Hua Cheng was going to die for the third time. This time around, rather than on a battle field with a sword through his chest or a thousand vengeful spirits tearing his very soul apart, it would be in a small wooden coffin with his beloved beneath him.

They were pressed so close. Stupidly, Hua Cheng had not anticipated this. Although he should have. He should’ve known his pathetic, disgusting body would’ve reacted this way. After depriving himself from any kind of physical, sexual pleasure for so long, it was no surprise that he was reacting so strongly.

Desperately, Hua Cheng scrambles up into his hands and knees, in fear that he was pressed to His Highness for any longer he would black out. He was panting harshly in the small space, his body trembling and quivering as unbearable heat coursed through him. Sweat dripped down his temples and the sweet scent of his own arousal fogged the air. He recognizes this feeling — this awful feeling he had suffered at the hands of within the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods hundreds of years ago and before then, in the Land of the Tender as a Xianle soldier:

His heat. His heat, for the second time, had been triggered by his beloved.

Hua Cheng’s arms shook violently, his strength depleting quickly as his mind progressively descended into madness. He’s unable to stop the way he whines, the sound filled with misery and desperation. He ached for relief, but that only brought about even more shame.