Dai Chengfeng halted as well, standing still.
He slowly withdrew his hand, fingertips lightly rubbing together.
"You…"
Zhu Zhuqing finally spoke—but her voice carried a faint hoarseness she hadn't noticed herself. "Dai Chengfeng… you're awful!"
"What did I do?"
Dai Chengfeng looked genuinely surprised, spreading his hands in innocent bewilderment. "That last touch was an accident—you attacked too fast, and I couldn't pull back in time."
"It's sparring," he added reasonably. "Physical contact is bound to happen."
"An accident?"
Zhu Zhuqing's chest heaved again with indignation—the motion making the damp fabric cling even more provocatively to her curves. "Were all those before accidents too?!"
"Which ones before?"
Dai Chengfeng blinked, stepping forward two paces, closing the distance between them.
Zhu Zhuqing was already backed against the ironwood dummy—nowhere left to retreat. She could only glare at him.
"Zhuqing," he said, tone almost teasing, "are you being too sensitive? We're sparring, not dancing. Bumping into each other is perfectly normal, isn't it?"
"Or…"
He drew out the word, eyes sweeping over her flushed face and heaving chest. His voice dropped lower, laced with magnetic, almost hypnotic warmth:
"Do you mind?"
"I…" Zhu Zhuqing faltered.
Did she mind? Of course she did!
That feeling of being touched—so intimate, so unsettling—made her heart race and her skin prickle with unease.
But how could she possibly say that?
Watching her flustered, speechless expression—cheeks burning, eyes blazing with helpless fury—Dai Chengfeng's amusement deepened.
He didn't give her time to find words. Instead, he surged forward again.
"Seems I wasn't focused enough," he murmured, voice low and edged with deliberate pressure. "You still have room in your head for distractions."
"Let's continue."
"This time, I'll be far more… attentive."
Before the last word faded, he was already moving.
This time, his assault changed completely.
No longer relying on evasion and feints, he became aggressive—dominant, relentless.
His strikes opened wide, yet within each broad motion hid countless subtle variations, weaving an invisible net that closed in on Zhu Zhuqing from every angle.
Forced onto the defensive, Zhu Zhuqing channeled all her frustration into raw power.
She fought back with ferocity now—every move sharp, desperate, as if fighting for her life.
They clashed again—but the dynamic had shifted.
Dai Chengfeng no longer feigned "accidental" touches. His attacks grew direct… and brazen.
When executing joint locks, he'd deliberately pull her toward his chest.
When blocking her strikes, his arms would "conveniently" press against the softest parts of her body.
In close grappling, his frame would "inevitably" grind against hers—tight, intimate, inescapable.
Zhu Zhuqing was like a shadow cat trapped in quicksand—claws bared, fangs sharp, yet overwhelmed by his superior experience, control, and the constant, maddening distraction of his nearness.
Her rhythm faltered. Her breath came faster.
Every point of contact sent shivers through her skin, as if her strength drained away with each unfamiliar, tingling sensation.
Finally, in the heat of a fierce exchange, Dai Chengfeng caught the tiniest opening.
In a flash, he seized her attacking wrist, yanked her forward, and swept her legs with surgical precision.
Zhu Zhuqing lost her balance with a startled cry, toppling backward.
Dai Chengfeng followed instantly, one arm snaking around her waist as they fell. He twisted mid-air—
Thud.
They landed hard on the cold, leaf-strewn ground.
But Zhu Zhuqing felt no pain—Dai Chengfeng had twisted at the last moment, taking the brunt of the impact himself, cradling her safely in his arms.
For a heartbeat, she lay atop him.
Then—world spinning—he used his core strength to roll, reversing their positions in one fluid motion.
By the time she registered what happened, she was pinned beneath him.
He didn't crush her with his full weight—his knees and arms bore most of it—but the overwhelming, masculine presence pressing down on her was far more disorienting than any physical burden.
One large hand held both her wrists firmly above her head, pressed into the bed of fallen leaves.
The other arm lay across her collarbone, pinning her in place, leaving her utterly immobilized.
Morning light filtered through the trees, dappling their entwined forms.
Zhu Zhuqing stared up at Dai Chengfeng. Backlit by the sun, his features were shadowed—but his eyes burned with startling clarity.
The mingled scent of sweat from their battle, combined with his unique aura—cool yet fiercely dominant—wrapped around her like a cocoon.
"Yield?"
Dai Chengfeng lowered his head, lips brushing her ear. His voice was rough, hot breath searing her sensitive skin.
Zhu Zhuqing shuddered violently—a jolt of electric heat racing from her spine to her scalp.
She bit her lip, turning her face away from his scorching breath, refusing to speak. Only her eyes—glistening with unshed tears yet blazing with defiance—stared back at him.
"No?"
Dai Chengfeng chuckled softly.
"Then we'll stay like this. Let's see who breaks first."
"You…"
Zhu Zhuqing felt her limbs grow weak under his weight, that strange, terrifying flutter in her chest making her afraid.
And just then—Dai Chengfeng dipped his head.
She sensed the shift in his gaze—her heart leapt into her throat.
The next second, his searing lips crashed down on hers—demanding, unavoidable, claiming her parted mouth with bruising intensity.
"Mmph—!"
The hot, alien sensation on her lips sent her mind reeling into white noise.
And Dai Chengfeng…
He'd only meant to gently punish this little cat who kept swiping her claws at him—tempted by the flush of her lips.
But the moment their mouths met—that soft, cool texture, the sweet-salty scent of her sweat mixed with the delicate fragrance of her youth—sent his control spiraling.
Yet in that very instant, something strange happened.
No—not just strange. Profoundly unusual.
The soul power flowing steadily within him suddenly surged—rushing uncontrollably toward the point where their bodies touched.
Even more bizarre—he clearly felt a stream of cool, swift soul power pouring from Zhu Zhuqing's body, meeting his own at their joined lips, intertwining, circulating.
This wasn't mere leakage. It was… resonance? Attraction?
Dai Chengfeng stilled—but didn't pull away.
Holding their kiss, he focused entirely on the extraordinary flow between them.
Their soul powers were opposites—his blazing, domineering, infused with the killing intent of the Asura God; hers icy, agile, imbued with the shadowy grace of the Nether Spirit Cat.
Yet instead of clashing, they merged like two converging rivers—forming a delicate, harmonious cycle.
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