Chapter 61: Getting Married Soon

Ye Feng’s mind had long surrendered its ability to think rationally, yielding completely to the physical impulses dominating his body.

Even Murong Fanghua found herself overwhelmed by his frantic, unrestrained intensity. Eventually, Ye Feng scrambled directly on top of her, taking the lead himself.

Perhaps having been subjected to her so many times had conditioned his reflexes, or perhaps the submissive secondary personality—having spent an entire month in endless intimacy with Murong Fanghua—had ingrained a profound muscle memory deep into his physical form.

Whatever the cause, Murong Fanghua unexpectedly became the one pinned down and dominated.

Unfortunately, Ye Feng’s physical dominance proved short-lived. After taking a brief breather, Murong Fanghua flipped him over, pinning him back onto the mattress once again.

The intense, chaotic back-and-forth persisted straight into the following morning.

Inevitably, Ye Feng ended up on the losing side. Slumped helplessly over her chest, completely devoid of physical energy, he drifted off into a deep sleep almost instantly.

Murong Fanghua offered a gentle smile, stroking his hair before falling asleep beside him.

In the main hall, Murong Qingning waited fruitlessly for her daughter to attend to state business. Growing impatient, she walked over to the royal bedchamber—only to stumble straight into the absolute ruin left in the wake of their tempestuous night.

Bedding, sheets, and pillows lay torn and scattered in utter disarray across the room.

A vibrant flush rushed to Murong Qingning’s cheeks. She immediately backed out of the room, sternly ordering the guards at the door that no one was permitted inside under any circumstances, before beating a flustered retreat.

Back in the main hall, the vivid imagery refused to leave her mind. Even during her own youth, she had never engaged in such wildly unrestrained indulgence.

Deep down, a strange, subconscious curiosity flared, almost tempting her to go back and steal another glance.

She was, after all, a woman, and such an explicit scene carried no small impact. Her hand even drifted unconsciously toward places it shouldn’t go.

Yet ordinary men held zero appeal for her—except, perhaps, for a select few…

Around noon, Ye Feng and Murong Fanghua gradually stirred awake, still feeling thoroughly exhausted.

Taking in the tangled mess surrounding the bed, Murong Fanghua decided they ought to clean up first.

Lifting Ye Feng into her arms, she carried him straight into the adjoining bathroom. Still groggy and half-asleep, Ye Feng offered no resistance as he was submerged in the warm water.

By the time they finished bathing, his mind had finally cleared, and a deep, embarrassed flush flooded his cheeks at the memory of last night’s madness.

“Hehe, my sweet boy wasn’t very sweet at all last night!” Murong Fanghua teased. “To think you actually dared to ride on top of your Master like that.”

“Don’t… stop talking about it…”

“Hehe, if you don’t want me to talk, what do you want me to do instead?”

She let out a soft laugh, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

Soaking together in the massive marble tub instantly brought back memories of their very first bath together, sending a deeper blush spreading to the tips of Ye Feng’s ears.

Murong Fanghua had no idea what specific memory was playing in his head—nor would she link the bathtub exclusively to that first time, considering the two had engaged in passionate encounters in this very tub dozens of times during the blank month he couldn’t remember.

“I… I’m really tired… can we please…”

“Are you shy now? You certainly didn’t look shy last night!”

“Stop… stop teasing me!”

“Hehe, alright, I won’t say another word!”

Murong Fanghua’s hands grew bolder without warning.

The two engaged in another passionate struggle in the bathwater until Ye Feng was drained of every last ounce of stamina. By the time she carried him back onto a freshly made bed, he collapsed back into sleep almost instantly.

Holding him close, Murong Fanghua closed her eyes and drifted off beside him.

Their dynamic seemed to have magically restored itself to its former, peaceful state. But was it truly the same?

Neither Murong Fanghua nor Ye Feng could say for sure. Both were deliberately choosing to ignore the unresolved trauma between them.

Yet serious fractures never simply vanish through avoidance. All it would take was a single spark to detonate the buried resentment—and when that moment arrived, what would become of Ye Feng, and what would become of Murong Fanghua?

Days slipped by in a quiet rhythm. Every evening, Ye Feng remained in Murong Fanghua’s arms. Gradually, however, the physical intensity of their nights began to taper off.

It wasn’t a loss of desire on either side; rather, Ye Feng’s lower abdomen had grown significantly prominent and firm. Carrying a fully matured pregnancy made intense physical activity entirely unsuitable.

Ye Feng spent his days gently cradling his bump, feeling the subtle movements of the baby within. Yet alongside the warmth, a cold anxiety often gripped his heart.

He eagerly anticipated the birth of his child, yet the imminent, terrifying pain of labor filled him with deep dread—especially since the due date was only days away.

Still, hope outweighed his fear. To his mind, once the child arrived, he would finally gain a sense of security. Even if Murong Fanghua didn’t love him, she would surely cherish her own bloodline.

In a matriarchal world where women valued heirlooms, a father’s status naturally rose with the birth of a child.

Yet a dark shadow hung over his anticipation: Murong Fanghua’s wedding was fast approaching.

Ye Feng was completely at a loss as to how to face this impending reality. Though Murong Fanghua had promised him that she would never touch Guen intimately, a bitter lump remained wedged in his chest.

What frustrated him most was that he couldn’t even pinpoint who he was supposed to be angry with. Was he supposed to resent Guen?

Over the past few months, Guen had visited him constantly, taking care of him with even greater devotion and sincerity than Murong Fanghua herself.

Looking into those innocent, radiant eyes, Ye Feng found it entirely impossible to harbor an ounce of malice. Guen was his genuine, cherished friend.

Ye Feng was not ungrateful. He understood clearly that Guen held no romantic feelings for Murong Fanghua either—yet if Guen failed to marry her, he would face destruction.

A agonizing, painful destruction. Through their conversations, Ye Feng had learned that Guen had been conditioned since childhood solely for the purpose of marrying Murong Fanghua. His entire education, social upbringing, and fundamental worldview were constructed around this single objective.

If he failed to fulfill this preordained role, Guen would lose his entire reason for living, inevitably ending his own life in deep despair.

Ye Feng couldn’t bear to see such a pure, gentle person meet such a tragic end. He doubted anyone with a conscience could stand by and watch it happen.

Yet if he couldn’t blame Guen, he couldn’t bring himself to direct all his rage at Murong Fanghua either—not while he was carrying her child.

In the end, all he could do was desperately hold onto Murong Fanghua’s promise that she would keep her distance from Guen physically.

Murong Fanghua fully intended to honor that promise. Since neither she nor Guen harbored romantic interest in each other, a platonic arrangement suited everyone best—a compromise Guen had willingly agreed to.

Still, a strange sense of unease lingered in Murong Fanghua’s mind. Lately, whenever Guen looked at Ye Feng, she noticed an unsettling warmth in his eyes—a look that uncannily mirrored the way she herself looked at Ye Feng.

That’s impossible, Murong Fanghua reassured herself. She was surely overthinking things; at most, the two were simply close friends.

Inside the Hild family manor, Guen leaned against a high window ledge, gazing peacefully at the landscape outside. It was his favorite pastime, as he could occasionally spot flocks of birds soaring across the open sky.

The sight of birds flying free was the most beautiful thing in the world—reminding him vividly of the genuine smile on Ye Feng’s face. The mere thought of Ye Feng brought an automatic, bright smile to his lips.

Once we get married, I’ll be able to see Ye Feng every single day… I can’t wait!

📚 Also on NHV Novels

Your Highness, I Want to Eat You

BLFantasyTransmigration

Read Now →
Not interested