Under a handsome maple tree on Mount Xianglu,
Fang Yang lay on the ground, amidst a shower of falling leaves, his consciousness still slightly hazy.
He only felt Empress lying atop his thighs, using her proud and graceful curves to gently cradle his head.
His head throbbed, veins bulging, a sensation that was simply undeniable.
But soon he was plunged back into a gentle dreamland, so enchanting, so soft, and emanating a faint virgin fragrance.
He looked down only to see Empress's body trembling slightly, cheeks flushed, constantly biting her lips, her phoenix eyes revealing deep shyness and indignation.
Clearly, such an act was unprecedented for the Empress, unimaginable for her past self.
After all, the Empress had always been aloof, breathtakingly brilliant.
She had the talent and the means, and her heart was quite cold and ruthless!
Otherwise, she couldn't have become the sovereign of Tang in such a short period of time.
