I Kissed My Archrival, and the Cold Chief Secretary Lost Control!

“Kiss him! That’s the pure Yang energy of a once-in-a-lifetime catch. One taste will keep you going!”

The System drooled and shrieked frantically inside her head.

To stay alive, Song Zhiyin pounced on Shen Lingshen, the present-day chief minister, in front of everyone. He was disciplined and proper, as cold as snow, but she planted two fierce kisses on his jade-like lips.

Shen Lingshen’s gaze was cold enough to pierce bone. The prayer beads between his fingers trembled as he gritted his teeth and scolded her. “Have you no shame?”

But no one knew that every night, this ascetic chief minister was tormented by absurd dreams. In them, Song Zhiyin was slender and graceful, with skin like ice and bones like jade. His rough, broad hand gripped her delicate waist, narrow enough to fit in one hand. He sank deeper and deeper into the mire of his dreams, watching the corners of her eyes grow damp and rosy as she melted in his arms like spring water.

He thought she was in love with her half-brother, so all he could do was dip his calligraphy brush into vermilion ink in his study, using the scent of ink to suppress the possessiveness threatening to burst forth.

Until the truth came to light: the so-called “elopement” had been nothing but a farce.

That night, desire surged.

Shen Lingshen’s hand clamped around the back of her delicate neck like an iron vise. His hot, ragged breath washed over her nape as he rasped, “Weren’t you so bold before? You provoked me, Your Chancellor, hmm?”