A Straight Wife Fallen from the Sky - Chapter 6

Mu Jiahui panicked instantly.

Setting aside the fact that she was nominally living off Sang Zhancheng’s charity right now, anyone would find it impossible to remain calm seeing a living person suddenly fall this ill.

She helped Sang Zhancheng up.

“Sang Zhancheng? Wake up. What’s wrong? Do you have a fever?” Mu Jiahui practically lifted and carried Sang Zhancheng to the sofa.

She touched Sang Zhancheng’s forehead. The temperature was so low it felt piercing, creating a momentary sensation of burning before Mu Jiahui realized the other woman’s body temperature was dangerously low.

This was not a temperature a human should have.

Furthermore, the tail and wings that Sang Zhancheng could no longer control and which had popped out served as a reminder to Mu Jiahui that she was definitely not human.

Mu Jiahui could no longer apply her common sense to her.

Mu Jiahui vaguely remembered Sang Zhancheng mentioning at the Security Bureau that her race was “Succubus.”

Though she didn’t know which specific characters were used for the name, she decided to flip through the handbook first.

Mu Jiahui quickly began consulting the manual.

If she belonged to a race with a naturally high affinity for magic factors, she would have noticed something was wrong with Sang Zhancheng as early as this afternoon.

Unfortunately, she was a human.

The human physiological structure was a miraculous thing.

They lacked the circuit structures necessary to exert magic, yet they could store massive amounts of mana—almost without a limit. This made them highly favored by races like succubus who required “mana replenishment.”

Sang Zhancheng panted. The mana in her body was nearly depleted, and she was almost unable to sustain her life.

The first day of her adulthood hadn’t even passed—there was still over an hour left—yet her mana had run out prematurely.

It was also Sang Zhancheng’s fault for not taking the matter seriously enough; she hadn’t expected the reaction to be so violent.

That feeling of powerlessness was almost instantaneous, turning her from head to toe into something soft and limp, while her brain lost control over her limbs.

The little succubus, having just reached adulthood, finally tasted fear and decided she wouldn’t dare do this again.

In the future, she would definitely replenish her mana early. She couldn’t allow herself to fall into this state again.

She didn’t want to go see a necromancer just yet.

“Mu… Mu…” Sang Zhancheng’s lips moved as she forced herself to speak.

“What’s happening? Tell me quickly, is there anything I can do?” Mu Jiahui was still frantically searching the manual.

There were too many races in this world, and the handbook had no search bar, so she had to rely entirely on flipping through the pages.

“Mouth… kissing, body fluids…” Sang Zhancheng’s biggest miscalculation was choosing a human who had just transmigrated.

Mu Jiahui didn’t even have a superficial understanding of the characteristics of the succubus race; she had no idea what Sang Zhancheng needed right now.

Mu Jiahui thought the girl was delirious from illness. Seeing her so eager to do “that sort of thing” between partners, Mu Jiahui was actually moved to angry laughter.

“You’re this sick, yet you still want to get intimate with me? You’ve got some nerve. Be serious for a moment—do you have any medicine at home?”

To this point, Mu Jiahui still believed Sang Zhancheng had caught a common cold or flu.

Hearing this, Sang Zhancheng nearly fainted right then and there to go have an audience with the necromancer.

This partner of hers had such a wicked tongue! She definitely didn’t want to listen to this person talk anymore!

Perhaps fueled by anger, Sang Zhancheng found strength from somewhere. She braced her body, hooked her arms around Mu Jiahui’s neck, and puckered her lips to press them against the other’s.

Caught off guard by this “deathbed” forceful kiss, Mu Jiahui was stunned into a daze, allowing Sang Zhancheng to have her way.

Mu Jiahui was speechless.

Although she knew that biological urges to reproduce could strengthen when an organism was sick, she hadn’t expected Sang Zhancheng’s urge to be this strong.

Otherwise, how could this powerless succubus have bluffed her way past someone who exercised regularly like herself, forcing the encounter?

Mu Jiahui suppressed the fire in her heart.

She’s a kid, she’s a rich lady… no, wait, she’s a patient. Don’t get angry, don’t get angry.

Mu Jiahui wrapped her arms around Sang Zhancheng’s waist, trying to use cooperation to soothe the brat’s emotions.

It felt very soft.

This was actually Mu Jiahui’s first kiss.

She was still calm enough to evaluate the sensation while waiting for Sang Zhancheng to finish her outburst.

A scent wafted to her nose.

It smelled like peaches mixed with gardenia; it was a bit too sweet, and sniffing it too much felt cloying.

In the next second, Mu Jiahui could no longer remain calm.

A soft yet somewhat resilient foreign object pressed against the seam of her lips, slowly prying the narrow opening apart.

Seeing that this person hadn’t offered any other reaction for a long time, Sang Zhancheng was about to lose her hold.

Her survival instinct drove her to frantically pry at Mu Jiahui’s lips.

She needed mana; she needed her partner’s fluids. Why didn’t Mu Jiahui understand? Why was she just standing there with her lips tightly shut?

Did she really want to wait until she had to go to a necromancer to fish out her soul?

Sang Zhancheng was likely dizzy with rage and had forgotten that no necromancer would ever accept the soul of a succubus.

They were like the Little Mermaid in the fairy tales; they enjoyed long lifespans, but after death, they turned into a cluster of foam or a handful of yellow earth.

No race would take in their souls; on the contrary, everyone would try every possible way to drive their spirits away.

Mu Jiahui felt as though her territory was being invaded.

She wanted to push Sang Zhancheng away, but the other woman was entangled around her like a snake spirit, refusing to leave no matter what.

However, if she let her guard down even slightly, that soft, lingering sensation rushed to her head, and it was unexpectedly quite comfortable.

Their breaths intertwined, and saliva was exchanged following Sang Zhancheng’s movements.

Invisible mana factors surged out of Mu Jiahui’s body, pouring toward the place that needed them.

The mana came on strong. In less than three seconds, the influx made Sang Zhancheng feel a bit overstuffed.

With her survival instinct satisfied, Sang Zhancheng’s strength faded again, and in an instant, Mu Jiahui pinned her down.

This posture was very suitable for taking things a step further.

Even though Sang Zhancheng had recovered her energy, her head was still full of “unspeakable colored waste” (indecent thoughts).

Sang Zhancheng began to feel expectant. Color returned to her earlobes, her body temperature began to rise, and her apricot-shaped eyes widened, staring unblinkingly at Mu Jiahui.

She hadn’t expected to see irritation in those dark eyes.

Sang Zhancheng instantly felt aggrieved.

How could someone almost cause her death and then get angry at her?

Is this really the reaction a partner should have? Had she found a fake partner?

The partner was obviously obtained through a forced transaction; she was as fake as could be.

Mu Jiahui was not only angry at Sang Zhancheng’s lustful behavior while being so ill but also angry at herself for actually finding it somewhat comfortable.

She had nearly been led into the ditch by this little thing.

With the humiliation of “shame turning into anger” and the embarrassment of being taken advantage of pouring into her heart, how could Mu Jiahui possibly give Sang Zhancheng a kind look?

Sang Zhancheng began to sob.

Her crying was completely disorganized, and naturally, she didn’t look particularly pretty while doing it.

In moments of extreme sadness and anger, even a succubus couldn’t worry about looking like a “crying beauty.”

She threw the “sick beauty” tricks her mother had taught her to the back of her mind and wailed loudly, as if Mu Jiahui were some kind of heartless woman. She even waved her hands, pushing Mu Jiahui off her.

Mu Jiahui had originally only intended to give her a piece of her mind.

She hadn’t even said anything yet, but this girl had the nerve to act so aggrieved she started crying—and even gave her a push.

Mu Jiahui was on the verge of having a vein pop on her forehead.

This little thing really needed to be put in her place. Today, she was going to use the attitude she used to discipline slacking subordinates to show her “why the flowers are so red” (give her a harsh lesson).

“You…”

“You…!”

Both spoke at the same time.

Mu Jiahui simply shut her mouth. She wanted to see what kind of “flowery” nonsense this rich lady could come up with.

“Why are you angry? Ugh, I almost died, and you still… cough… If you weren’t going to take the initiative to stick your tongue out, fine, but what are you angry for!” Sang Zhancheng’s accusation was late, but it arrived.

She wiped her tears while glaring at Mu Jiahui several times.

“Do you really not want to be my partner? If you don’t, then fine! Tomorrow—no, right now—I’m going to go get a divorce!”