Chapter 213 | Deeper Touch*

Chapter 213: 213 | Deeper Touch*

Qing’s entire body went rigid in his arms.

"The... the bed?"

She lifted her head sharply, her dark eyes wide with alarm as she glanced past his shoulder toward the wide, low sleeping couch inside the inner chamber.

"Why would I need to lie down on your bed!"

"Because on the ship, the blockage was along your upper back," Lin Tian replied with calm, unshakeable logic, as if explaining a basic sword stance to a slow student.

He looked down at the crimson hand she still held pressed against her lower stomach.

"Unless the Chief Martial Arts Master can stand on one leg while I press the acupoints along her inner thighs, lying down is the only way the Yang Qi will circulate evenly."

Inner thighs...

The words struck Qing’s ears like thunder.

For years, she had lived by the sword. Men in the sect barely dared to look her in the eye for more than three seconds, let alone speak of touching her legs on a bed at midnight.

"You—!" Qing’s hand twitched toward her waist where her sword usually hung, only to remember she had left her heavy blade in her pavilion so it wouldn’t clank on the stone path.

Before she could muster the strength to pull away, another vicious wave of scorching cramps twisted through her pelvic meridians, sending a cold tremor down both of her legs.

Without a word, Lin Tian slid one arm behind her shoulders and the other beneath her knees, lifting her off the floor in a single smooth motion.

"Wait—Lin Tian, put me down! I can walk—!"

Qing’s protest came out breathless and weak as her arms instinctively looped around his shoulders to keep from falling. Being carried like this by a younger disciple made her head spin with a dizzying sense of helplessness.

Lin Tian carried her into the inner chamber and laid her down gently.

Before she could sit back up, he placed one palm lightly over her sternum, pressing a warm stream of golden Yang into her chest that instantly melted the tension in her shoulders and pinned her softly against the mattress.

"First the boots and the outer clothes," Lin Tian said calmly, stepping to the foot of the couch and pulling off her heavy crimson martial boots. "Then loosen your belt."

Qing lay against the dark pillows, staring up at the wooden ceiling rafters while her chest heaved rapidly.

She knew that if she kicked him away right now, he would stop. And the terrifying truth was that her starved meridians were already aching for his hands with a desperation that drowned out every rule in her head.

Closing her eyes tightly so she wouldn’t have to watch him looking at her, Qing reached up with trembling fingers and unfastened the brass clasps of her crimson martial coat.

She parted the thick outer uniform, revealing the thin white silk inner tunic beneath.

When Lin Tian did not immediately place his hands on her stomach, she cracked one eye open—and saw him looking calmly down at the heavy crimson martial trousers still covering her hips and legs.

"The lower acupoints are blocked by the thick cloth of your trousers, Instructor," Lin Tian said evenly. "Slide them down past your thighs."

A low whimper of pure mortification caught in Qing’s throat.

Her face burned so hot she felt as though the Fire-Poison had risen to her cheeks. Biting the inside of her lip, she hooked her thumbs pushed them down to her knees, leaving her lower body covered only by a pair of thin, short white silk inner cloth that ended high on her hips.

For the first time, the famed Chief Martial Arts Master of the Inner Sect lay half-bared under the warm glow of the bedroom lamp.

Unlike Elder Liu’s soft, lush curves, Instructor Qing possessed the long, breathtaking figure of a peak swordswoman. Her belly was flat and firmly toned, curving inward at a narrow waist before flaring out into surprisingly full, rounded hips and long, powerful thighs with skin as smooth and pale as warm jade.

Qing turned her head sharply into the pillow, covering her eyes with her left forearm as her bare legs pressed tightly together in instinctive embarrassment.

"Hurry up and suppress it..." she whispered hoarsely from beneath her arm. "If you dare touch anywhere... I will cut your hand off tomorrow."

A quiet chuckle rumbled in Lin Tian’s chest.

"Still giving orders while lying on my bed, Instructor?"

He sat down on the edge of the mattress beside her hip and circulated Qi, gathering a dense, scorching layer of golden Yang essence across both of his palms.

Then he pushed the hem of her thin white inner cloth up to the base of her ribs and placed both bare hands directly onto the smooth, feverish skin of her lower abdomen.

"Haaah—!"

A sharp, trembling gasp tore from Qing’s throat the instant skin met skin.

Her back arched two inches off the mattress. The transfer of Yang against her bare belly was so pure and overwhelming that the Fire-Poison coiled beneath her navel flinched violently, shrinking inward like frost beneath a blazing sun.

Lin Tian did not keep his hands still.

Using the heels of his palms and his thumbs, he began a slow, deep massage across her lower stomach, moving in steady downward circles from her navel to the very edge of her thin white silk.

Every pass of his calloused hands drove waves of thick, golden heat deep into her flesh.

At first, all Qing felt was the indescribable, heavenly relief of burning agony melting away from her nerves, glowing warmth that made her toes curl.

Then, within ten breaths, the nature of that warmth changed.

Because her lower abdomen sat directly over her womb and the most sensitive nerve clusters of her Divine Valkyrie Body, the excess Yang pouring from his hands began to ignite a completely different kind of fire.

"Mmm... nngh..."

Qing’s teeth sank into her own lower lip under her shielding arm.

Every time Lin Tian’s thumbs pressed down along the V-shaped lines of her lower pelvis—brushing a hair’s breadth above the thin silk covering her center—a jolt of liquid electricity shot straight between her legs.

"The upper abdomen is clear," Lin Tian murmured, his deep voice vibrating close to her ear as he leaned over her. "Now the hip and thigh channels. Uncross your legs, Qing-er."

At the sound of him calling her Qing-er instead of Instructor, a violent shudder ran through her frame.

She tried to keep her knees locked together, but her limbs felt as heavy and pliant as melted wax. Before she could refuse, Lin Tian slid his warm hands down from her stomach to the bare outsides of her hips, and gently nudged her thighs apart with his knee.

His palms glided around to the sensitive, pale skin of her inner thighs.

"Ah—no, wait, that’s too close—mmph!"

When his scorching thumbs pressed firmly into the primary meridian channels high on the inside of her thighs—less than two inches from the damp silk between her legs—Qing lost control of her voice completely.

Terrified that a sound might leak out of her throat, her right hand shot out blindly and clamped onto Lin Tian’s forearm, while she turned her head and buried her mouth directly against the dark sleeve of his shoulder!

Lin Tian did not pull back. He let her press her burning face against his shoulder while his hands worked the tight, trembling muscles of her inner thighs and hips in slow, relentless strokes.

Skin to skin, the heat was maddening.

Her Body had never known a man’s touch in years, and now every sensitive nerve along her thighs and pelvis was being flooded with the purest, most tyrannical Yang essence in the world.

With each slow upward stroke of his thumbs toward the crease of her hips, the Fire-Poison hiding in her lower channels was completely incinerated—leaving only raw, overwhelming physical pleasure in its wake.

"Look how wet the silk is getting, Instructor," Lin Tian whispered against her temple, his thumb brushing deliberately along the damp, heated edge of her white inner cloth as he pressed the final pelvic meridian. "Are you sure this heat is still from the poison?"

"Shut up... shut up..." Qing sobbed softly into her shoulder, her proud voice reduced to a broken, trembling plea as her hips gave an involuntary roll against his hands.

She couldn’t stop her body from moving. A strange, unbearable pressure was coiling tighter and tighter at the core of her abdomen.

With one hand resting flat over her lower belly right above her womb, and the other pressing firmly against the highest meridian point of her inner thigh, he released a final, concentrated pulse of Yang Qi.

Boom.

The warm surge struck her lower nerves like lightning.

"Hmph—!!"

Qing’s teeth clamped down Lin Tian’s shoulder as a violent, blinding climax tore through her body for the first time in her life—triggered entirely by the scorching heat of his hands!

Her body went rigid on the couch, her bare thighs clamping tightly around his wrist as wave after wave of dizzying pleasure crashed through her pelvis, soaking the thin white silk between her legs completely.

For nearly a full minute, she lay trembling against him, her forehead resting heavily on his shoulder while her chest rose and fell in ragged, uneven gasps.

Slowly, the blinding white haze in her mind cleared.

[Target 5 (Instructor Qing) Obsession Level: 48% → 50% (Deep Physical Addiction)]

When Qing realized what had just happened—that she had just climaxed on a junior representative’s bed from his bare hands alone, leaving her inner silk completely drenched around his fingers—every drop of blood in her body seemed to rush to her face.

Lin Tian slowly slid his warm hands away from her thighs.

The instant his grip loosened, Qing scrambled off the couch as if the mattress were made of hot coals.

With her back turned firmly toward him and her ears glowing bright red in the lamp light, she yanked her crimson clothes up, fastened her belt with frantic, clumsy fingers, and shoved her feet into her boots.

"Tomorrow morning... six o’clock at the main gate!" she choked out, her voice cracking twice as she refused to look back at him even once.

"Do not be late!"

Before Lin Tian could utter a single teasing word, the door of the side chamber flew open and clicked shut, followed by the sound of rapid, slightly wobbly footsteps hurrying away toward the Western Private Pavilion.

Lin Tian sat on the edge of the warm couch, looking at the faint tooth-mark left on the shoulder of his dark robe, and let out a quiet, satisfied laugh.