Jiang Yuxi's POV
This is for research.
That's all.
That's the only reason I'm doing this.
I tell myself that again as I stand in front of the mirror, my breath uneven, my palms slightly damp.
For research.
The sheer, black nightdress clings to my body like a whisper of sin. It's almost weightless, the thin, delicate material barely covering anything at all. The intricate lace cups frame my chest, teasing rather than concealing, the ribbon at the center tied into a neat little bow—a gift waiting to be unwrapped.
My thighs are exposed, the matching underwear doing nothing to shield the heat of my skin. Every move I make causes the fabric to shift, threatening to reveal more.
I swallow hard, pressing my lips together.
I check my makeup one last time—soft, natural, yet enough to emphasize the fullness of my lips and the depth of my eyes.
My heart is pounding.
Why am I so nervous?
