Chapter 747: Wuhu! Not a Dream!

Her hair was messy, a few pink strands slipped out of the bun and hung on both sides of her cheeks, and the arc of the soaring bun was tilted a few degrees.

Her pink‑gold pupils were covered with a thin sheen of water, and she wasn't crying!

It was physiological tears secreted after being gagged and whimpering for too long, but the way they hung at the corner of her eye, about to fall, made everyone feel uneasy.

Her lips trembled, her cheeks flushed from scarlet to deep red, her chest rose and fell violently, and her breathing was rapid and shallow.

One hand clutched the edge of the desk, its fingertips whitened from overexertion, while the other hand pointed at Qingque, its finger also shaking.

She opened her mouth several times, the sound finally forced out of her throat, each word trembling, as if so angry she could barely form a sentence: "You… you… you…"

She wanted to curse something, but she couldn't get the words out.

It's not that her vocabulary is insufficient; Fu Xuan's vocabulary is widely recognized in Luofu as extensive, able to dissect any complex situation into at least four inferential branches within three sentences.

Yet no volume of the Tai Bu Si's scriptures ever taught her what words to use when a subordinate pries open your mouth and thrust their tongue in front of every important figure in all Luofu!

Any insult at this moment seemed too mild.

Qingque covered her mouth and stood there, watching Fu Xuan tremble with anger, the tear about to fall from his eye corner, and the disheveled pink strands clinging to his scarlet cheek.

The tongue's pain was burning, real, unmistakable.

Her brain began to reboot at maximum speed; this time it wasn't low‑power mode but emergency full‑power operation.

She quickly grabbed a strand of her own hair and yanked it hard.

Ouch!

The genuine pain traveled from the scalp surface along the nerve endings into her brain.

She slapped herself twice more, the force so great that a red imprint instantly appeared on her cheek.

It hurt—real, authentic pain, hurting so much her tears were about to spill.

Qingque's brain began to recalculate frantically.

In a dream there is no pain.

In a dream there is no sense of pain.

In a dream every sensation is filtered through a thick layer of cotton.

But now her tongue hurts, her scalp hurts, her cheek hurts, and the slap imprint still burns on her face.

She grabbed her hair again and pulled it several times; each time was a clear pain, each time telling her the same answer.

Qingque's heart sank bit by bit, from her abdomen down to her feet, finally passing through the stone slab floor into an ice cellar of unknown depth.

Her complexion shifted from the hot, flushed red after the slap to a death‑gray pallor.

She lifted her head, her emerald eyes slowly scanning every face in the hall.

Bai Lu, cheeks flushed behind her fingers, peered excitedly, her blue pupils filled with worry, shock, and a hint of strange excitement.

Yan Qing's mouth finally closed, and after that it never opened again.

Han Ya held a book in her hand, her gray pupils finally leaving the pages, looking at her with an extremely complex expression.

Yukong pulled both arms back to her chest, her teal‑long hair still immaculate, but the corner of her mouth was unnaturally taut.

Walther was still staring at the ceiling.

Xinghe held his phone, the camera steadily aimed at her; amber eyes peered out from above the screen, the curve of his mouth not yet retracted, and when he saw Qingque looking his way he gave a thumbs‑up and mouthed something that seemed like "continue."

This is not a dream.

This is reality.

A booming sound erupted in Qingque's mind, as if someone had dumped an entire crate of Qiong Yu cards onto her head.

She woke up.

She really woke up!!!

She finally woke up completely from that damned dream.

No Shuhuo, no giant trees, no hanging sea water, no Imperial Bow Mask.

That was originally a cause for celebration.

But she would rather still be in the dream!!!!

Because in the dream, if she kissed Fu Xuan she could wake the dream, and once awake everything would end.

But in reality she kissed Fu Xuan, in the very center of the Shen Ce Fu council hall, in front of Bai Lu, Yan Qing, Han Ya, Yukong, Xinghe and Walther; she force‑kissed the head of Luofu Xianzhou's Tai Bu Si and current Acting General, Fu Xuan.

And it wasn't just a single kiss.

It was a hug‑kiss, tongue inside, following the standardized procedure for three or four rounds of kissing.

No idea how long, long enough that Xinghe probably recorded at least four gigabytes.

Heaven spun, earth turned.

Qingque felt her knees go weak, her calves tremble, the stone slab beneath her suddenly turned into a swamp, gradually swallowing her down.

She saw Fu Xuan still standing by the desk, his pink hair disheveled, the tear glint at his eye corner refracting a fine line of light under the chandelier, his finger still pointing at her, not yet withdrawn.

She wanted to say something.

But her mouth had just been carrying out a completely different task, and now, suddenly forced to switch modes, her tongue suffered a severe coordination failure.

She only let out a muffled sound, like a stifled groan after stepping on a toe and being too embarrassed to voice it.

Ahhhhhhh!!!!

What on earth did she do??!!!

She force‑kissed Fu Xuan!!!!

She force‑kissed the Grand Diviner!!!!

She force‑kissed Luofu's Acting General???!!!!

In front of the Cloud Cavalry representative.

In front of the Ten Kings Office Judge.

In front of a Pioneer who was recording a video.

At the moment Fu Xuan had been working himself to death for Luofu for two days without closing his eyes, while Jing Yuan lay unconscious and people were in panic, and at the formal meeting venue where all the heads of important agencies were present.

She walked over, pulled the Acting General into her arms, and kissed him.

Stretched out the tongue!

Executed it precisely several times just as done in the dream.

Qingque inhaled a sudden breath of cold air.

The cold breath poured in from the throat, traveled down the trachea, freezing all the way to the lungs, and the entire chest cavity became chilled through.

Both eyes went black, and with a snap she fell backward on the spot.

The pupils immediately dilated, black snowflakes of massive size appeared at the edges of vision, and consciousness, like a monitor whose power cord had been pulled, was extinguishing from the periphery toward the center at an irreversible speed.

She heard someone around her calling her name, the voice coming from far away, muffled and hoarse.

Fuzzy lights flickered before her eyes, someone rushed over, someone else shouted something loudly, but she could no longer discern.

In the final frame where darkness completely swallowed her sight, she saw Fu Xuan's angry, annoyed, and embarrassed face, the tear finally sliding down the corner of his eye, and the slightly reddened, moist sheen left on his lips after she had kissed them.

Then everything became distant.

The sound grew distant, the light grew distant, the world grew distant.

Only the spot on the tip of her tongue that had been bitten still burned with a fiery pain.

Before consciousness completely cut off, Qingque's mind floated the final thought: Damn it, this is still not as good as having Shuhuo smash her to death.