In the Lian Mountains, lies a dormant spirit by the name of Daiyu. A Mountain Deity of renowned power and strength, she met her demise at the hands of love.
Waging war against the mortal realm after their princess dared take her lover away, she is c...
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Under normal circumstances, Lifen would have snatched her hand away and severely admonished the mortal man for daring to touch her—no one was ever allowed to touch her—but she had made an exception out of pure curiosity, wondering if she would feel his inner qi through the skin contact. With thick-skin, she unabashedly interlocked her hand with his large one, feeling a sudden warmth course through her. It did not come from his qi, but from the blood that flowed through him—a natural warmth that brought a familiar sensation, yet made her feel strange and uncomfortable.
Pushing away her thoughts, she focused on his hand, searching for his pulse and any sign of his inner qi force. Her lips pursed with disappointment when she not only did not feel his qi but also felt the smoothness of his palm. Subconsciously, Longwei came to mind. Her brows knitted together, her mind going back to her past life. For such a strong spirit with great prowess in battle, Longwei had soft hands. It was one of a few other faults she had disliked about that dragon, trivial as it was. She sighed; she was never fond of coy males with a soft countenance, preferring those that were rough and hot-blooded by nature.
Zheng Xueyou had ignored the woman's intrusive hold while he gingerly led her towards a small shop up ahead, having relaxed his grasp upon realizing that she had taken initiative and clasped unto him—He presumed she was accepting his aide. It was not until he felt her hand begin to prod and knead his palm and wrist that he glanced down at her. Oddly soothing, he did not make any efforts to pull away from her. A faint smile emerged on his face as he looked at her questioningly.
"May I ask what you're doing?" He asked, his tone was soft, holding a tinge of amusement.
Unaccustomed to feeling embarrassed, she took away her hand, recoiling as if she had burned herself. With an irritated voice, she said: "Your hands are too soft. It was as if I were holding hands with a female." She complained, mostly annoyed that she had held his hand in vain.
His smile faltered, deeply offended by this girl's words. "Is it not a good thing to have soft hands?" He asked, his brows furrowed into a deep crease. Gently, he nudged her towards the shop's entrance, trying to ignore the sudden ache in his ego.
Jiahui could only inwardly cringe as she followed quietly behind the two, observing them in silence.
Young miss is really, too rude and inconsiderate for her own good!
"Hmph. To me, it is certainly not a good thing. It shows that you lack masculinity, and it is only safe to assume you would also be useless when it came to the art of war. Why females find men with hands as soft as silk is beyond my understanding." She said in a snobbish manner, feeling the raised platform against the tip of her foot as she stepped through the store's threshold. With her chin in the air, she brushed passed him and stepped onto the main floor without any help from him.
Zheng Xueyou could only frown, watching the bratty girl walk into the shop with a mixture of conceitedness and grace.
Secretly, he had hoped that she would have tripped while those words escaped those poisonous lips of hers, feeling that such a scenario would have brought her down a couple of notches, but unsurprisingly she walked through with ease, sensing the raised floor without pause.
