Clearly, this garment was never intended for a woman with a figure like Sister Lan Yan's—a fact further evidenced by the thong between her hips, which was stretched so taut it had become little more than a thin, strained line.
Sister Lan Yan's backside… it was simply massive. With her tall stature and near-perfect proportions—honed by long-term physical training—her buttocks were remarkably full and rounded, possessing that broad, pear-shaped, curvaceous quality.
While most women might have a gap of only two or three fingers' width between their thighs, the space between Sister Lan Yan's legs was wide enough to accommodate a small, clenched fist.
Her thighs—firm, rounded, and smooth as jade pillars, entirely free of excess fat—merged with her voluptuous, rounded buttocks to create a look that was both strikingly beautiful and powerfully toned. Nestled between her thighs was a plump, prominent vulva, forming a distinct, fleshy inverted triangle; the mons pubis was even more rounded and pronounced than her lower abdomen.
The labia majora traced the inner lines of her thighs, carving out a sharp "V" shape. Yet, at the base of this "V," rather than tapering to a point, the flesh was full, swollen, and cleft—reminiscent of a ripe, succulent peach.
The tips of the labia majora were slightly distended and parted, yet held tightly together, revealing a delicate, soft peach-pink hue—much like two thick, snow-white, fleshy mounds pressed firmly against one another. With every slight movement of her strong, toned, and lean thighs, her plump, succulent labia—soft and rich as cream—would press and shift against one another, writhing as they "swallowed" the folds of her clothing. This made it nearly impossible for Lan Yan to wear any pair of trousers without them inevitably revealing a distinct "camel toe."
In fact, as far as he knew, this was precisely why Lan Yan never wore underwear when heading into battle; if she did, the fabric would be shredded into ribbons by her labia after only a few steps.
Consequently, a thong—which might have fit another woman perfectly—looked as though it were stretched to the point of snapping across her ample backside. The vertical strap was wedged deep between her lush, swollen labia, which resembled the succulent, fleshy meat of an oyster.
Lan Yan's shapely, long, and rounded legs continued to rub rhythmically back and forth.
This caused the strap—already buried deep between her honeyed folds—to darken in color; it looked as if it were being gradually saturated by some fluid, the dampness spreading outward as the fabric drank it in.
Li Dong also noticed a faint flush creeping across Lan Yan's lovely face. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her nostrils flared slightly—she appeared to be... in a state of sexual arousal.
What was going on?
He recalled seeing his uncle, back in the Black District, inject a vial of an unknown, crimson-red liquid directly into Lan Yan's... clitoris.
Could the effects still be lingering? Li Dong's heart tightened. Setting aside any concerns about their immediate situation, he reached out to help Tang Lan Yan to her feet. Her skin felt hot to the touch, and as he steadied her, his hands met the sensation of her waist—smooth as if dusted with powder, yet firm and taut. Sister Lan Yan's beautiful legs instinctively wrapped themselves around him.
Beneath her purple sheer nightgown, her breasts—rounded, pert, and shaped like the abdomens of bees—pressed firmly against the fabric, their erect nipples pushing the material outward.
Further down, the striking contrast between her full, prominent curves and the deep, slender dip of her waist created an incomparable silhouette. Her legs, spread wide, were long, shapely, and perfectly toned; the firm, rounded muscles at the tops of her thighs made the mound between them appear all the more lush and full.
Moreover, Sister Lan Yan's body still held a hint of dampness, and her hair was only half-dry—as if she had just finished washing it—releasing a delicate, pleasant fragrance. Her skin, fresh and radiant, glowed with a soft, rosy flush against its natural, porcelain-white complexion.
Li Dong, however, noticed that he himself was completely dry—a detail that left him somewhat puzzled.
"Sister Lan Yan… wake up!"
Li Dong tried to rouse her; she was clearly not in her right mind, acting seemingly on pure instinct alone.
Perhaps his call had an effect, for Tang Lanyan suddenly opened her eyes—though they were clouded with a misty, hazy look, brimming with an intense, restless desire.
She tightened her grip with her shapely legs, to the point where Li Dong felt his waist going numb. He realized, too, that he couldn't access his *zhenqi* (internal energy) at the moment; relying solely on his physical strength, he was powerless against the crushing force of her embrace.
In a moment of desperation, he leaned in and pressed his lips against her slightly parted, crimson mouth.
He recalled the unforgettable, soul-stirring kiss they had shared in the middle of the ocean—a passionate, life-defying embrace that transcended the very boundary between life and death. He would never forget it, and he was certain that Lanyan would never forget it either.
"Mmm... *slurp*... *smack*..."
Their lips fused together in a lingering, deeply intimate kiss. Their tongues, like two fish that had finally found their long-lost mates, entwined with burning intensity, as if yearning to melt into one another.
As their lips met, Tang Lanyan instantly grew calm. The kiss stretched on—who knows for how long? They clung to each other, their body heat surging back and forth, until a fine sheen of sweat broke out across their skin.
Had anyone burst into the room at that moment, they would have witnessed two lithe, powerful bodies locked in a tight, face-to-face embrace—as if each sought to merge completely into the other. Their skin glistened, slick with sweat that caught the light like shimmering crystals.