Chapter 327: Day One of Imperial Competition [1]
Meng Yan’s heart skipped a beat at his words, though she tried her best to maintain her stubborn pout.
"Hmph! Don’t think a few sweet words will make me forgive you so easily, Shen Yu. I meant what I said... you’re not leaving this room tonight."
"Is that a threat?" Shen Yu raised an eyebrow, a handsome, wicked smirk touching his lips as his hand slid lower down her spine, cupping her firm, shapely rear through her thin silk nightgown.
Meng Yan gasped softly at the sudden touch, her body instantly betraying her as her breath caught in her throat.
Her dark eyes, shimmering with a mix of lingering frustration and intense, overflowing longing, locked onto his.
"It’s a promise," she whispered, her voice dropping into a breathless, needy tone as her hands slid up his chest to wrap tightly around his neck.
"Now stop talking and kiss me..."
Shen Yu didn’t hesitate.
He leaned down and captured her lips in a deep, bruising kiss, lifting her effortlessly off her feet.
Meng Yan let out a muffled, ecstatic whimper against his mouth, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as she surrendered entirely to his touch, her earlier anger melting away into pure, unadulterated desire under the cover of night.
Carrying her over to the wide, silk-draped bed, Shen Yu pressed her down against the soft mattress without breaking the kiss.
Meng Yan’s fingers tangled into his long white hair, her tongue swirling wildly against his as she drank in his taste, desperate to make up for every second they had been apart.
When he finally pulled back to catch a breath, a thin thread of saliva connected their lips. Meng Yan lay beneath him, her eyes glazed with a heavy haze of lust, her chest rising and falling in short, frantic gasps.
"I missed you so much, Yu’er..." she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she reached down to unfasten the golden sash of her nightgown, parting the thin silk to reveal her soft, pale skin glowing under the moonlight.
"Fill me... please, make me yours again."
Shen Yu’s golden eyes flickered with a dark, possessive light.
He had originally intended to refrain from any intimacy until the conclusion of the grand competition, but looking down at Meng Yan, every shred of restraint vanished.
After all, she was the very first woman who had ignited his desires, the first high-born beauty he had set his sights on conquering the moment he transmigrated into this body.
Sliding his own robes off his broad shoulders, he exposed his sculpted, muscular frame before settling himself fluidly between her trembling thighs.
Her slick, heated entrance was already overflowing with sweet moisture, desperately waiting to be filled.
Aligning his heavy tip with her core, Shen Yu drove his full length straight to the hilt in one long, powerful stroke.
"AHNNNN!"
Meng Yan threw her head back, her back arching sharply off the bed as her tight, pulsing inner walls clamped tightly around his massive girth.
Tears of sheer, overwhelming bliss welled in the corners of her eyes as she squeezed him as tightly as she could.
"So big... ah, Yu’er! You’re filling me so deep!" she cried out softly into the quiet chamber.
Shen Yu didn’t slow down for a second.
Gripping her hips with both hands, he established a relentless, heavy rhythm that made the heavy bedframe creak rhythmically.
Every push struck deep against her core, driving out all her lingering frustration and replacing it with pure, intoxicating ecstasy.
Clack! Clack! Clack!
"This is what you wanted, isn’t it?" Shen Yu purred darkly, leaning down to nip playfully at her neck. "To wring me dry?"
"Yes! AH! Yes, Husband!" Meng Yan sobbed out in pure surrender, her legs locking behind his waist to draw him even deeper.
"Fuck me... break me tonight!"
The private courtyard echoed with her loud, breathless cries and the continuous, wet sounds of their passion until the late hours of the night, as Shen Yu thoroughly claimed her body, leaving her completely satisfied and spent right before the grand Imperial Competition at sunrise.
By the time the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, Thousand Waves City had already transformed into a sea of roaring activity.
The grand Imperial Competition, centered entirely on the noble arts of refining and alchemy, had brought the entire region into a fever pitch.
Banners bearing the imperial crest fluttered from every towering structure, and the wide stone avenues were packed shoulder-to-shoulder with visiting cultivators, prominent merchant guilds, and noble factions from across the territory.
The air itself buzzed with an electric tension, thick with the sharp, aromatic scents of burning spirit herbs and the distant hum of high-grade furnaces being primed.
At the heart of the city sat the Imperial Grand Arena, a colossal amphitheater constructed from solid white jade and enchanted basalt.
Today marked Day One of the trials, and the sheer scale of the event was breathtaking.
Over ten thousand alchemists and blacksmiths had registered to compete, ranging from young prodigies at the Foundation Establishment realm to masters of the Golden Core realm.
Hundreds of thousands of spectators packed the rising tiers of stone grandstands, their boisterous cheers and excited chatter echoing off the arena walls like rolling thunder.
Down on the main arena floor, however, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the lively stands.
Arranged in immaculate, precise rows were thousands of individual stone platforms, each equipped with an identical array formation and an imperial-grade heating hearth.
The thousands of participants stood at their designated stations, their faces solemn and drawn tight with anxiety.
Beads of nervous sweat rolled down the brows of younger competitors, while older masters sat cross-legged, maintaining silent, meditative focus as they inspected their allocated spirit materials.
A single mistake in fire control or ingredient extraction meant immediate disqualification and public disgrace before the highest echelons of the empire.
Up in the elite, high-altitude viewing pavilion reserved for the region’s dominant forces, Shen Yu sat comfortably in an plush velvet seat, flanked by his inner circle.
His golden eyes swept calmly over the vast sea of tense alchemists on the arena floor below, before settling on a single, serene figure, Yilan.
She sat cross-legged at her designated station, her eyes closed in deep meditation.
Amidst the surrounding chaos and the suffocating tension radiating from the thousands of anxious competitors around her, she maintained an aura of absolute, unshakeable composure.
A slow, fond smile touched Shen Yu’s lips as he looked at her, his eyes lingering on her calm, radiant figure as she prepared to dominate the competition under his name.