Regret, Royal Uncle Is Not to Be Provoked

Serena Feng's whole body tensed, her senses far sharper than usual. When Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan's callused fingertips brushed across her sensitive wounds, she shuddered all over, unable to stop her mouth from falling open...

A tingling numbness started at her back and swept through her entire body, like an electric shock. Her body trembled; Serena forced her mouth shut, swallowing the moan that nearly escaped, and complained, "Ninth Royal Uncle, don't mess around—I'm an injured patient, an injured patient!"

She wasn’t being deliberately coy—her body truly couldn’t handle Nolan’s teasing. All it took was the slightest touch from him, and she’d go weak at the knees, unable to resist.

When the heart stirs, the body follows!

"What exactly is going through your head? I’m not so much of a beast," Nolan said, his face clouded with gloom. Yet in Serena’s eyes, he seemed anything but unaffected—otherwise, why would she keep suspecting him of having those thoughts?

Annoyed, Nolan raised his hand, intending to give Serena’s back a slap. But remembering her injuries there, he changed course and slapped her butt instead.

Smack—Nolan was truly angry now, and didn’t hold back. His palm landed hard on Serena’s buttocks.

Pain is good!

Serena had been holding herself up, careful not to let her thighs touch the low couch. But Nolan’s slap knocked her flat onto the low couch, and the wounds on her inner thighs smashed against the hard surface.

"Ah—so painful." Serena was caught off guard; the jolt of pain nearly made her bite her own tongue.

What just happened?

Nolan realized Serena wasn’t faking—her pain was real. Startled, he worried he’d been too rough. He swept her into his arms, spun around, sat down on the low couch, and gently repositioned her on his lap, careful to avoid the wounds on her back.

"You’ve gotten awfully delicate since we left the city. This prince hits you, and you still dare to glare at me." Nolan didn’t say a single word of concern, but his hands betrayed his true feelings.

Tch, what a repressed man.

Serena had finally recovered from the pain and turned her thoughts elsewhere—only for her face to go pale the moment she remembered.

Her wounds!

Ah! It was too late—Nolan had already started, lifting her clothes to inspect her injuries. She was wearing so little that he had easy access; even if Serena wanted to stop him, she didn’t have the strength.

No!

Serena couldn’t imagine how dark Nolan’s face would get when he saw her wounds. Like an ostrich, she buried her hands in her face, pretending she couldn’t see anything.

"Serena Feng, tell this prince—what happened here?" Nolan demanded.

As expected, when Ninth Royal Uncle saw Serena Feng's two legs mangled and bloody, his face grew even darker and his voice took on a chill it had never had before. The strength with which he held Serena increased until she cried out in pain, and only then did he snap out of it and quickly loosen his grip.

"Serena Feng, tell this prince—what happened here?" Seeing Serena remain silent, Ninth Royal Uncle pressed her again, his tone even harsher this time, making it clear she shouldn't even think about brushing him off.

Serena felt like crying but had no tears. She quietly parted her fingers and peeked at Ninth Royal Uncle's grim, hell-judge-like face. She couldn't help but shiver, her eyes darting as she instantly switched to playing weak:

"My wounds hurt so much, Ninth Royal Uncle..." The last 'Uncle' was drawn out in a long, plaintive tone, clearly meant to sound cute and pitiful.

Normally, Ninth Royal Uncle would turn a blind eye and let Serena get away with acting weak, but not today.

"Serena Feng, speak clearly. Today, even if you call me Tenth Royal Uncle, it won't help. Now tell me—what happened to your wounds?"

Ninth Royal Uncle truly wanted to give Serena a beating for her disobedience, but looking her over, he couldn't find a single spot to strike without hurting her. If he made her cry out, his own heart would ache.

In his memory, those snowy-white, slender legs were now covered in blood and yellow pus. Though not as gruesome as the wounds on her back, the injuries to her legs looked even more severe, as if they'd been scalded by boiling oil. The sight made his heart twist painfully.

"Wuu..." Serena whimpered pitifully, her slender fingers clutching Ninth Royal Uncle's collar as she pleaded, "Treating my wounds is urgent, Ninth Royal Uncle. Can you help me apply medicine to them first? Ninth Royal Uncle, it really hurts—I swear I'm not lying to you."

"Not lying to this prince? You’ve waited all these days—what’s a moment more? Besides, with the strength you’re showing, you could strangle this prince without a problem. Is it really as painful as you claim?" Ninth Royal Uncle's heart ached for Serena, but if he didn’t discipline this woman for three days, she’d tear the roof off.

When she tugged his hem, he saw it as flattery; when she pulled his sleeve, he took it as playful teasing. But now, strangling him by the collar—what was that supposed to be? Attempted murder of her own husband?

Uh... Serena was left speechless by Ninth Royal Uncle. She was clearly trying to please him—how did it turn into strangling him? She quickly let go, and sure enough, his collar was full of creases. It looked like she'd really used a lot of force just now.

"It was an accident, really an accident." Serena fawned shamelessly, hooking her left arm around Ninth Royal Uncle's neck to keep from falling, while her right hand obsequiously smoothed out the wrinkles on his clothes.

Ninth Royal Uncle was a neat freak—how could he put up with his clothes being messed up like this? Serena figured she was just flattering the wrong way, so she worked even harder, practically pressing her whole body against him.

At this moment, Ninth Royal Uncle was caught—pushing Serena away felt wrong, but not pushing her away felt even worse. His beloved woman was throwing herself into his arms, her delicate, curvy body pressed tightly against him, her breath warm and soft at his ear. If he didn't get stirred up, he wasn't a man—but was this really the time for that?

Ninth Royal Uncle resolved that once Serena recovered, he would teach her a real lesson—and every man knows exactly what that means.

If he didn’t make Serena unable to get out of bed for three days, he’d write the word 'nine' upside down.

Mini-theater:

After their passionate lovemaking, Lightly pushes Jiujiu aside and goes to bathe alone. She emerges wreathed in mist, fresh as an orchid. Jiujiu can't resist—he moves in, wanting to pin her down and go for another round.

This chapter isn’t over yet~.~ Please click the next page to keep reading the exciting story!

Lightly quickly dodged away, shooting Jiujiu a glare. "No more! I have something really important to do."

Jiujiu glared at Serena, bristling. "What could be more important than this prince? After Wang Jinling and Little White, who are you caring about now? Where do you rank this prince? Am I not even as important as a dead horse? Hmm?"

Lightly's fire instantly faded. She hurried over to massage Jiujiu's back, coaxing, "How could that be? You're always number one in my heart—no one could ever replace you."

Jiujiu felt satisfied inside, but pretended not to believe her, putting on a proud face. "If this prince is first in your heart, then whatever important thing you have can wait."

Lightly lowered her head, resting her chin on Jiujiu's shoulder. "Just one incense stick's time—give me that much, please? I promise I'll be quick. By the time you finish bathing, I'll be done."

Jiujiu was puzzled. "What could be so important and finished so quickly?"

"Can I not say?"

"No, you can't. If you don't say, you can't do it." Jiujiu was utterly domineering, wrapping his arms around Lightly's waist to keep her from running off.

Lightly looked aggrieved, lowering her head and fiddling with her fingers. "Fine, I'll say it... um... I want... I want..."

She thought for ages but couldn't come up with anything. Jiujiu grew frustrated. "Does this prince eat people? If you don't say, then just forget it. This prince doesn't want to hear it anymore."

"Reporting to Ninth Royal Uncle—I want to check the comments!" Lightly blurted out in a rush.

"What? Comments? Again with the comments? Not allowed! Are comments more important than this prince? How many times has it been? Just now, when this prince was with you, you seemed distracted—were you thinking about this? Serena Feng, listen to this prince: I said no, and I mean no. Do you understand?" Jiujiu bristled again.

Lightly kept playing the pitiful wife. "Ninth Royal Uncle, don't be like this. Just let me take a look, okay? I want to see what they're saying about us. Please..."

"No way..." He hadn't even used his beauty trap yet—he wasn't about to give in so easily. Too much loss!

Lightly kept wriggling and twisting until her clothes slipped off, and Jiujiu tackled her onto the bed...

Jiujiu was satisfied. Once he used his beauty trap, anything was negotiable—but only after he'd had his fill...

Lightly: ...Did you see that? Just to read your comments, I've been working so hard—even resorting to the beauty trap! So why aren't you leaving comments yet?