Cute girls are fragrant and soft.
As a firsthand experiencer, An Zhen was uniquely qualified to make this statement.
Little Yu Tong's "snowy treats" were plump and soft, more comfortable than the finest fabric. Having trained harder than most due to her low innate talent, Huo Yutong's foot muscles were remarkably elastic—a delight to massage.
As for Wang Dong...
The peerless beauty was the standard of perfection. Every curve embodied youthful grace. Her "snowy treats" were exquisite artworks—treasures one feared to drop or dissolve.
"Does An Zhen-ge know why Yu Tong disguised herself as a boy?" The little cutie in his arms—now using his requested term of endearment—blushed adorably. Her white-socked feet, freshly re-equipped, twitched as he tickled their soles.
"Typically three reasons: First, a young mistress's curiosity. Second, male identity eases certain tasks. Third, hiding from someone—gender is the ultimate disguise besides changing species."
"Mm."
She tilted her head back, eyes overflowing with devotion. She wanted to share her secret.
"Actually, my enemy—"
Mirrored An Zhen's memories.
The venomous White Tiger Duchess.
Fearful of discovery, the cautious girl had maintained her male disguise since leaving the Duke's manor.
"Cry if you need to. Little Yu Tong still has me—I'm your family now."
"An Zhen-ge..."
After comforting the girl until she calmed, An Zhen asked, "Yu Tong didn't tell Bei Bei?"
"No." She shook her head softly—she'd only mentioned "unspoken difficulties."
"I see."
A thought shifted the socks away. Translucent white tights now sheathed Huo Yutong's slender calves. A finger traced a graceful arc from heel to calf.
"Caution is wise, but Shrek Academy is safe."
In the original tale, Dai Huabin's mother saw them as ants—tormenting them for amusement when convenient. When the "ants" fled? She didn't pursue. Even when Huo Yuhao crushed Dai Huabin later, he never recognized the "ant" beneath his boot.
And when Dai Huabin sent assassins? They struck outside the academy.
"Time to cultivate."
"Mm."
Huo Yutong wondered—Wang Dong said Blackwater Pills boosted innate soul power by one rank. Would her cultivation speed improve?
An Zhen's fingers lingered regretfully on her soft skin.
Guests require hospitality.
The pair settled cross-legged on the bed to meditate.
An invisible barrier enveloped them. A figure appeared beside the sleeping Wang Dong.
It was An Zhen.
The one cultivating with Huo Yutong was also An Zhen.
Like a分身 (fēnshēn—doppelganger), yet sharing one consciousness. If he could replicate Ma Xiaotao, replicating himself was trivial.
This doppelganger's purpose? Cultivate. Later, he'd use his first soul skill—Reflect—to transfer its gains to his main body.
Since when was cultivation so inconvenient?
Long lashes fluttered. Serene features gained vivid expression as dreamlike eyes slowly opened. The peerless beauty looked dazed.
"This is... An Zhen's dorm?"
Recognizing the morning's surroundings, she froze—then bolted upright.
Why was she here?
She'd begun meditating after Huo Yutong. Yet now...
Her gaze landed on the figure beside her.
"An Zhen!"
"Eek!"
White-socked feet scrambled back. She tumbled onto the bed, skirt cushioning her fall. Only then did Wang Dong notice her attire—a strapless dress and thigh-high white stockings.
"What's happening?"
Slender fingers touched her face. Her disguise was gone—replaced by flowing long hair.
"Consider this a dreamscape. One I control."
The boy seated bedside spoke calmly.
"So you did this!"
"I thought the young mistress had deduced it."
"What do you want?" She retreated to the corner, wary.
"You."
Wang Dong: ?
Slowly, crimson bloomed from her neck to her cheeks.
"An Zhen! I misjudged you!"
Jade-white fingers pointed accusingly. "How could you betray Yu Tong?!"
"You scoundrel!"
"Baseless accusations," An Zhen sighed. If anyone's betrayed, it's Meng Hongchen first.
"Then explain this! My presence! These clothes!"
Arms crossed, mist clouding her dreamlike eyes. A sour ache filled her chest.
She'd felt guilty earlier! Wanted to make amends! Yet he'd schemed all along—even changed her clothes! Wuwuwu... her purity was gone!
"Consider this: this body isn't yours."
"Huh?!"
Tears halted. Her dazed eyes locked on him.
Snap!
An Zhen summoned an identical figure beside Wang Dong—short-haired, male-garbed, with pink-blue hair and eyes.
"Precisely. Here, everything but your consciousness belongs to me—crafted by my will."
Snap!
Under her stunned gaze, the dress morphed into a white tee and shorts, revealing toned thighs. White socks and sneakers completed the sporty look.
"That's how your clothes changed. As for your presence? Likely because you're special."
Like Huo Yutong—Daughter of Fortune.
As Tang San's daughter—half of Tang Wutong—Wang Dong was undoubtedly unique.
The virtual world, gradually unlocking its authorities, had "swallowed" one beneficial to this realm.
"This young lady is special!"
Pride returned. No trace remained of her earlier tears.
"So... only my consciousness is here? My body remains in my dorm?"
"Mn. Hence 'dreamscape.'" Unless reflected, all here was illusion—save memories.
"Affects reality?"
"Only if I use my first soul skill to selectively materialize it. Otherwise, no."
"So that's how you beat that turtle?"
"Mn."
The beauty leaned close, curiosity sparkling.
"Miss Wang, maintain distance. Honor your friend."
An Zhen retreated a step.
"I do honor Yu Tong!" Blushing, she countered. "But why does this body feel identical?"
"One-to-one replica. Organs included."
"Then you did take liberties!" He'd seen everything! Her toned leg stomped the bed—as if crushing him beneath it.
"Unacceptable."
Wang Dong shook her head, silken hair swaying.
"Return me to reality. Let me pummel you. For Yu Tong's sake... I'll spare your life."
Tears spent, fury simmered. Her earlier goodwill—shattered. Even if not her body, its identicalness made her feel like his puppet.
An Zhen said nothing. His gaze shifted to the consciousness-less Wang Dong replica.
"Cultivate. Meditate."
The short-haired girl sat cross-legged, soul power circulating.
"Cultivate here. Later, I'll Reflect the gains onto the original." Palms supporting his chin, he smiled at the awed Wang Dong. "Shall I send you back? I'll apologize properly later."
"Wait."
Long legs closed the distance. Pink-blue eyes shone eagerly. "An Zhen... I've always considered you a good friend."
Checkmate.
What did Wang Dong crave?
Fun.
Twin Martial Souls. Haotian Sect resources. With minimal effort, she'd have surpassed Dai Huabin and Ning Tian's third-ring achievements long ago. Yet she loathed cultivation—even whale glue, a body-tempering treasure, earned a "disgusting" verdict.
"So... my good friend... may I touch your thigh?"
Dark eyes fixed on her flawless skin. A phrase surfaced unbidden:
"Good brother, touch my leg."
(End of Chapter)