"This humble Daoist practices the Way and keeps away from women."
"Then what was pressed against your maiden body last night, my lord... ?"
Transmigrated into the body of a marquis's legitimate daughter who had been driven to death by psychological abuse, Shen Zhaoning looked at her curvaceous, alluring figure in the mirror and smiled.
The original owner had such a magnificent body and let it go to waste. With that slender waist, rounded hips, and graceful curves, she'd cinched herself into a corset until she looked haggard, only for her fiancé, the Crown Prince, to call her "loose"?
Shen Zhaoning was a master seductress. Men? She'd only ever failed to pursue the ones she didn't want.
She tore off the corset and reclaimed her place as the most alluring woman alive.
Then she set her sights on the scumbag's "uncle," the Imperial Preceptor, a man renowned for his asceticism.
Everyone said the Imperial Preceptor was free of worldly desires and would ascend to immortality sooner or later.
But in the dimly lit Sutra Pavilion, he pinned her against a bookshelf. His horsetail whisk swept across her snow-white skin, his breath burning hot.
"Shen Zhaoning, is this what you want?"
She tugged at his Daoist robes, smiling seductively.
"Your path is to save all living beings, my lord. Can it save you, too?"
Later, the scumbag Crown Prince came begging to reconcile, his eyes red with regret. Nestled in the Imperial Preceptor's arms, she toyed with his horsetail whisk and said carelessly:
"Too late. From now on... call me aunt by marriage."
The lofty Imperial Preceptor whispered beside her ear, obsessive and tender:
"Zhaoning, with you in hell, this humble Daoist would welcome it with open arms."
The aloof Imperial Preceptor knowingly surrendered to temptation.
