A torrent of soul energy surged, coalescing into a shimmering, five-colored tome—Zephyr Zinger's memories made manifest.
Sun Elaine had once explained to Zephyr that in this cultivation world, reading someone's entire memory was called "pseudo soul snatching," a dangerous act that risked shattering the mind, leaving the soul torn and broken. Yet she clutched the radiant book, her eyes blazing with excitement, eager to uncover every secret of her beloved.
Zephyr's heart swelled with joy seeing his immortal fairy wife so thrilled. Having already shared his past life with her, there were no barriers between them.
The goddess flicked her wrist, and a jade slip materialized in the air, hovering just before her forehead. As the slip pulsed with a faint glow, her mesmerizing eyes ignited with a hypnotic crimson light. Around her, fragments of the five-colored tome began to dissolve—shattering into glimmering shards of light that swirled like scattered stardust.
As a mortal unable to cultivate, Zephyr watched, captivated by the supernatural display. "Elaine-chan, are you reading it?" he asked, curiosity alight in his voice. He'd once seen her unravel his memories from such a tome, a kaleidoscope of vivid scenes flashing like a carousel of films, revealing his life in vibrant fragments.
Her raven hair cascaded over her flawless form, her full breasts marked with faint handprints, their delicate peaks a forbidden summit of desire. Her intimate core still enveloped Zephyr's length, drawing him into her divine warmth even after eight releases, his stamina seemingly nourished by her celestial essence.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
"Mmm♡… Arh♡…" Sun Elaine shook her head, a playful smile curving her lips, signaling she wouldn't consume his memories all at once. Like savoring a rare vintage wine, she'd relish them slowly, sip by sip.
"Mmm♡… Your wicked thoughts fill this tome," she teased, tapping her temple, her voice a sultry whisper. "Your filthy desires are everywhere in here… The rest, I… Arh♡… I'll discover slowly."
——
Late at night, in the main bedroom of the courtyard, the ugly obese fat man lay sprawled on the floor, his face etched with despair. Pinned by an inexplicable force after being kicked away by Goddess Elaine, he couldn't move an inch.
"Shit, it's over! Damn it! I'm toast!" he groaned. "Elaine-san's really pissed off this time—she'll never let me touch her again."
Just as Fat Bull resigned himself to being trapped all night, Zephyr Zinger shuffled in, exhaustion evident in his slumped posture, one hand supporting his aching lower back.
"Fatty, Fairy Sun doesn't want to see your face right now," Zephyr said. "I'll get you out of this binding formation."
Zephyr sprinkled scented powder provided by Sun Elaine, which transformed into a fragrant pink mist that enveloped the naked Fat Bull. The force holding him dissipated, and he scrambled to his feet.
"Zephyr, bro! Dearest brother!" Fat Bull pleaded. "You gotta help me, or Fairy Sun won't let me near her again." He recalled the afternoon's intoxicating hours with the goddess, only to be violently rejected with a kick in the end.
Boomer Boner, the Fat Bull, son of the Balfton Dynasty's Prime Minister, was a notorious second-generation official, infamous for his debauchery in the capital's most extravagant brothels. His reputation as a lewd, uneducated playboy was why Zephyr had chosen him, knowing his prowess with conquering and toying women, to fulfill the dark kink arrangement with Sun Elaine, who had reluctantly agreed to sleep with another man under Zephyr's coax and pester.
Thus, the absurd cuckold scene had unfolded early this afternoon.
Boomer Boner had fallen for Sun Elaine at first sight, vowing to make the fairy goddess his private. Zephyr, fully aware of Fat Bull's hentai intentions, reveled in the thrill of his cuckold fetish, finding intense excitement in the scenario.
Zephyr's mind often wandered to sexual fantasies of his beloved Elaine-chan being overwhelmed by other men's erect dicks, moaning and climaxing under their touch and thrust. As for the risk of her being truly dominated or taken away by others? Zephyr wasn't worried. His trust faith in his immortal fairy wife was unshakable.
"Okay, okay, I get it," Zephyr said, rubbing his tired eyes. "We'll talk later, at least after Fairy Sun cools off. Trust me, I've had a rough night too."
In the dead of midnight, Fat Bull donned his tattered, expensive clothes and left the clinic courtyard, casting a reluctant glance back at the place where his fleeting dream had unfolded.
——
In the main bedroom of the courtyard, every trace of the day's chaos had been erased. Sun Elaine, ever the cleanliness enthusiast, had replaced the destroyed beddings with fresh, crisp sheets that gleamed softly in the candlelight. The air carried a faint scent of lavender, soothing and pure.
Clad in a translucent gauze nightdress, Sun Elaine sat gracefully on the edge of the bed, her stunning figure subtly visible beneath the delicate fabric, a vision of ethereal beauty. Her raven hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her flawless face. She gazed down at Zephyr Zinger, who knelt at her feet with a warm, adoring smile, gently washing her feet in a basin of warm, rose-scented water. His touch was tender, reverent, as if tending to a sacred treasure.
In this medieval world, bound by feudal traditions where women were expected to serve their husbands, Zephyr stood apart. He harbored no trace of patriarchal arrogance, treating Sun Elaine not as a possession but as his equal, his beloved. To her, he was extraordinary—a gentleman of unshakable kindness, his love for her pure and unwavering. This man, her husband, cherished her with a heart untainted by the era's rigid norms.
"Zep, I love you," she murmured, her voice soft yet brimming with emotion, her eyes shimmering with devotion.
"Honey, I love you too," Zephyr replied, his gaze locking with hers, a quiet vow in his words. He dried her feet with a soft cloth, his movements deliberate and caring, before rising to sit beside her.
Perhaps overwhelmed by the day's relentless whirlwind of cuckoldry, Zephyr scarcely noticed as Sun Elaine drifted toward him—drawn by an almost gravitational pull of longing. Her usual goddess radiance had softened into something quieter, more vulnerable, yet infinitely more intoxicating.
She melted against him, arms encircling his shoulders like vines claiming their trellis. Her lips grazed his ear, and the whisper that followed was a velvet murmur, a secret symphony of "just-us" promises. Between shared dreams and stifled laughter, their words tangled—threads of devotion spun into the night.
Zephyr knew, with bone-deep certainty: This was where love resides.
Moonlight sieved through the lattice window, painting their entwined bodies in liquid silver. The world beyond dissolved, leaving only this: the cadence of synced breaths, the lexicon of fingertips tracing constellations, and a bedroom swollen with the quiet triumph of two souls refusing to unravel.