Chapter 63: Truly Greedy

Su Mian's forehead gently rested on his chest; in her lowered gaze were her soft hairline and slightly reddened earlobes.

He paused a moment, wanting to place his hand, but heard the person in his arms speak awkwardly.

"Don't move."

Gai Yin heard the words and slowly lowered his hand; he knew it was the girl's "reward," a chip to trade for information.

His hand finally hung over the grass; the all‑seeing Gai Yin felt irritated, yet couldn't pinpoint the source of his anger.

He pinched the expressionless yet lively cheek, bringing it slightly closer.

"An embrace won't satisfy me, dear."

He lowered his voice, his breath brushing her lashes, landing on her flesh‑pink lips.

Su Mian stared at him without speaking, her lips pressed together.

Gai Yin understood; though those beautiful eyes held a hint of scorn, there was no resistance, like a proud, bristling kitten, nervously awaiting the kiss.

"So greedy…"

The delicate trailing sound was swallowed between the lips, and the slightly dry thin lips pressed together.

Gai Yin lifted Su Mian's chin, and in that instant the wind tangled her hair, brushing his hand's back.

Her cool, fair cheek instantly flushed, her body softened and heated amid a series of clicking sounds, and she was effortlessly laid down in the Lavender field, the trembling grass roots tickling her ears.

"Enough… already… mmm—"

The girl was pressed, her body tensed, a broad palm brushed her waist, and after hearing Su Mian's intermittent breathing, he slowly stopped.

He lowered his gaze, watching those scattered eyes, then moved closer again, his fingertip pressing her chin, forcing her to part her mouth slightly, but only a fleeting kiss, no longer pressing forward.

The teasing, alternately close and distant, made Su Mian's already foggy mind even more chaotic.

She began to respond actively, pulling Gai Yin's hair to pull him down, whimpering to demand continuation.

The incoherent hints earned the promised reckless indulgence; the lips finally separated, drawing a gorgeous silver thread.

"So good."

He leaned forward, tracing her cheek's outline with lips and breath, biting her reddened earlobe; Su Mian trembled uncontrollably, swallowing saliva unconsciously.

Two entwined silhouettes interwove in the flower field, melting, temporarily forgetting everything, immersed in a desire that felt both fleeting and eternal.

Twilight closed in, swallowing the last sliver of light on the horizon.

The Church's bells rang just in time, startling the two in the field.

Su Mian abruptly pushed Gai Yin away, covering her swollen mouth as she gasped.

Although Su Mian wasn't an old feudalist, she admitted she had felt a bit pleasure, yet she was annoyed at how she got addicted.

A sense of satiety flooded her mind, and she regained a faint expression, though her earlobes still held a lingering warm moisture.

Gai Yin made no further demands, simply watching quietly; his Adam's apple rolled slightly, and his amber eyes held complex, obscure emotions.

A mad priest lured to corruption by a Demon Nun indeed fits the character setting.

But a Master Judge who sees through humanity—why would you be lured?

Those petty tricks you once thought foolish—how did they drive you to lose control?

Are you merely acting, or have you already fallen into the play?

––

Today is the deadline for Mofangdu players; Su Mian was already in the corridor before dawn.

She played that melody again on the Harp, and this time the Secret Door opened.

Su Mian let out a long breath, set the Harp down, and went alone.

Inside was a cobweb‑filled reading nook; on the Desk lay only a half‑burned white Candle, looking long abandoned.

A Oil Painting hung in the middle of the wall; Su Mian stepped forward, eyes widening instantly.

The painting depicted a panoramic view of Anvil Fortress; time's erosion dulled the colors, yet every rock and corner remained.

The Mine's vaulted ceiling was rendered with ultra‑fine strokes, outlining the jagged rocks; the protrusions and depressions… were drawn clearly.

Her fingertip hovered above the Mine, her breath quickening; Su Mian suddenly stepped back two paces, turned sideways, lit the half‑burned Candle, and the slanted light fell on the canvas.

The light crossed her shoulder, casting a faint shadow over the Mine area of the Oil Painting.

Between the rock strata's textures, a few twisted, infant‑fist‑sized shadows hovered precisely over the painted miners' shoulders.

In her mind flashed the Mine scene: dim light, people's panicked faces, that lingering "Ghost Shadow" on their shoulders.

The rumor of the dead infant was false.

"Reflection, just a reflection."

The oddly shaped rocks at the mine's ceiling were not natural, but deliberately carved.

The Watchman sounded the Horn; Morning Prayer was about to begin.

She quickly opened the drawer; inside lay several Coins and a Parchment, faintly bearing a Red Seal, looking like a pass.

Su Mian set the pass aside first, examining the Coins carefully.

Those long‑time residents of Weibensi know exactly what the unified currency looks like; this is certainly not City‑State money.

She glanced again at the dust‑covered Parchment, gently brushed it aside, revealing Latin at the top.

Pass.

Su Mian had vague suspicions but couldn't be sure; she took the clue to the market's driver, asking to be taken to the Frontline Camp.

The driver looked odd, but after taking a large sum of money, said nothing.

After traveling most of the day, the surroundings turned barren, and Su Mian faintly saw smoke rising in the distance.

On the dunes rose towering walls; atop the brick‑stone fortress, a scarlet battle flag billowed, whipping the sand into swirling gusts.

A soldier at the gate stopped Su Mian; she drew the Medal Charlie had given her from her sleeve, and was let through immediately.

The watchtower merged with the fortress; soldiers lined up uniformly, patrolling past the arena, at the junction where the camp met the distant sea.

The cloud layer pressed down low, and the faint light that filtered through barely illuminated the towering ruined citadel.

Half of the wall within the clouds was overrun by weeds, and the roots and stems of Madness Growth sank into the barren, cracked earth.

Before spotting Charlie, Su Mian first saw the long‑unseen herbist Tiffany, who sat beneath a flag‑adorned Thatched Shed, bandaging the wounds of injured soldiers.

"Where is Charlie?"

Tiffany looked at Su Mian with a hint of surprise, halted her work, and pointed to another spot.

"He's on the city wall."

Tiffany hesitated, and Su Mian gave her no further glance before turning toward the stairs leading up the city wall.

Charlie stared in astonishment at the clue Su Mian had brought, fixating on the few Coins and examining them repeatedly.

"This… this appears to be Taren's currency."

Su Mian stared intently at him, then handed the Parchment in her hand to Charlie, a thought gradually forming in her mind.

"You mentioned Cecily—could she be a Taren?"