I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping Chapter 2273 - 1446: Concubine (Second Update)

The sun hangs high overhead.

Positioned exceptionally high above.

What occurred in the bathroom afterward remains unknown, yet following the bath, the fatigued Miss Fujiwara slipped back into slumber.

Who claims exhaustion afflicts solely men?

If exhaustion spares women, could the positioning have been amiss?

Without doubt.

This activity engages multiple participants in both pleasure and weariness; the difference lies merely in the extent of exertion.

Fujiwara Reiki, utterly spent, entered her predicted state of "hibernation."

With Fujiwara Reiki asleep, Jiang Chen refrained from pressing on; he reclined next to her and descended into dreams alongside.

A serene rest.

One might call it a brief nap.

These past days had stretched Jiang Chen like a coiled bow, demanding a moment to unwind.

The room's disorder went unattended, while two individuals whose paths should never cross shared a bed in complete vulnerability, courtesy of fate's playful twist.

Perfectly reasonable.

Neither acts carelessly; both remain watchful and prudent amid tranquility.

Sunlight poured into the room, bathing the floor, bed, and their faces—both motionless, expressions unified in calm serenity.

Sleep didn't endure long.

Under an hour went by before Fujiwara Reiki stirred first this time.

Staying still, aches from every angle warned that she'd overdone it this round.

Such "strenuousness" proved unnecessary.

She craved that savage thrill of dominance, yet couldn't he temper it with gentleness?

Undeniably so.

Like the ocean's depths, a woman's heart defies prediction and capture.

Fujiwara Reiki ground her teeth, joy mingling with bitterness; her inherently alluring brows and eyes sparkled with unnoticed bliss, as a trace of regret surfaced.

What a shame.

Not complete enough.

Why indulge in alcohol?

If not.

Her carried "natural medicine" would have ensured total fulfillment this time.

Alcohol doesn't always spell disaster, after all—a tiger avoids harming its young.

Regardless of her ferocity, she'd never endanger her child's future.

What if it emerged impaired?

Though aligning with the Imperial Family's recent lineage trends, she refused such an outcome.

Fujiwara Reiki shifted her gaze to the man slumbering nearby; in this instant, utterly exposed, she could claim his life effortlessly if desired.

Having rested a bit and recovered some vigor, Fujiwara Reiki ignored the soreness, extended her hand to trace his cheek, lips, prominent nose... lost in admiration.

Should they have a child.

Would it mirror her or him more?

Either way, it seems fine.

Resembling either would yield fine looks.

"Understand the vigor of Shen Zhou men?"

Any touch would alert him; Jiang Chen's eyes snapped open abruptly.

Boss Jiang overflowed with patriotic zeal and national pride, championing Shen Zhou's male kin even here.

Fujiwara Reiki brushed it off, her refined yet threatening fingers gliding by his eye, replying, "I don’t believe all Shen Zhou men are as formidable as you."

Correct.

Spot on.

How many can battle from dusk through to noon?

No boasting.

Pledge to the heavens.

No.

Pledge to the ancestors.

"Get up."

Though delightful, such lounging demands eventual meals.

Particularly after successive intense, prolonged exertions, sustenance requires restoration.

Hormone scents permeated the air.

Stepping from bed, Jiang Chen discovered her lavish, costly lingerie torn to rags.

"I’ll have someone send over an outfit."

"No need."

Fujiwara Reiki bundled in the quilt, rose to sit, then called out, "Sakura."

Jiang Chen froze, eyes drawn instinctively to the door.

Shortly thereafter.

A form materialized unexpectedly at the bedroom doorway, clutching women's garments.

Entering the bedroom, she overlooked the scantily clad, stunned man and the disarray everywhere.

"Put it down."

Fujiwara Reiki, clutching the quilt, directed nonchalantly.

The enigmatic woman set the clothes at the bed's end, then departed wordlessly, even courteously latching the bedroom door overlooked all night by the pair.

Jiang Chen's features twitched, turning toward the bed,

"She’s called Sakura."

Fujiwara Reiki supplied the info helpfully.

Sakura.

He'd heard it moments ago.

Yet the name held little import.

Crucial instead was.

Her reason for being here—and how long she'd lingered?!

"It’s thanks to her that I got in."

"..."

Ah, that explains it.

"Are you crazy? Aren’t you afraid..."

"She won’t leak secrets."

Fujiwara Reiki cast aside the quilt, baring her stunning physique fully to the air. She rose with graceful poise from the bed, glided to its end, leaned down to collect the garments Sakura had delivered, her alluring curves swaying hypnotically, as she kept explaining: "She’s a Death Warrior trained by the Fujiwara Family, raised there from birth, I’ve known her since I was young, even if she loses her life, she won’t betray me. Before meeting Jiang Sang, Sakura was one of the few people I could completely trust."

That final addition felt utterly superfluous.

Jiang Chen mostly comprehended it, yet something still eluded his full grasp.

"Even if she’s absolutely loyal to you, but...."

Jiang Chen hesitated briefly, then asked outright, "How long has she been outside?!"

Exactly.

Loyalty isn’t the issue here.

Having someone eavesdrop all night—doesn’t that embarrass you?!

Back in Tokyo, Daoist Sister stayed at least beyond the courtyard wall; now, only a thin wall separates them, and the door wasn’t even shut!

Furthermore, she walked in while he wore just boxers.

Disgraceful.

Absolutely disgraceful!

A total blot on the noble prestige of our great nation!

"Perhaps the entire night."

Fujiwara Reiki smiled faintly and remarked, "Is Jiang Sang feeling shy? No worries—Sakura will remain by my side for life, so even if Jiang Sang beds her, I wouldn’t object. Following Shen Zhou’s custom, Jiang Sang could regard Sakura as Li Ji’s concubine."

Why a concubine!

Still basking in the afterglow of his release, Jiang Chen found it laughable. This temptress’s grasp of Shen Zhou culture proves remarkably deep.

"By the way."

Fujiwara Reiki, clutching the clothes, continued, "Sakura ranks as the Fujiwara Family’s premier Death Warrior, destined to become the youngest Upper-level Ninja ever—her flexibility eclipses Li Ji’s entirely."

Fujiwara Reiki’s smile brimmed with tease, her eyes playful, her look profoundly suggestive.

"Does Jiang Sang not yearn to feel what it’s like dominating an Upper-level Ninja?"

Jiang Chen stayed silent, scrambling to grab his clothes.