Sick Beauty [Rebirth]

Chapter 119: Warmth.

Currently, at the Demon Palace.

Inside the bamboo building.

The red candle on the table burned noiselessly.

Every inch of his surroundings made him feel dazed.

Ye Yunlan was lying on the bed. His pure-white hair spread like snow, and his vibrant red dress was dazzling and beautiful.

He was drunk. The alcohol blushed his cheeks, and his golden eyes were clouded. He was soaked in incense for a few days, and his whole body was as soft as water.

The Demon Lord embraced him and leisurely stroked his cheek with his hand like brushing a piece of supple, steaming snow.

"We're married, Master."

He said softly.

Married.

Ye Yunlan felt a little lost at this word.

The Demon Lord loved his bewildered expression and compliance. He bowed his head to taste him, those lips glowing with watery luster.

Yunlan allowed the kiss dazedly. The Demon Lord's silhouette reflected in his eyes, and it slowly rippled and shone as if water was about to dribble.

The figure of his recollections steadily overlapped with the vague body in front of him.

So familiar.

Yet so...unfamiliar.

Where was he?

Why...was he here?

Demon Lord: "What are you thinking?"

He shook his head, indicating that he wasn't thinking.

Yet, his brows were still mildly frowning, and his cheeks were flushed.

Demon Lord: "Master lied to me."

At this point, the other party's blood eyes seemed to exhibit a slight gloomy brilliance, overwhelming the contentment's initial color. It progressed into hostility and coldness that did not resemble a living person.

The pale and slender hand gently strangled his neck. The Demon Lord lowered his head, bit his earlobe, and muttered: "Don't lie to me."

The deep darkness spread over.

He was a little out of breath and turned his head subtly, aiming to avoid it. However, the other party clasped his chin with his hand and kissed him deeper, not letting him escape.

The candle fire crackled.

The inseparable fragrance lingered in the room. He didn't know whether it was the outside flowers' fragrance floating in or emitted from the inner room's depths, but he melted like hot snow. His slender fingers gripped the bedding tightly, then someone held him. His fingers were intertwined and interspersed.

The Demon Lord said hoarsely: "Master is so warm."

The room's shadows were like vines coating the window sills, intertwining into a net. It twisted, extended grotesquely, and formed a denser net to restrain his whole body. It made it difficult for him to cower away, and there was nowhere to escape.

Warm tears streamed from the ends of his eyes, soaking the white hair on his cheeks.

His wedding dress was chucked to the floor, and the pearl hairpin was flung aside.

He looked around at the known furnishings.

It was as if they were back in the Sky Sect's bamboo building.