“Emperor, it’s cramped here, like hiding in a snail’s shell—just endure a bit.”

“So don’t wriggle, little Emperor; one twitch like a cat’s whisker, and Zuari will sniff us out.”

“...”

Nerves first, then breath—I kept my panic down like a lid on boiling tea. We were still in a cave, a stone womb tighter than the last, damp as moss.

No choice—Zuari closed in like a storm cutting across the hills. We dove for cover, blades sheathed, hearts held.

Now I was pressed between Qianji Sister and Aunt Saintvoice, a leaf flattened between two warm pages.

It felt good and it hurt—soft clouds against my chest, iron chains around my limbs.

Their full breasts were sealed to me like twin pillows of down; saying I felt nothing would be a lie written on water.

“Little Emperor’s skin is shockingly fine—like porcelain warmed by dawn. For a boy, that blush is wickedly tempting.”

Aunt Saintvoice pecked my cheek, a dragonfly kissing a pond. Heat flooded me like rising steam; it made the tight space even tighter.

She’d set a sound barrier earlier, a thin bell of silence like winter snow. Whispering wouldn’t crack it.

“Right, the short hair makes Emperor even more magnetic, like a blade newly polished.”

“Boys suit short hair anyway, like a bamboo shoot cut clean.”

“So, what’s with Zuari?”

“For now, she hasn’t found us; there’s distance like a field of reeds between us yet.”

Through my Sword Intent, ripples fanned out like circles on dark water. Zuari drifted three hundred meters to the southwest, a shadow prowling the trees.

“Good. We can breathe for a moment, like carp under lotus leaves.”

Qianji Sister laid her head on my shoulder, her breath sweet as fermented osmanthus, tickling my neck like an ant’s soft feet.

Her long legs leaned in, a cool willow brushing my hand. I stroked, twice, thrice—silk sliding across fingertips, easy to crave like sugar.

We were siblings by name, man and woman by bone; the thought stung like a thorn under skin.

“I’ll rest too—your shoulder is a gentle pillow, little Emperor, like a cloud at dusk.”

Aunt Saintvoice mirrored her, two swallows nesting. I wrapped an arm around each willow waist and let the left-right embrace wash over me like warm tide.

“We’re in a brutal trial, yet here we idle like cats in sun—is this fine?”

Guilt pricked like cold rain; Zuari hunted outside, and I floated light as a kite.

“Even in trials, rest and work must balance like yin and yang. With Emperor here, we can breathe easy.”

Her palm drifted to my hair, rubbing gently, warm as sun over winter pines. “Without noticing, Emperor has grown reliable as a mountain.”

“Yeah. The current little Emperor feels like a back you can lean on, like a door in a storm,” Aunt Saintvoice chimed in.

“...”

Praise hit like wine—I was happy, but my face burned like coal.

“Emperor really can’t take compliments; one word and you blush like a peach. It’s adorable.”

Qianji Sister suddenly kissed my cheek, a soft thud like fruit dropping on grass. She’d learned Aunt Saintvoice’s mischief and wore it like a ribbon.

Truth said no, pulse said yes—heat rose, rhythm quickened, a drum beneath skin. Two peerless beauties kissed me in turn, and we were pressed tight in a tunnel the size of fate.

“I get why Jingyue loves teasing Emperor now,” Qianji Sister murmured, eyes bright as lake-water at noon.

“What can we do? Little Emperor is too cute; he pulls women like the moon pulls tides,” Aunt Saintvoice said, white hands roaming like curious fish.

“Stop—this isn’t the time to mess around... huh?!”

I reached to push her away and grabbed a breast instead, soft as steamed bun, warm as clouds. Reflex made me knead; desire was a tide hard to call back.

“Mmm—so our little Emperor’s reached that age. Next time, warn me first; sudden waves startle the boat.”

I snatched my hand back, heart kicking like a colt. Aunt Saintvoice only laughed, eyes crescent as new moon.

“There won’t be a next—eh?!”

Qianji Sister caught my hand and settled it on her own proud curve, springy as a young bamboo shoot. The feel matched Aunt Saintvoice’s—my thoughts scattered like sparrows.

“Qianji Sister, what are you doing?!”

My nerves were strung like bowstrings; every meaning of “hard” pressed in.

“Nothing. Just letting Emperor touch mine too. Well? Doesn’t lose to Holy Voice, right?”

“Don’t get competitive in weird arenas... Also, even as sister and aunt-niece, you two are way too defenseless around me.”

My heart felt wrung like wet cloth—pain and joy braided.

“Defenses? Before the one we love most, what walls?” Qianji Sister’s gaze was clear as autumn sky.

“Exactly. We’d rather you be the one to take the first step, little Emperor,” Aunt Saintvoice added, voice soft as velvet.

“...”

Words failed; secret delight bloomed like a lantern in my chest.

“Hush. Enough talk—the noise just now was a gong in the night. Zuari almost caught the echo.”

Play aside, I kept my senses spread wide, Sword Intent cast like a net in black water. Zuari drifted closer, steady as a stalking cat.

By my count, thirty minutes more and the three hours would be up, a stick of incense at a time.

“Is Zuari coming?” Qianji Sister asked, breath sugar-sweet, making my cheek itch like brushed by feathers.

“Not yet. We can hide here another six or seven minutes, like hares under fern. Then we move and wait out the trial.”

If nothing else breaks the sky, I added in silence. For a second stage, this felt too easy—like a calm sea before a squall.

“Perfect. Since Zuari’s not here yet, I’ll steal a few more breaths, like a fox in shade.”

Aunt Saintvoice stayed unruffled, calm as still water. At this point, as long as we didn’t court death, we could lie low till the bell.

“Emperor, scout the next hide, like checking the wind before you cast.”

“Okay.”

I nodded, a reed bending in breeze, and pushed my Sword Intent out farther, a lantern-light sweeping dark corridors.

“Found one. A small hill two hundred meters east—hollow inside, like a gourd. We move now, before Zuari drifts this way.”

“Right. Holy Voice, lay a veil to smother our aura, like fog over marsh.”

“Leave it to me. I won’t forget,” Aunt Saintvoice said, smile a slice of moon.

The last round of hide-and-seek spread before us like a final, narrow bridge.