Douluo Dalu: The Goddesses Know My Secrets

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--

In the spiritual World.

Lin Qingmo was numb.

Literally numb.

If a spiritual body had a nervous System, he would probably be tingling from his scalp to his toes right now.

He watched with his own eyes as his master—majestic, dignified, aloof, mysterious, and usually unwilling to waste a single drop of spirit power on extra words—was doing things to him that could absolutely not be explained by "deep master-disciple affection."

He wanted to close his eyes.

But his spiritual perception wouldn’t listen to him.

He wanted to cover his ears.

But those fragmented, suppressed, almost reverent murmurs pierced directly through his consciousness barrier.

He was like an audience member tied to the front row, forced to watch an immersive performance where he was the protagonist.

There was no fast-forward button, no black screen, the resolution was ultra-clear, and there was even full tactile feedback.

...

When it was finally over.

Lin Qingmo thought the torture had ended.

Then he saw his master get up, fetch warm water, and use the softest towel to clean his body bit by bit.

Her movements were as meticulous as if she were repairing a peerless spirit tool, not missing a single inch.

After cleaning him, she helped him put his clothes back on, smoothing out every wrinkle and adjusting his collar to the most proper position.

Finally, she lay back down beside him, gently wrapped her arms around his waist, rested her head on his chest, and let out a satisfied, extremely faint sigh.

"..."

She fell asleep.

Just like that, she fell asleep!

The mask was still on.

But her breathing was already as steady as a sated cat.

"..."

Lin Qingmo’s mood was complex to a degree even he couldn’t describe.

His master.

The guide who had led him from an unknown Trash youth to where he was today.

The mentor who had given him crucial guidance every time he encountered a Bottleneck.

The woman he respected, was grateful to, and even worshipped from the bottom of his heart.

Had just done that kind of thing to him.

What devastated Lin Qingmo the most was—Master was so skilled!

From the initial control, to the pacing midway, to the cleanup afterward.

The entire process was fluid and accomplished in one go, without any hesitation, without any unfamiliarity.

It was skilled to the point of heart-wrenching.

And skilled to the point that it made Lin Qingmo shudder.

A terrifying question slowly emerged in Lin Qingmo’s mind: "Could this not be the first time?"

He recalled experiences where he had woken up in his master’s arms.

"Could it be that back then..."

If Lin Qingmo could move right now, he would probably cover his face with his hands.

He suddenly understood how Liu Erlong felt when facing Xiao Wu.

That sense of guilt: "I didn’t do anything wrong, but I feel incredibly sorry for you."

That sense of confusion: "What expression should I use to face you from now on?"

But the problem was, Liu Erlong was at least the one being eavesdropped on; she was the active party.

While he was the passive party.

He didn’t even know how many times this had already happened.

What made him even more disoriented was that his master’s behavior made the comparison that popped into his head Qian Xunji.

The Secret Room Douluo, Qian Xunji!

The former Supreme Pontiff of Spirit Hall, the man who had done all kinds of evil to his disciple.

Lin Qingmo let out a laugh in the spiritual World that sounded worse than crying.

What kind of Hell joke is this?

Could his master have learned from Qian Xunji?

But asking himself honestly, he couldn’t bring himself to hate his master.

He should be angry.

He should feel that he had been deceived, treated like a plaything that could be manipulated at will.

But what flashed through his mind was every patient guidance from his master, every subtle expression of concern.

Back when he was at his weakest, without even a single spirit ring, it was she who descended from the sky and gave him everything.

It could be said that without his master, there would be no Lin Qingmo today.

This gratitude was real.

But now, this twisted possessiveness was also real.

The two realities tore at him, leaving him at a loss.

He didn’t know how much time had passed.

Lin Qingmo felt his fingers twitch.

Then a hand.

Then his whole body.

The green light of the Blue Silver Life-Death Tree flowed slowly within his body, bit by bit consuming the paralyzing effect left by Bibi Dong’s Spirit Ability.

His bodily functions were recovering, his senses reconnecting.

He opened his eyes.

The room was very dark, with only a sliver of moonlight leaking through the gap in the curtains.

His master was holding him.

To be precise, her whole body was pressed against him.

One arm was wrapped around his waist, one arm was draped across his chest.

Her face was buried in the crook of his neck, her warm, steady breathing brushing against his collarbone rhythmically.

The mask was still on her face.

But at such close range, Lin Qingmo could see the tiny metal patterns on it.

His body could feel every curve of her body—soft and full, warm to the point of being scorching.

"Gulp!"

Lin Qingmo’s Adam’s apple rolled.

He should push her away.

He should stand up and loudly demand to know why his master did this.

But he didn’t.

He just looked at the face so close to his with a complex expression.

To be precise, he was looking at the mask.

Why did his master always wear a mask?

From the first day he met her, he had never seen her true face.

The brows, eyes, and lips beneath the mask were indeed extremely beautiful; one could imagine the whole face must be stunning as well.

But why cover it up?

Was there a scar on her face? Or was she afraid of being recognized?

Or was it—she didn’t want him to know who she was?

Lin Qingmo stared at the mask for a long time.

Then he did something he would never dare to do while Bibi Dong was awake.

He reached out, his fingertips gently hooked the edge of the mask, and lifted it extremely slowly.

Lin Qingmo saw that beneath the mask was a face of peerless beauty!

"Hiss!"

His breathing stopped for a moment.

Even with her eyes closed, he could tell how beautiful this face was.

The lines were as smooth as a sculpture, the skin so fair it was almost transparent.

Her eyelashes were long, casting two small fan-shaped shadows on her eyelids, trembling extremely slightly with her breathing, like butterfly wings resting on petals.

Her nose bridge was high and exquisite, her thin lips slightly pursed, and there was an extremely subtle curve at the corners of her mouth, as if she were having a gentle dream.

A few strands of deep purple long hair were scattered on the pillow, with one lock sticking to the corner of her lips, rising and falling slightly with her breath.

The moonlight fell just right on her side profile, like a very thin layer of frost sugar, turning the sharp Aura between her brows that usually made people dare not look directly at her into a fragile peace at this moment.

Lin Qingmo held his breath involuntarily.

Looking at this face, remembering that the owner of this face had just done that kind of thing to him.

This realization created a strange feeling in his heart.

He leaned down slightly, involuntarily, wanting to see more clearly.

Just then.

Bibi Dong’s eyelashes trembled slightly.

Then, the two butterfly wings slowly unfolded.

Revealing a pair of eyes with purple pupils, as deep as two wells leading to another World.

Lingering sleepiness was still in the depths of her eyes, but her pupils were rapidly focusing, reflecting Lin Qingmo’s face, which was within reach.

"..."

Their eyes met.

"..."

The World was silent.

(End of Chapter)

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