"What are you doing?"
Kasahara Fumi weakly pushed against his chest with her other hand, her voice frail.
Fujiwara Reya held her right hand with his left, his right arm around her slender waist, gently twirling her. "From today on, my biggest goal in life is to help Xiangxiang fulfill her dream of having sisters marry the sa man. Hahaha—"
"If you keep spouting nonsense, I’ll... I’ll beat you to death."
The threat at this mont sounded more like flirtation, as Kasahara Fumi’s cheeks were flushed with a rosy color.
After spinning a few circles, the woman in his arms suddenly transford. Fujiwara Reya quickly let go and laughed as he fled toward the door.
"You’re dead at—"
Blushing with anger, the white-haired Shiranui shouted at him in a cute but fierce tone.
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Escaping from the room, Fujiwara Reya walked proudly and confidently down the other side of the corridor.
This trip ho not only deepened his bond with Yukino Ritsuko, made Kawashima Miki willingly beco the chief wife, but also revealed the true nature of Kasahara Fumi. How could one not feel smug about that?
The three wives, each beautiful, complented one another.
In terms of figure, Fukaeri was the tallest, followed by Riho, then Miki. Walking together on the street, the three beautiful faces ford a diagonal line, creating a spectacle that one could admire for an entire day.
Speaking of attire, accessories, and character.
The most interesting and charismatic was, of course, Mrs. Miki. Her face was round, features well-defined, body plump and sturdy. She looked elegant in a kimono and capable in a suit.
Mrs. Riho, on the contrary, had a delicate oval face and a slim figure. She was most suited to wear kimonos with floral, bird, and plant designs, her temperant serene like a young lady who had been raised in seclusion.
As for Fukaeri, she always dressed like a governnt official, exuding an aura of an investigator, often appearing radiant. Besides wearing professional attire, the most suitable clothing for her was the kind of luxurious patterned damask clothing worn by nobility. The plain-striped kimono of Tokyo style did not suit her at all.
Being able to marry any one of the three wives would be a dream many n couldn’t realize... Fujiwara Reya felt jubilant and excited, even sowhat tempted to whistle.
Rounding the corridor corner, a familiar figure appeared in sight.
Yukino Ritsuko, wearing a wedding dress, happened to be walking from the other side of the corridor. Her embroidered shoes softly tread on the wooden floor, making no sound.
Hearing footsteps, she turned her head, presenting her beautiful eyes and a beautiful smile.
"Are you here to see the lady?" Fujiwara Reya stepped forward and extended his hand.
"Yes, that’s right." Yukino Ritsuko naturally placed her hand in his palm, "Just now the lady sent a ssage, asking to co over."
"Let’s go together."
Fujiwara Reya held her hand tightly.
Opening the sliding door at the corridor, passing through a curtain, the figures of two goddesses ca into view. Amaterasu, dressed in a n’s kimono, holding a pipe in her mouth, gestured grandly: "Co over and help massage my shoulders."
It was unclear whom she was speaking to.
Yukino Ritsuko instinctively stepped forward, intending to serve her.
"Ignore her," Fujiwara Reya held onto her hand without letting go, directly saying, "You are my wife now, not her maid. Why bother with her?"
Yukino Ritsuko bowed apologetically to the lady.
Amaterasu hooked a finger: "Then you co."
Fujiwara Reya’s body uncontrollably flew forward.
Landing behind her, his hands reached up to her shoulders and began to massage them slowly. All of this was under the control of the supre deity. Fujiwara Reya, while protesting with "Don’t you feel ashad bullying a child?" was forced to serve her.
Despite his words, helping the supre deity massage her shoulders was, in a way, a kind of pleasure. Though there was a kimono layer on the surface, upon touching, it turned out to be rely an illusion, having no substance.
Fujiwara Reya’s hands could directly touch the skin of her shoulders.
After all, she was the supre deity, her every inch of skin guided towards purification’s ultimate direction. Her smooth skin quietly glowed, clear and soft, as if it hid ageless radiant treasure within, vaguely translucent yet sturdy. Whether a few thousand or tens of thousands of years old, the old lady’s skin remained delicate and lively, each wrinkle seemingly washed clean, possessing an indescribable radiant glory.
"Lady," Yukino Ritsuko ca to the side to sit down.
Amaterasu glanced at her, tapped her head with the pipe: "With all the options, you chose this guy."
Yukino Ritsuko, sowhat bashful, weakly replied: "Fujiwara is really good to ..."
"He’s good to all the beautiful won," Amaterasu said with a knowing immortal’s deanor.
Toyosuki no Oomikami added on the side: "At three years old, he already knew how to take advantage while I was holding him."
"Hey, hey, this is slander!" Fujiwara Reya loudly retorted, "Especially you, Amaterasu, Auntie Great Goddess, on the wedding night, stirring up trouble between husband and wife—is this what the ’supre deity’ does... huh?"
Amaterasu’s kimono suddenly vanished.
The supre deity’s delicate body was displayed, perfectly sculpted without flaw.
Fujiwara Reya swallowed hard.
After a glance, he hurriedly turned back to Yukino Ritsuko, showing his determination not to be tempted. However... seeing no change in Yukino Ritsuko’s expression, he looked back at Toyosuki no Oomikami: "Lord Toyosuki... aren’t you going to intervene?"
Toyosuki no Oomikami’s eyes held question marks.
Understood... Fujiwara Reya returned to enjoy his exclusive privilege.
After all, this was most likely an illusion. Looking at an illusion shouldn’t count as cheating in front of Yukino Ritsuko... right? Besides, even if it were real, the bla wasn’t his. If there’s anything to bla, it’s the supre deity herself, whose actions defy ordinary comprehension.
Affection, love, desires, all such things probably do not exist in her perspective.
Just as humans would not consider understanding an ant’s mindset, the supre deity would not concern herself with a little mountain god’s thoughts when he gazed upon her body. Maybe it was re boredom, like humans pouring hot water over an ant’s nest, playing with Fujiwara Reya as she had countless tis before.
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(It’s the end of the month. Please vote, just over a hundred votes to go.)
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