of her calf, he manipulated her body mechanics.

“Ah!”

Wen Huanhuan gasped as the motion flipped her voluptuous body over.

“What are you doing?!”

She glared up at him, her face a mask of shame and indignation.

The movement had caused her skirt to ride up, revealing a breathtaking expanse of snowy white skin. Her long, shapely legs were now partially exposed—a tantalizing sight, like a masterpiece half-hidden behind a pipa, urging the viewer to see more.

Panic and embarrassment flared in her eyes. She lashed out, kicking Li Meng square in the chest.

Thump!

Li Meng tumbled off the bed, rolling onto the floor.

“You… get out! Get out right now!”

Wen Huanhuan sat up, clutching her disheveled robes, her chest heaving with rage.

Li Meng chuckled, scrambling to his feet with the agility of a monkey. He dusted off his robes as if nothing had happened.

Then, with a grin that could charm the devil, he sat right back down on the edge of the bed.

“Martial Aunt, the inn is fully booked,” he lied smoothly. “Let’s just squeeze in together, shall we?”

Whether the inn was actually full was irrelevant. Li Meng didn’t care.

He just wanted to be here.

Seeing his utter lack of shame, a flicker of shyness warred with the anger in Wen Huanhuan’s eyes.

Squeeze in?

Does he want to sleep in the same bed?

How… how dare he say something so taboo? So presumptuous?

If it weren’t for the Longevity Pill… if she didn’t need him so desperately…

She would have… she would have…

“You… you’re dreaming!”

Wen Huanhuan glared at him one last time, then flopped back down.

Out of sight, out of mind.

She turned her back to him again, curling up on her side.

Hidden from his view, her face burned hotter than a furnace.

His courage is too big. He treats the hierarchy like it doesn’t exist.

She didn’t know how to handle him anymore. Hit him? What if she damaged the hands that refined her pills? Scold him? His face was thicker than the city walls.

Seeing her acquiesce, Li Meng let out a low chuckle.

He flicked his sleeve.

Phwt.

The oil lamp extinguished, plunging the room into darkness.

Li Meng stood up and stripped off his outer robes.

With fluid, practiced movements, he climbed onto the bed and lowered the privacy curtains.

He lay down beside her.

Then, with the boldness of a thief, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her soft, fragrant body back against his chest.

He felt Wen Huanhuan stiffen like a board.

“Do you really think I won’t kill you?”

Her voice cut through the darkness, cold and sharp.

Li Meng only held her tighter. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her hair.

“Kill me tomorrow,” he mumbled against her skin. “Right now, your nephew just wants to hold his Martial Aunt and sleep. I’m tired.”

Feeling the solid warmth of his chest against her back, Wen Huanhuan’s resistance faltered.

Her face flushed in the dark.

Her expression shifted through a kaleidoscope of emotions—shame, anger, and a strange, helpless melancholy.

She could feel the erratic flow of his qi. He was hurt.

As a Golden Core cultivator, she could sense the instability in his breath. The battle earlier must have taken a toll.

Wen Huanhuan raised her slender, jade-like hand, intending to push him away.

She hesitated. Lowered it. Raised it again.

Finally, gently, she placed her palm over the back of Li Meng’s hand resting on her stomach.

Damnable Five Spirit Roots waste physique!

She had intended to funnel some of her Yin energy into him to heal his internal injuries.

But Li Meng’s body was like a fortress of iron. His constitution was so dense, so fundamentally trash in terms of spiritual conductivity, that her Yin energy couldn’t penetrate or resonate with his Yang energy at all.

Frustrated, she withdrew her hand.

She sighed softly, staring blankly at the moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Outside, the Great Yin Star hung full and bright in the sky.

Time trickled by.

The night deepened, wrapping the Black Mountain Stronghold in a desolate silence.

The Next Morning.

Li Meng opened his eyes as the first light of dawn crept into the room.

Instinctively, he reached out to the space beside him.

Cold sheets.

Wen Huanhuan was gone.

“Well, my life is still intact,” Li Meng muttered, grinning to himself.

He sat up, stretching leisurely, and swung his legs off the bed.

Where was his robe?

He glanced at the foot of the bed where he had carelessly tossed it the night before.

It wasn’t there.

He looked over at the clothes rack. The white Daoist robe was hanging there, smoothed out and neat.

Li Meng walked over and slipped it on.

“Although Martial Aunt Wen is a bit crazy… she has the Potential to be a virtuous wife and loving mother.”

He nodded, a slightly lecherous smile touching his lips.

“That contrast… it’s not bad. Not bad at all.”

A woman needed a little contradiction to be truly captivating.

Standing by the bed, Li Meng twitched his nose.

The air was thick with her scent. She hadn’t fled in the middle of the night; she had stayed until just before dawn.

Li Meng stretched again, his joints popping satisfyingly.

He walked out of the room with a spring in his step.

He hadn’t expected to run into Wen Huanhuan and Han Li here. In the past, he would have fled instantly to avoid the awkwardness—and the danger.

But now?

Things were completely different.