“Shh—Emperor, just bear with it a little, or we’ll get spotted.”
Her palm was a soft leaf over my mouth; Qianji Sister breathed by my ear, warm as spring wind. She was pressed over me, and Aunt Saintvoice was almost the same.
“Didn’t expect Zuari to be this fast,” Aunt Saintvoice murmured, voice like a bell behind a curtain. “Can’t be helped. At the very end of a trial, you stay sharp. Little Emperor, just ‘endure’ a bit. We’re not heavy, right?”
Unlike Qianji Sister, Aunt Saintvoice was straddling my thighs, light as a swallow on a reed.
How did we end up in this seriously misleading pose? A few minutes back, Zuari’s speed suddenly soared, like a hawk cutting the wind.
He ran us down within ten seconds of us stepping out, so we scrambled, threw him off, and slipped into the final hideout like fish under stone.
We didn’t expect this hill’s belly to be even narrower than the last. With Zuari biting our trail, teeth bright as steel, we had no time to adjust anything.
We cleared the space and dove in. No chance to fix our posture. So now: me flat on soft grass, Qianji Sister draped across half my chest, Aunt Saintvoice perched on my legs. Even rushed, I still can’t figure why it turned into this.
It’s tight as a bamboo tube in here; changing positions is tough. Zuari’s alertness is at full blaze, lanterns lit high. We might have to keep this up till the trial ends.
“This pose is way too bad. Especially where you’re sitting, Aunt Saintvoice.”
I finally slipped free of Qianji Sister’s tender hand and muttered it, shame fluttering like a trapped sparrow.
“Bad? Why?”
Aunt Saintvoice twisted slightly, a smile with hidden thorns. “Feels like something’s…firm. What could that be?—Ow, Qianji, why hit me?”
“Honestly, not now. Don’t tease Emperor.”
Qianji Sister shot her a look, then turned and stroked my hair, gentle as night rain. “I know it’s hard. Please hold on. It’ll end soon.”
“If you and Aunt Saintvoice don’t mess around, I’d be a lot less miserable.”
I felt a spark of secret joy, a lantern under my ribs, but my body was suffering on every front.
Time crawled like cold syrup. In the cramped cave, a hazy sweetness swelled, an intimate scent like blossoms after rain. Qianji Sister’s fragrance and Aunt Saintvoice’s clean note kept washing over me, tide after tide.
Hard to bear—though embarrassingly comfortable.
At first Qianji Sister held herself up, a willow with its own breeze. Then, slowly, she relaxed, letting me carry all her weight—light as feather snow—so her full curves pressed warm against my chest.
Uwah. I wanted to cry without tears. Being a guy, in this situation, is pure endurance.
“Emperor, your face is so red. Are you feeling sick?”
She brushed my bangs up, then leaned in. Our foreheads touched, heat passing like shared tea. We were so close we could have kissed.
Her beautiful eyes locked on mine, clear as twin lakes. Does she not get shy?
“I’m fine. You’re just too close. I can’t quite breathe.”
I set my palm to her smooth cheek, lifting gently to open a little space. The softness was sinful; my fingers pinched twice before I could stop.
“That’s good. But it’s so comfy lying on you. I kind of don’t want to get up.”
She said it, but without a whisper of sound she sat up. I’d been lying too long and tried to rise as well—then ended up in Aunt Saintvoice’s arms.
No, she grabbed me first. Our posture now felt even worse—Aunt Saintvoice straddling my thighs, face-to-face, holding me close. I glanced down and caught a teasing hint of cleavage.
Worse than before. Much worse.
“Aunt Saintvoice…what are you doing?”
I shifted my gaze and asked, helplessness bitter as tea dregs. My heart was happy, sure, but my body was paying the bill.
“As you can see, I’m just holding Little Emperor.”
…Right. Fine. Whatever.
Ten minutes to go. By Sword Intent, Zuari was still wandering fifty meters east, a shadow pacing at the edge of our field. He hadn’t found us.
Aunt Saintvoice’s hem had slid, showing calves smooth as jade, pale and soft. Her legs crossed behind my back, clamping me like a silk knot.
I tried to shift her leg. She wouldn’t budge. I gave up the struggle, a fish that knows the net.
“Holding Little Emperor feels so good. I want to never let go.”
“Please spare me. A few times is fine. Too much and I won’t keep up.”
“Won’t keep up in which way?”
She breathed at my ear, voice smoky, then nipped my earlobe, a spark jumping to my spine. I nearly yelped. Maybe Zuari outside isn’t the real threat; maybe she is.
“…Do as you like, Aunt Saintvoice.”
Arguing would be exhausting. I’ll just go with it. Being held like this felt good; a small luxury before the end.
Ten short minutes vanished like dew. Before we could step out, a voice came from outside—Kyaaf, steady as a drum: “The trial has ended. You may come out.”
Phew—thank the heavens. Freedom flowed back into my lungs. We didn’t hesitate; we slipped from the narrow cave at once.
“Wow. Didn’t expect Zuari to lose this completely,” Kyaaf said, consoling Zuari while glancing at us. “Watching the trial was boring, sure, but congrats on passing.”
Boring to watch—true enough. We hid in caves most of the time, while Zuari searched slow as winter sun. Anyone would be bored.
“Actually, I’m thinking the trial’s too simple. In an open field like this, every hill stands out. If you just destroy them all, we’d have nowhere to hide, right?”
“Not that easy,” Kyaaf said, shaking his head. “You can only destroy a spot after you’ve accurately found the challengers. Random destruction earns Zuari punishment. Besides, every hideout you used had a barrier isolating scent and sound, and an illusion array. Zuari not finding you quickly is normal.”
“An illusion array?”
Only one person could do that. My eyes went to Aunt Saintvoice without thinking.
“Oh my, Little Emperor, you didn’t notice?” She smiled, like a fan closing. “In hide-and-seek, you hide your spots. Otherwise it isn’t a game.”
“Makes sense. That tracks.”
We chatted a little more, then took our leave from Kyaaf and the others, heading for the exit at full speed. Lingxiao and Heartvoice were probably waiting, already through their trial. Keeping them waiting wouldn’t be right.
