Luo Luo had recently grown fearful of encountering Li Zhaoye.
Within three sentences, he would inevitably coax her onto the bed, and then it would be endless.
She could barely walk straight.
"Li Zhaoye!" Luo Luo scolded him. "You used to have nothing but sword techniques and cultivation methods on your mind. Look at you now!"
Li Zhaoye didn’t blush in the slightest. "That’s not true. I was always thinking about you."
Luo Luo was caught off guard by his casual sweet talk, her ears turning red.
While she was still dazed, Li Zhaoye decisively grabbed her and hauled her back onto the bed.
The bed was soon a scene of unrestrained passion.
Amid the fluttering bed curtains, intermittent, fragmented sounds escaped.
"Gentler, gentler."
"It won’t break, don’t worry!"
"I can’t take anymore..."
"You won’t die!"
"Li Zhaoye, you weren’t like this before."
"What was I like before?"
"At least you used to act human."
"And now?" He chuckled darkly. "Now I’m just a dog."
His movements grew even wilder and more relentless. As he thrust deeply, he leaned close to her ear, his voice low and teasing.
"A dog—insatiably—lusting—after—you—day—and—night!"
Luo Luo: "..."
He’d said it all. What else was there for her to add?
The bastard had finally entered a rare, saintly state of abstinence.
Luo Luo leaned against him, her fingers weakly resting on his body, her fingertips brushing against his firm, sculpted muscles.
She knew all too well the terrifying explosive power they held.
Her back ached, her legs were sore, and her bones felt like they’d been rattled apart by him.
With one arm draped around her, he lazily stroked her hair.
"Li Zhaoye." Luo Luo nuzzled against him. "Do you remember when I first came up the mountain?"
She was keeping him talking—anything to distract him from getting restless and horny again.
Li Zhaoye laughed. "How could I forget? You were such a little fool."
When Luo Luo first arrived on the mountain, everything fascinated her.
Having grown up in a small village, she had never seen such grand palaces or such exquisite pavilions and towers.
Not to mention the dazzlingly intricate formations.
Li Zhaoye, walking beside her, found her wide-eyed gasps unbearably noisy.
He couldn’t resist flicking her forehead. "No shame. It’s just some run-down mountain and shabby buildings. Look at them—peeling paint everywhere, completely ordinary!"
Luo Luo didn’t dare argue with this grumpy senior brother. She nodded obediently. "Oh."
Qing Xu, walking ahead, turned and pointed sternly. "Stay put in Mirror Twin Peak unless you have business elsewhere. No wandering around!"
Luo Luo immediately stood at attention. "Yes, Master!"
Li Zhaoye burst out laughing.
Somehow, he’d ended up picking up a little fool.
But he soon stopped laughing—Qing Xu was hands-off, and the responsibility of looking after Luo Luo crashed squarely onto Li Zhaoye’s shoulders.
Li Zhaoye was speechless.
"Wait, you want me to teach her what?"
"Figure it out yourself!"
"Where is she supposed to live?"
"Figure it out yourself!"
"What’s she going to eat?"
"I said figure it out yourself!"
Li Zhaoye: "..."
He wasn’t much older than her, and now he had to babysit?
Grumbling, he turned around—only to see Luo Luo staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes, docile as a rabbit.
His anger instantly evaporated.
He’d seen her ferocious side before. She wasn’t just any rabbit—she was the kind that would bite a demon’s head off.
Seeing this fierce little creature acting so meek left him utterly disarmed.
"Fine... whatever." He jerked his chin. "Follow me!"
Luo Luo nodded. "Okay!"
He settled her in Radiant Pavilion—the old man had once said that if he ever took in a second disciple, they’d live here, and their name would follow the pavilion’s.
Casually, he asked, "If you didn’t have the surname Luo, what would you want to be called?"
Luo Luo was baffled. "But I am Luo."
The young Li Zhaoye huffed. "Hypothetically!"
Luo Luo thought hard. "...Then I’d still be Luo."
Li Zhaoye scowled. "Anything but Luo!"
Startled by his temper, she stammered, "Then... how about Qian?"
Who didn’t need money?
Li Zhaoye: "Tch."
Qian Radiant—what a name!
He patted her head. "Good thing you already have one."
Luo Luo: "..."
Her senior brother’s brain seemed a bit faulty.
Once she was settled, Li Zhaoye wasted no time leaving.
After practicing sword forms for a while, he suddenly remembered her existence and hurried back to Radiant Pavilion—only to find her bowing politely to a wooden puppet servant.
The puppet had a set routine. When Luo Luo bowed, it bowed back.
Seeing it return the gesture, she bowed again, prompting the puppet to do the same.
She’d spent the entire afternoon doing nothing but exchanging bows with the thing at the pavilion’s entrance.
Li Zhaoye: "..."
Even two wooden puppets stacked together wouldn’t be this dumb.
After a long pause, he burst into laughter, doubling over.
Qing Xu made sporadic appearances.
The most reliable way to summon him was with roast chicken—especially one wrapped in three layers of lotus leaves.
Every time he showed up, he’d lament his misfortunes. "That damned nun is at it again, turning everyone against me! All the other peaks get spirit stones, while we get nothing—listen well, you two. Train hard. One day, you’ll avenge me and crush all those who look down on us!"
Luo Luo, righteous fury burning in her heart, nodded earnestly. "Yes, Master! I’ll practice at least eight hours every day!"
Qing Xu sighed. "Eight hours... passable, I suppose. I hear those snobs under that damned nun train for ten hours or more."
Luo Luo gasped. "Master, I’ll work even harder!"
"Good." Qing Xu waved weakly. "This old man’s life is already set, but you youngsters... if you want to mingle with those outsiders who despise me, go ahead. I’m used to being alone anyway..."
Luo Luo panicked. "Master, don’t worry! We won’t even speak to them!"
Li Zhaoye smirked. "Look down on us? Beat the crap out of them!"
Li Zhaoye gradually developed a habit—turning to check for Luo Luo.
And a new catchphrase: "Keep up, keep up!"
The fool got distracted by everything. One careless moment, and she’d vanish.
Eventually, Li Zhaoye gave up dragging her to the training grounds. Instead, he practiced swordplay in the clearing outside her pavilion.
Ten hours of relentless drills.
Luo Luo’s body ached so much she could barely move. The moment she set her sword down, she wanted to collapse right there and sleep.
But Li Zhaoye would march her to the small waterfall behind the pavilion to bathe.
To ensure she didn’t slack off, he stood guard—though on the first day, when he tried to watch, Qing Xu materialized out of nowhere, grabbed his ear, and scolded him senseless.
Li Zhaoye only then realized that men and women were different—little junior sister Luo Luo couldn't be watched while bathing.
What a hassle.
Later, he would wait for her outside the waterfall, making sure she wasn’t slacking off.
Luo Luo was already exhausted, and after bathing, she was so drained she could barely lift her eyelids.
Sometimes she’d fall asleep while walking.
Just before she toppled over, Li Zhaoye would catch her by the waist and haul her back to the pavilion.
She slept like the dead, too worn out to even dream.
The next day, before dawn, he’d drag her out of bed again—back to training.
Day after day.
Occasionally, Luo Luo would miss her parents and hide away to cry.
He’d always let her sob for a while. If she stopped on her own, fine. But if she worked herself into a real fit, he’d tap her head with his sword and give her a good thrashing.
He’d beat her until she forgot her sorrow, then haul her off to bathe.
If that didn’t work, he’d take her to steal chickens.
Chicken-stealing was thrilling—enough to chase any gloom to the ends of the earth.
And so, Luo Luo found a new home.
It might sound a little sentimental, but to her, Li Zhaoye back then was like a blazing light barging into her life, leaving no corner unlit.
Li Zhaoye first noticed Luo Luo had grown up because she smelled sweet.
He realized she carried a new fragrance—something fresh and delicate, like flowers or honey.
After paying attention for a few days, he confirmed it: the faint milky scent and sweat of childhood were gone, replaced by the perfume of a young woman.
Those chaotic, muddled dreams of his suddenly sharpened.
With mischief in his eyes, he sniffed her hair and accused her of hoarding some secret treasure.
Luo Luo was baffled.
Her soap was the same as his!
Unconvinced, he "inspected" her little waterfall hideout and pocketed her soap.
"Definitely different," he declared.
Her soap had absorbed her scent.
He’d been holding back the urge to take her for ages.
When the tension became unbearable, he’d recite sword forms and cultivation mantras, forcing himself to cool down.
When Luo Luo learned the truth, she was stunned. "So every time you recited mantras in front of me, it was…?"
Li Zhaoye smirked. "Every time."
Luo Luo: "Heh."
He leaned in, trapping her in his arms, and nudged her nose with his. "Behave."
Luo Luo: "Oh…"
She tilted her face up and kissed his thin lips.
She adored him.
His arrogance, his dominance, the way he filled every inch of her—body and soul.
During the final battle, the sword spirit of Qingnü Wushuang briefly awakened.
But after that fight, it fell silent again, without a trace of life.
Everyone tried every remedy imaginable—Luo Luo even generously offered Qing Xu’s birth chart—but nothing worked.
Li Zhaoye seemed thoughtful.
He tapped Luo Luo’s head. "Hey, guess what."
Luo Luo: "What?"
Li Zhaoye: "Back when the Sage crossed over from the other side of the wormhole—"
"Wait," Luo Luo interrupted, "what wormhole?"
She understood he meant the Yellow Springs passage connecting their worlds, but she’d never heard him use that term before.
Li Zhaoye clicked his tongue. "Think of an apple. A worm bores straight through it, right? The hole connects both ends."
Luo Luo nodded. "Yeah."
Li Zhaoye: "Going through the wormhole is way faster than going around the skin, right?"
Luo Luo: "Right."
Li Zhaoye: "So, that’s the wormhole."
Luo Luo nodded obediently.
She had a feeling this wasn’t his own invention—probably something from the Sage.
She prompted him: "The Sage came through the wormhole, and then?"
Li Zhaoye: "He arrived as a corpse."
Luo Luo knew this. The Sage had used his dying wish to send his body through the wormhole to destroy the source of calamity—her world.
Li Zhaoye continued: "Those three idiots followed and gave their lives to stop the corpse."
Luo Luo: "…"
His phrasing was crude, but accurate.
"Then," Li Zhaoye raised a brow, "how did the legend of the Three Ancient Lords spread?"
Luo Luo froze. "…Good point."
The Sage was dead. The three lords died immediately after arriving.
So how did the tale of their sacrifice survive?
After a pause, she gasped and stared at him. "You know?!"
He countered: "You don’t?"
Luo Luo admitted: "I don’t!"
She grabbed his arm, shaking it excitedly. "Tell me, tell me, tell me!"
Li Zhaoye tilted his head. "Walk and talk."
Luo Luo instantly stuck to him like a shadow, eager for answers.
He pulled a blackened object from his qiankun pouch.
Luo Luo recognized it instantly: "The inkstone!"
Li Zhaoye, now a master of seals, summoned golden threads with a flick of his fingers, binding the inkstone like a crab.
"Play with it," he said.
Luo Luo sensed something and cast a soul spell.
A vision unfolded:
Hongmeng Jun cultivated soul arts. His divine artifact—the inkstone, or rather, the Verdant Inkstone—had birthed a spirit.
After its master’s death, the Verdant Inkstone preserved a wisp of his soul and sent it into reincarnation.
With its last power, it cast a grand illusion, displaying the Three Lords’ deeds to the world so they’d be remembered—and so it could absorb the soul energy it needed.
The Verdant Inkstone did everything right.
Except for one tiny problem: this world had no soul cultivators.
So… the poor inkstone was ignored.
While the Taiyi Sword and Moonwheel Halberd became legendary, the black inkstone faded into oblivion.
After eons of silence, it finally gathered enough soul energy to possess a minor demon.
Together, the inkstone and demon struggled to survive, eventually becoming the dreaded Void Nightmare.
Luo Luo gasped. "No wonder its powers felt familiar!"
Meanwhile, Qing Xu used the souls from Chen Xuanyi’s massacre to begin his cultivation. The Verdant Inkstone sensed its master’s reincarnation and rushed to reunite—only to clash with Daojun Qin Wuyi, nearly perishing together.
Luo Luo finally understood: "So Qing Xu targeted Chen Xuanyi not just for their past ties at Southwind Pavilion—he needed Chen Xuanyi to get close to Qin Wuyi."
Qing Xu succeeded.
He and Chen Xuanyi "shared" Qin Wuyi, reclaiming his own life-bound divine artifact.
Luo Luo murmured absently, "Elder Lingxue respected no one more than the former sect master, Daoist Qin Wuyi."
She exchanged a glance with Li Zhaoye before both turned their gaze to the ink box in their hands.
"Let's enshrine this thing next to Qingnü Wushuang!"
"The sword spirit will definitely leap out and beat it up!"
"Waste not, want not—brilliant idea!"
