220 - Destroyer of Ice and Fire

"......" "Then tell me, is it my fault for being beautiful? They all write me those corny love poems. I...I just smiled at them a few times, that's all. I really didn't do anything with them." "......" Cen Ran still did not lift her head. He Lan Mian Mian couldn't care less that Cen Ran's hands were still covered in flour. She grabbed Cen Ran's hands directly and, with a forceful turn, pinned her against the countertop, leaning over to press Cen Ran against the kitchen table. "Impudence. Have you forgotten who taught you your skills?" Cen Ran replied coldly. He Lan Mian Mian brought her lips dangerously close to Cen Ran's ear and laughed, "I haven't forgotten, Sister Cen Ran. It's you who always ignores me. How long has it been since you came to see me? Do you not miss me at all? Hmm?" There was a glint of coldness in Cen Ran's eyes, and a trace of sadness as well: "He Lan Mian Mian, don't be so impudent anymore." He Lan Mian Mian bit Cen Ran's earlobe, licking and biting as she spoke indistinctly, "You still don't believe me." Cen Ran's face reddened on one side, and she turned her head to avoid He Lan Mian Mian's intimacy: "Believe you? Believe what? That you can stop being so ostentatious, stop flirting with others, or that you, a proud princess of the royal family, can give me any kind of future?" "I like you. I told you a year ago, I like you." He Lan Mian Mian turned her head, seriously looking into Cen Ran's eyes. "How many people have you liked?" Cen Ran averted her gaze and raised her hand, gently pushing He Lan Mian Mian away. He Lan Mian Mian held Cen Ran tighter with one hand and grabbed Cen Ran's chin with the other, kissing her fiercely. Cen Ran did not resist, nor did she respond, as if indulging a misbehaving child. He Lan Mian Mian bit Cen Ran's soft lips, as if she wanted to swallow them. She ravaged Cen Ran's lips, biting until they almost bled, yet she didn't stop. The sight of two stunning beauties entangled in a passionate kiss in the kitchen could make anyone's heart race, the air thick with an erotic fervor. Finally, Cen Ran pushed He Lan Mian Mian away. Her lips, swollen and moist from the kiss, looked like delicate petals damp with dew. "Are you still angry?" He Lan Mian Mian asked breathlessly, cautiously. Cen Ran tidied her disheveled clothes, her expression softening. After a long pause, she spoke: "Have you eaten?" He Lan Mian Mian's eyes lit up with delight, and she quickly answered, "Not yet." "Sit down, I'll make some noodles for you." Cen Ran put down the dumpling work in her hands, wiped her hands, and moved to the stove to start cooking. He Lan Mian Mian obediently sat down, savoring the memory of Cen Ran's soft lips, smiling: "Sister Cen Ran, you really are suited to be a wife." Cen Ran responded calmly, "Yes, always cleaning up after a husband who likes to cause trouble." He Lan Mian Mian blushed but seemed quite pleased with the comparison, continuing: "Actually, you know, I just enjoy interacting with people. My true affection is for you. Sister Cen Ran, why don't you marry me?" "That won't be possible. Stop dreaming." Cen Ran was seven years older than He Lan Mian Mian. Her thoughts were far more mature and wouldn't entertain such jokes. "Then how about you marry me? Dress as a man, I'll bring you back to the royal capital and have Father confer you as my consort." He Lan Mian Mian joked. "Impossible. If you want a consort, pick anyone from Hong Fei Pavilion." Cen Ran said indifferently. He Lan Mian Mian stood up, hugging Cen Ran from behind, whispering in her ear: "I don't want anyone else...I only want you...Marry me..." Cen Ran blushed again but kept tending to the noodles in the pot, remaining silent. Ning Song Wu and Luo Sheng decided to go write couplets first, leaving the kitchen to Cen Ran. Luo Sheng was just in the middle of writing a couplet when He Lan Mian Mian came running to Yong Ku Pavilion, leaving the couplet half-finished. When he and Ning Song Wu returned, they found Ran Fan Yin sitting in his place, examining a stack of red paper. Ning Song Wu couldn't help but smile, "Master, can't you take a break? Running around all the time, you just have to find something to do?" Ran Fan Yin glanced at her briefly and said indifferently, "Are the dumplings wrapped?" "Yes, we wrapped some. We even put some copper coins in them this year; let's see who has the luck to get them." Ning Song Wu laughed. Ran Fan Yin pointed at the half-written couplet on the table, "Zi Sheng, is this your writing?" Luo Sheng nodded hurriedly, "Yes, I just wrote the upper couplet, and then He Lan Mian Mian came over..." "You write well," Ran Fan Yin praised, nodding approvingly. "Ning Song Wu, write the lower couplet." Ning Song Wu raised an eyebrow slightly, looking at the upper part of the couplet, which read: "The door welcomes joy, joy welcomes the door." She smiled and, deciding to write a palindrome couplet, stepped forward, took the brush, and on another piece of red paper wrote: "The house fills with spring, spring fills the house." Luo Sheng laughed, "Ning Song Wu, your literary style is as mediocre as always, not novel at all." "Senior Brother, your upper couplet isn't exactly groundbreaking either," Ning Song Wu snorted, "Besides, it's the New Year. It's fitting for things to be a bit gaudy." Ran Fan Yin said, "Ning Song Wu is right." Luo Sheng muttered grudgingly, "You all gang up on me...bully me..." Ran Fan Yin ignored Luo Sheng's complaints, picked up a piece of red paper, took the brush from Ning Song Wu's hands, and with a smirk at Ning Song Wu, wrote the horizontal inscription: "A Lifetime of Ning Song Wu" The characters were forceful and vigorous, the strokes thick and dominating, befitting the writing of the grand master of Northern Punishment. "A lifetime of Ning Song Wu..." Ning Song Wu murmured the four words to herself, feeling as if a ray of sunlight had warmed her heart just by saying them. Ran Fan Yin put down the brush, seemingly satisfied with his articulation: "Put it up over the doorway." Ning Song Wu carefully picked up the piece of red paper, meticulously examining the beautiful calligraphy. After a long while, she said, "Master, how about I keep this one and you write another?"