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She sat on the edge of the bed, using the tip of her shoe to push against Song Wuyun’s shoulder. She refused to let Song Wuyun touch her. With a cold expression, she said, “You know best whose hands you have touched and whose body you have entered.”
Song Wuyun’s body trembled slightly. She took the opportunity to grasp the woman’s ankle, guiding the foot to rest firmly upon her own shoulder. Overwhelmed by the joy of regaining what she had lost, she gazed obsessively at Li Ningjun.
“I have always belonged only to you,” she whispered. “From the very beginning until the end, that has never changed.”
Seven years ago, having just turned eighteen, Li Sangyue was swept away by the heat of her first estrus cycle. She stumbled into an embrace that smelled of a light, elegant floral fragrance.
The pheromones of that night were intertwined, scorching, and blurred. She only remembered those pale, slender hands with distinct knuckles and that voice, as melodious as a zither, whispering, “Give it to me.”
When she woke up, the room was empty. All that remained was a stinging pain on the gland at the back of her neck.
She did not know who had marked her. She scrambled into her clothes and fled the room, which was still heavy with that unique floral scent. The chaotic memories of that night became a past she dared not investigate.
One-Line Summary: A beautiful woman is difficult to pursue.
Theme: Self-reliance and strength.
