After a Fake Death, the Emotionless Dao Senior Sister Became Obsessed - Chapter 73.1

Chu Zhao covered the woman’s eyes, not allowing her to look.

Her voice was choked and fragmented, “Bad Si Jing, lying fish… didn’t we agree to drink Qiongjiang together?”

Si Jing held her wrist, revealing a pair of peach blossom eyes, and coaxed softly, “Is Zhaozhao very eager?”

She stretched out her long arm and fetched a pot of honey Qiongjiang.

Embracing the girl’s trembling body, she slowly and deliberately raised her hand, tilting the jug to pour the cool and mellow wine.

The crystal-like, snow-white skin was sprinkled with drops of liquid. Si Jing’s fingertip traced over it, her thumb rubbing, and then she bent down.

Chu Zhao let out a low moan from the cold. The instant the sweet aroma of the Qiongjiang drifted over, she was once again assailed by wetness.

Cold mixed with heat. She shook her head in shame, “That’s not how you drink it, woo…”

Was the beautiful sword cultivator a fool?

The sound of sipping hovered beside her ear. In the midst of her chaotic thoughts, the woman lifted her chin, her delicate lips stained with wine, and covered hers.

The honey Qiongjiang that Si Jing poured was sweeter than that of the drunken man in the green robe.

Chu Zhao, caught in the double assault, took a whiff of the wine and felt a little drunk again.

She couldn’t worry about her current predicament. Licking the sweetness from the woman’s lips, she vaguely recalled what she had been taught before, and took the other person’s lip between hers.

She used a little force to push the frail, slender person onto the couch.

Now it was her turn to bully the bride!

But Chu Zhao underestimated the intoxicating power of the honey Qiongjiang. Her vision was blurry and swaying, as if she was sinking into Si Jing’s swamp-like embrace.

She clearly occupied the dominant position, but for some unknown reason, the one stripped of her wedding dress and in a pathetic state was still her.

The red candle flickered brightly, almost scorching her eyes. She wanted to bite in annoyance, but her body was soft and weak, and she couldn’t exert any force.

When she opened her mouth, a slender, jade-like finger bone invaded it, and she could only utter inarticulate whimpers.

Si Jing was outwardly submissive, letting her sit on her lap and straddle her waist, yet she fanned the flames and dominated everything.

In the pauses between intimacy, she would gently ask if she was tired.

Chu Zhao couldn’t clearly remember what happened after that.

She could only vaguely feel the woman drinking the wine from every inch of her body.

Finally, she murmured softly, “Zhaozhao… don’t get drunk again.”

Si Jing kissed Chu Zhao’s flushed eyelids.

She held the person tightly in her arms until there was not a single gap, feeling the little fish’s occasional shivers after her exhaustion, a look of satiation on her face.

Zhaozhao, when drunk, was soft and obedient, but only she was allowed to see it.

She would not allow her little fish to throw herself into the arms of others while drunk.

When Chu Zhao woke up the next day, her body was sore and aching.

She felt wronged, thinking she would never marry anyone else again. She vaguely reached out beside her.

When she didn’t touch a cold body, she secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

She quietly lifted the curtain and peeked out, immediately biting her lip.

Si Jing’s waist was outlined by a white sash, appearing frail and easily breakable. She had already changed out of her wedding dress into her usual snow-white robe and had awakened at some unknown time.

She was currently facing away from her, rubbing a small jade porcelain jar in her palm.

Without turning to look at her, she suddenly spoke in a gentle, low voice, “Zhaozhao?”

The sound of the jade porcelain jar being put down was very soft, but it inexplicably sent a chill down Chu Zhao’s spine.

She watched the woman turn around, her peach blossom eyes filled with affection, and a slight curve to her lips.

What was Si Jing playing with in that small porcelain jar?

Did she perhaps want to raise some more little fish fry?

Chu Zhao let out a wronged hum, looking away, suddenly unwilling to look at the beautiful woman in front of her.

Si Jing came closer, tucking her hair behind her ear. Chu Zhao instantly panicked, covering herself with the quilt, afraid of being eaten by the bad sword cultivator again. “I… I don’t want to drink honey Qiongjiang anymore.”

She had already been changed into clean underclothes, and it seemed someone had meticulously washed her whole body, but she still had the illusion of Qiongjiang flowing over her.

Si Jing smiled, her eyes curving.

Leaning in, she kissed the corner of the little fish’s lips as she turned her head away in protest. “But, Zhaozhao seems to be angry?”

“We are already married, we are Dao Companions. Could Zhaozhao tell Yingzhi why?”

Chu Zhao shook her head, “No way.”

Although she didn’t understand what ‘Dao Companion’ meant, she had been read by the bad Mushroom Venerable before. If she told Si Jing, Si Jing would definitely bully her too.

“Let me guess.” Si Jing rested her chin on her shoulder. “Zhaozhao is thinking that the bad sword cultivator wants to raise other little fish again, right?”

Chu Zhao’s body stiffened.

She rubbed her eyes and quietly replied, “I, I wasn’t thinking that! If you want to raise them… then go ahead.”

“But I am already married,” the woman kissed her ear.

“There is only one Dao Companion, and she is the cutest little fish I have ever met.”

Half of Chu Zhao’s neck felt warm. She feigned embarrassment and anger, covering Si Jing’s lips. “It’s a fish-dragon, a fish-dragon!”

Did her dignified young master of the Fish-Dragon clan have no dignity?

She awkwardly pulled away from the woman’s embrace and tossed the small jade porcelain jar on the table into her storage ring, out of sight, out of mind.

This way, no other ignorant little fish would be fooled again.

She didn’t notice the woman by the couch lowering her gaze, a trace of pathological crimson flickering in her eyes, silently curling her lips.

After they finished a meal, Si Jing brought Chu Zhao into her arms.

She gently asked her where she wanted to go and play today.

Chu Zhao widened her eyes, “Anywhere?”

Si Jing nodded, her cool and delicate hand stroking the back of Chu Zhao’s hand. “Wherever Zhaozhao goes, Yingzhi will accompany you.”

Chu Zhao was pressed between the soft body and the table, stuck between advancing and retreating, and she felt a strange sense of being restrained.

She felt a little uneasy and avoided the woman’s intimate touch.

Although Si Jing was obedient to her in every way, she had the illusion of being closely watched.

Her gaze wandered. On the table, the pink, tender lotus Si Jing had given her was already somewhat wilted.

Chu Zhao slipped out of the woman’s embrace and stood by the jade cup, trying to use spiritual power to nurture it.

But the more she tried, the more the petals withered.

Si Jing reached out her pale hand from behind and gently touched the pink lotus.

She activated some unknown spell, and instantly, the lotus flower unfurled its tender buds again, as delicate as new.

“If you want to see the lotuses in the pond, how about Zhaozhao comes with Yingzhi to Danyong City?” the woman asked softly.

Chu Zhao shook her head in disappointment, no longer interested.

With the pink lotus flower blooming anew, she suddenly wanted to return to Yaoguang Lake to take a look.

Remembering yesterday’s feast, she tugged at Si Jing’s sleeve. “Why didn’t A-Lang and Beibei come to my wedding ceremony?”

Si Jing trapped her from behind and gently replied, “Perhaps the matters within the Fish-Dragon clan are busy.”

“Zhaozhao went to Yaoguang Lake, didn’t you also not see Lord Huai Lang and Beiyue?”

“But, none of the people I know came,” Chu Zhao lowered her head, twisting her skirt.

“Is Luo Yu’s injury healed now?”

Behind her, Si Jing fell silent.

“Why is Zhaozhao so concerned about Luo Yu?” she gently parted her lips.

Chu Zhao was puzzled and answered, “Because Luo Yu is my friend!”

Si Jing repeated in a low voice, “Friend?”

She smiled silently, her shoulders slightly trembling. “…I see.”

“However, Zhaozhao,” Si Jing’s cool and delicate hand stroked the back of Chu Zhao’s hand, persuasively tempting her. “A so-called friend should not be like Luo Yu.”

“Otherwise, why didn’t she show up yesterday?”

Chu Zhao couldn’t find a retort and lowered her head, thinking for a long time, biting her lip until it was red.

She always felt that Si Jing suddenly became very strange after she mentioned Luo Yu.

“Zhaozhao really likes watching the snow, doesn’t she? Shall we go to Yulu Peak in Central State again?” Si Jing asked softly.

The clear and quiet scene in her dream reappeared before her eyes—a scene of joyful and unrestrained boys and girls—making her yearn for it.

Chu Zhao gently hummed in response, her eyes lighting up, and she nodded happily.

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