Chapter 39: Different Environments, Different Moods

“So beautiful…”

Ye Feng stood by the high-rise window, gazing down at the bustling city shrouded in night lights, his mind overwhelmed with mixed emotions.

Since coming to this world, he hadn’t properly explored its streets or seen what life was like out there. When would this endless cycle of confinement ever end?

He raised a hand to touch his own reflection in the glass. Perhaps it was this very face—this delicate features—that kept drawing trouble straight to him. What would happen if this face was ruined?

He pinched his cheek firmly. Pain shot through his skin; with just a light squeeze, a faint red mark bloomed on his soft cheek, showing no signs of fading quickly.

“What are you doing?”

A sudden voice behind him startled Ye Feng. He turned around to see Murong Fanghua stepping into the room.

“Were you thinking of jumping out the window? Don’t bother,” she said with a smooth chuckle. “The windows here are specially reinforced and can only open a tiny crack—you couldn’t even stick your head out. Besides…”

She paused, looking at him thoughtfully. “This is the sixteenth floor. If you fell, you’d hit the pavement head-first. Your skull would shatter instantly, though your brain might retain consciousness for a fraction of a second. Your eyes might even watch your own body crumple against the concrete before everything turns red, followed by—”

“Alright, stop! Please stop talking!”

Ye Feng quickly held up a hand to cut her off, feeling a wave of nausea hit his stomach as his mind involuntarily visualized the scenario.

Even if he hadn’t actually entertained the thought of jumping, her vivid breakdown completely ruined any desire to stand near the window. He promptly retreated a few steps.

Murong Fanghua closed the distance, extending a hand to pat his back gently in mock comfort.

“Don’t worry. Unless absolutely necessary, I won’t ever let something like that happen to you.”

Ye Feng stared at her, utterly speechlessly. What do you mean ‘unless absolutely necessary’?! You’re straight-up threatening me! This is an absolute, overt threat!

Was he the type of man to bend to a threat? Of course not! He was going to fight back—starting with his trusty tactic: ignoring her existence completely.

Although he had technically just broken his silent strike by speaking to her, that didn’t stop him from reinstating it immediately.

Murong Fanghua watched him puff his cheeks out in silent defiance. Rather than taking offense, she found his subtle, tsundere attempt at rebellion infinitely charming.

Faced with her intense, predatory gaze, Ye Feng felt deeply uncomfortable. Yet he didn’t dare push her buttons too far. If he genuinely enraged her and she lost her composure, he might end up getting taken right then and there—and given his newly unlocked physiological reality, he couldn’t afford to risk a pregnancy!

“Have you showered yet?” she asked softly.

“No…”

Ye Feng froze mid-answer: Wait, why did I reply?!

“Then go take a shower. Once you’re done, we’ll sleep.”

“S-Sleep?!”

The word sent a cold spike of panic straight through his chest. Seeing her casual posture, was she intending to share the same bed tonight? Was he going to be… taken tonight?

While he had already been through that scenario dozens of times with others and was mostly desensitized to the physical act itself, the issue now was that he was capable of conceiving!

“Go on,” Murong Fanghua urged with a slight smile. “I’ll wait here for you. There’s a fresh set of sleepwear inside the bathroom that I selected specifically for you.”

“Uh…”

Seeing his completely flustered, hesitant expression brought a wave of amusement to Murong Fanghua’s heart. Teasing her cute little captive and watching him panic was undeniably satisfying.

“Sigh…”

Ye Feng let out a long, defeated sigh, turning his steps toward the bathroom. What was destined to come would come regardless; running away was no longer an option.

Stepping inside, he stripped away his clothes and stepped under the showerhead. As the warm water trickled across his porcelain skin, relieving his physical fatigue, he involuntarily closed his eyes in comfort.

Click.

The sudden sound of the bathroom door unlocking made his eyes snap open. He turned sharply toward the entrance, catching sight of Murong Fanghua stepping across the threshold.

“You… what are you doing?!”

“Showering, of course. What else?” she replied casually. “I haven’t washed up yet either.”

“You—!”

Ye Feng was so flushed with embarrassment and anger that he lost his train of speech. Seeing that she had zero intention of leaving, he was caught in a brutal dilemma: forcing her out might provoke her into taking him right there, but letting her stay meant she might do it anyway!

“Haven’t put on body wash yet? Let me help you.”

Her voice pulled him back to reality. Turning his head away, he caught a glance of her bare form.

Ye Feng immediately slammed his eyes shut, frantically repeating mantras of mental purity in his head. But even with his eyes shut and ears tuned out, the feeling of her slick fingers smoothing body wash over his skin made his sensitive body react almost immediately.

He quickly used both hands to cover his lower abdomen. This is bad—this is insanely bad! Am I really going to get violated right now?!

No! I don’t want to carry a child—not hers, not anyone’s!

Murong Fanghua didn’t seem to press any aggressive moves, simply washing his skin with careful, gentle precision. It felt remarkably like bathing a delicate kitten, an experience she thoroughly enjoyed.

Yet while she enjoyed the process, Ye Feng was enduring absolute torment. The direct skin-to-skin contact, combined with his hyper-sensitive physical constitution, was far beyond what a normal man could handle. His cheeks were flushed deep red like a ripe apple, and he felt like his composure was about to shatter completely.

Finally, the hands stopped moving. Even so, Ye Feng didn’t dare open his eyes.

Murong Fanghua looked at the trembling young man before her, a knowing smile playing on her lips. In the end, she stepped out of the glass enclosure—both of them needed a moment to cool down.

She certainly desired his body, but as an imperial princess destined to inherit the royal succession, taking him now posed a severe strategic risk: it could lead to an unwanted heir.

And the fate of an illegitimate child born to her would be tragic at best. The absolute best outcome for such an offspring would be an early death; the worst outcomes were far more gruesome. As a prospective monarch, her political calculations came first. She could cherish Ye Feng as a pet or a lover, but she could never allow him to carry a royal bloodline, nor could she ever recognize him as a formal consort.

After a long silence with no further tactile sensations, Ye Feng tentatively opened one eye. Seeing the bathroom completely empty, an odd, unexpected wave of relief—and strange deflation—washed over him.

Shaking his head vigorously to dispel those ridiculous thoughts, he quickly turned the showerhead back on to rinse away the suds and wash his hair.

By the time he changed into the silk pajamas and stepped out into the bedroom, Murong Fanghua was already tucked under the covers, seemingly fast asleep. Biting his lip, he carefully climbed onto the opposite side of the king-sized mattress, keeping as much distance between them as possible.

The night felt exceptionally long, and his mind remained active in the quiet dark.

Perhaps leaving Mu Yuchen wasn’t entirely a bad thing. He was no longer certain if her feelings for him were genuine. Even if she had cared for him once, after witnessing his hypnotized performance and making her cold, decisive exit, whatever affection existed had likely burned to ash.

More importantly, his life back at the villa had been suffocating. Beside Mu Yuchen, he had walked on eggshells every single day, terrified that a single misstep would cost him her favor. Combined with the constant physical coercion, his spirit had been crushed into deep melancholy.

By nature, he was lively, energetic, and expressive. Living in that oppressive environment meant suppressing his core identity every second of the day.

Perhaps adapting to a new environment—even one like this—was a chance to finally breathe.

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