Luo Luo was pinned down on the bed by Li Zhaoye, kissed until her head spun.
He learned everything with frightening speed.
Every time he practiced sword techniques, he mastered them after just one glance—effortlessly executing each move and even improvising variations.
Kissing was no exception.
His demeanor was domineering, his movements practiced. After plundering her lips with deep, possessive kisses, he lingered close, his voice a low, intoxicating murmur against the corner of her mouth.
He said he was going to start guessing.
He hovered so near, deliberately stealing every breath she exhaled, leaving her too flustered to gasp. Her breathing grew erratic, her heartbeat wild.
He’d looked, touched, kissed—so what came next?
"I guess…"
He drew closer with deliberate slowness, his cool, hard teeth grazing her lip as if by accident.
Then he suddenly laughed, his voice teasing. "A hug?"
Luo Luo’s heart skipped.
After all that intensity—his posture screaming he’d devour her whole—he only asked for a hug?
She nodded quickly.
Li Zhaoye’s smile deepened.
With one hand, he tugged open his robe, then draped himself over her, enveloping her completely. Bracing an arm beside her head, he idly combed his fingers through her hair.
It was so tender—so unlike the Li Zhaoye she knew.
Luo Luo blinked up at him, startled, only for her gaze to be captured by his.
He arched a brow, tilted his head, and nuzzled her with his nose. His lean fingers tangled in her hair as his lips descended again.
Between slow, teasing kisses, a large hand slid beneath her back.
Luo Luo made a questioning sound—only for Li Zhaoye to bite her lip in reprimand. No distractions during kisses.
"Mmm…"
His tongue swept in, parting her lips, seeking hers. He teased, tangled, his mouth and breath overwhelming her senses.
The wet, heated sounds of their kisses drowned out the rustle of fabric.
Luo Luo had no resistance against him.
Dazed, she obeyed the pressure of his palm, arching her shoulders, back, waist—
Then cold air hit her skin.
Her eyes flew open just in time to see him yank her robe free and toss it to the foot of the bed.
Exposed, she shivered.
Before she could react, Li Zhaoye stripped off his own robe and flung it aside, then pulled her flush against him.
His body was hard, burning.
Luo Luo froze.
Breathless, she finally managed a dazed whisper: "Why did we take our robes off?"
Li Zhaoye answered without hesitation: "How else would we hug?"
Luo Luo opened her mouth—then closed it.
Since when did hugs require nudity?
He arched a brow. "Well? Hug me."
Demonstrating, he slid one arm diagonally across her back, the other hooking her shoulders and neck. He gave her a little squeeze, urging her to follow suit.
"Hurry up."
Trapped, Luo Luo gingerly wrapped her arms around his waist.
Her pulse raced, each frantic beat echoing against the firm planes of his chest.
He dipped his head, his gaze dark and smoldering, his smirk downright wicked. "Relax. We still have our underclothes."
Luo Luo: "?!"
He watched, fascinated, as her blush spread—from her cheeks to her ears, down her neck and collarbones, like a mist of rose-gold heat.
His eyes tracked its path.
Further down, she refused to let him look.
Except… her method of hiding was to press herself tighter against him.
What kind of desperate, clumsy logic was that?
Amused, Li Zhaoye chuckled, low and delighted.
Flustered, Luo Luo glared and pinched his waist in retaliation.
His muscles were too lean, too hard. Her futile efforts only made him laugh harder.
When his laughter faded, he rested his forehead against hers.
The gesture should’ve been tender—but his presence was too intense, too charged with aggression and hunger to ignore.
Every time his gaze dropped to her lips, it carried a weight that made her shudder. She could feel how badly he wanted to kiss her, bite her.
Yet for some reason, he held back.
The air around him was thick with suppressed tension, a storm barely contained. It made her heart pound.
He stared into her eyes like a predator savoring its catch, though his voice was deceptively light: "Should I keep guessing?"
Luo Luo’s breath hitched. The room felt devoid of oxygen—he’d stolen it all.
Even without kissing her, the atmosphere was electrifying.
She mustered a weak protest: "...Maybe stop guessing?"
He leaned back slightly, smiling. "Fine."
She hadn’t expected him to yield so easily. Bewildered, she blinked up at him, her confusion mirrored in his dark eyes.
He said, "Then you tell me."
Luo Luo: "Huh?"
"What do you want next?"
His body was unyielding, his arms locking her in place. She had no escape.
Her lips parted soundlessly.
What else could she possibly want?
They were already tangled together in bed, skin to skin, breath to breath. They’d kissed—what more was there?
Her fingertips unconsciously flexed against his waist, lightly scratching.
His scent, his heat, his everything invaded her thoughts.
A tingling numbness spread through her. Cornered, she blurted the truth: "We can’t do that here anyway!"
Li Zhaoye: "..."
Luo Luo doubled down: "If we’re doing that, it has to be in the soulscape! Not here! Here isn’t—we can’t—and you’re still—"
Li Zhaoye silenced her with a searing kiss.
Luo Luo: "Mmph—!"
His tongue claimed hers while a rough hand roamed freely.
Calloused fingers skimmed soft skin, leaving trails of fire.
"Ah—!"
Her heartbeat was at his mercy. Gone was any pretense of gentleness—he devoured her, ruthless as a starving beast.
The sheets twisted beneath them.
When he finally allowed her a gasp of air, she whimpered against his lips: "Your hands… too rough…"
His grip on her waist paused.
A low, breathless laugh. "This is rough?"
"Yes."
"Just wait."
"What?"
He swallowed her protest with another kiss.
Night deepened. The newly installed lotus-shaped spirit lamp in Luo Luo’s chamber glowed softly, its light pooling across the bed, casting intertwined shadows on the wooden panels.
Li Zhaoye bit her lower lip.
One hand slipped beneath the covers.
The last piece of fabric was roughly torn away by him. Luo Luo, caught off guard, widened her eyes with a gasp: "Mmph!"
His hand!
His hand!
He chuckled lowly, his tongue flicking out to deftly pry open the seam of her lips and part her teeth.
Beneath the quilt, his calloused hand launched an identical assault.
A loud "buzz" echoed in Luo Luo's mind as her heart pounded wildly, threatening to leap out of her chest.
Her lips trembled uncontrollably.
Soft as petals, they stood no chance against his relentless advance.
Luo Luo curled her knees, but it was already too late.
Trapped in his embrace, her hands clutched at his wrists, pushing weakly in futile resistance as she sank deeper into his grasp.
"Li Zhaoye..."
Her whimper was swallowed whole by his mouth.
Bamboo Chamber.
Xu Junzhu awoke from her meditation.
Reaching out absently, she found her bonded sword missing.
"Huh?"
Before entering meditation, she had clearly placed Qingnü Wushuang flat before her—so where had it gone?
Instinctively, she formed a sword-summoning seal.
"Buzz—"
Before the sword could respond, she sensed a faint resistance.
With a thought, Xu Junzhu halted the summoning, withdrew the seal, and strode out of the bamboo chamber.
The sight outside made her lips twitch violently as she pressed a hand to her forehead.
Of course. The only person who could approach her during meditation and silently spirit away Qingnü Wushuang was Xu Junlan.
Xu Junlan had "stolen" the sword and enshrined it on an octagonal golden-lacquer altar in the outer hall.
A crowd had gathered around it.
People had brought fine wine and dishes, standing or sitting as they chattered at the sword.
"Elder Sect Master, this is your favorite chicken breast! Hehe, I noticed—every time you reach out, it's always for this!"
"Who knew the Elder Sect Master had a sweet tooth for wine? We brewed this batch with an extra half-pound of honey! Smell that—sweeter than nectar!"
"We picked these chives from your winter plot on Dongjun Ridge! They’re thriving! Master, wake up soon so we can stir-fry them with eggs!"
"And roast chicken! Nothing beats digging one fresh out of the clay!"
"Elder Sect Master, we’re only missing you here!"
Xu Junzhu walked forward expressionlessly.
The crowd fell silent, exchanging uneasy glances.
"Uh... Senior Sister," Zhao Yu scratched his head awkwardly. "We were just, you know..."
Ignoring them, the senior sister parted the crowd, retrieved Qingnü Wushuang with a clear "clang," and strode away, leaving a frosty silence in her wake.
"Oh no, Senior Sister is furious."
"I told you not to dabble in superstitions! Now who’s going to cheer her up?"
"Who started this? Who said food would lure the Sect Master back? Look what you’ve done!"
"It’s your fault! You said Senior Sister would be meditating forever..."
The chaotic blame game faded behind Xu Junzhu as she carried the sword to a secluded spot.
After a pause, she cradled it vertically against her chest and murmured,
"If you awaken, you’ll be a baby sword spirit. Babies shouldn’t eat greasy food or drink alcohol. Those people are bad influences—ignore them, understand?"
Qingnü Wushuang: "Buzz."
Xu Junzhu pressed her lips together. "When you wake up, tell me first. Remember that."
Qingnü Wushuang: "Buzz."
With a stern addition, she warned, "Or I won’t let you play with Qiushui Changtian."
Qingnü Wushuang: "Clang-buzz!"
Xu Junzhu nodded. "Deal."
She turned toward Luo Luo’s pavilion.
Dawn’s duck-egg blue light filtered through the lattice windows.
The lotus lamps in the loft dimmed one by one, yet the room’s lingering warmth refused to fade.
Luo Luo lay back on the pillow, gasping for air.
She lacked even the strength to curse him as a "bastard."
Her raven hair sprawled wildly, every strand glistening with fine sweat.
She felt like a fish stranded ashore—each time nearing death, only to be pulled back from the brink.
Li Zhaoye hadn’t bothered restraining her hands.
No matter how she pushed, clawed, or scratched, nothing halted the movements of his calloused fingers.
By midnight, he’d mapped her thoroughly, learning to pluck her strings with ease—drawing fractured jade-like whimpers as she arched helplessly.
He leaned in to capture her quivering lips.
Between panting breaths, he nipped her lower lip, voice gravelly with amusement: "Still claim to feel nothing?"
Luo Luo: "..."
Too spent for retorts or glares, she could only shoot him a watery sidelong glance.
He shifted higher, whispering raw praise by her ear.
Instantly, the bedchamber flooded with heady sweetness.
One hand sought hers, interlacing their fingers against the pillow.
Boneless with exhaustion, her grip was slack as melted wax.
Li Zhaoye squeezed hard, kissing her while his other hand resumed its misdeeds—charting every tremor from her fingertips outward.
Her keening cries vanished into his mouth.
A vein throbbed at his temple, restraint stretched to breaking, yet he refused compromise.
Having known her truth, he’d never settle for less.
That idle hand would rather anchor itself to hers.
"Ah...!"
Luo Luo collapsed onto the pillows once more, dazed.
She stared blankly as his lips curled into a smug, roguish grin.
Finally, he withdrew.
Spotting his still-rigid hand, her cheeks burned—she yearned to rip it off and hurl it out the window.
He hovered by her ear.
"What’s wrong with you?" he teased hoarsely. "So sweet it’s lethal."
Luo Luo: "..."
Flustered beyond words, her gaze darted downward—landing on his throat.
As he spoke against the pillow, his sculpted neck and sharp Adam’s apple nearly grazed her lips.
Compelled by some madness, she sank her teeth into it.
Before thought caught up, her mouth had claimed him.
Instinct made her scrape lightly over his throat.
Li Zhaoye froze.
His eyes snapped wide, staring down at her in shock.
There she lay—damp hair clinging to flushed cheeks, honeyed breath everywhere, those petal-soft lips fastened to his neck while her pearly teeth... savaged his Adam’s apple.
His body, already wound taut, short-circuited at the assault.
A white flash obliterated his mind.
"Ghk—"
Luo Luo couldn’t fathom why Li Zhaoye had fled again.
After reducing her to ruin, he’d acted the aggrieved party—snatching his robe haphazardly before teleporting away.
"Bang—"
The wooden doors swayed in the morning breeze.
Abruptly, he reappeared—back turned—to shut them firmly, barring the chill from entering.
"Bang!"
This time, he really ran off.
Luo Luo blinked in confusion.
She tried to get up but winced as soreness shot through her body.
Biting her lip, she cursed that bastard in her mind eight hundred times over.
His teasing laughter still echoed in her ears, each word more blush-inducing than the last.
Just hearing it again made her flustered—how could he keep saying such things all night?
No wonder even mosquitoes couldn’t pierce his thick skin.
As she silently cursed him, the wooden door creaked open. Li Zhaoye strode in, swiftly wrapping her in the bedding before carrying her toward the hot spring pool behind the pavilion.
Luo Luo glanced up at him, spotting the faint bite mark still lingering on his throat. Unable to help herself, she curved her lips and giggled.
"Laughing?" He glared down at her.
She nuzzled into his chest, hiding her face.
He was already impeccably dressed, his usual warmth and scent now concealed beneath layers of robes—looking every bit the composed gentleman. Almost ascetic, even.
"Xu Junzhu is waiting outside," he said, lowering her into the spring. "Come out on your own when you're done."
Heat rushed to Luo Luo’s cheeks again.
She could still smell the sweet, lingering traces of last night on her skin—anyone who saw her would know exactly what she’d been up to.
Embarrassed, she ducked her head underwater.
"Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle."
A stream of bubbles escaped her lips.
By the time Luo Luo returned to her pavilion, Li Zhaoye had already tidied up the bed.
At least he had some shame—he hadn’t invited Xu Junzhu inside, opting instead to brew tea in the outer hall like nothing had happened.
Luo Luo: "…"
Where had he even found tea leaves?
"Senior Brother, Junior Sister," Xu Junzhu placed Qingnü Wushuang on the table. "After my breakthrough to the Nascent Soul stage, my sword has also gained power."
She hesitated slightly, her lips pressing together.
Luo Luo’s eyes lit up. "Could it be?!"
"Indeed." Xu Junzhu nodded. "I sense a faint spiritual presence within it. Just now…"
She paused, then continued softly, "Zhao Yu and the others jokingly offered it food as an offering. When I summoned it, I felt resistance—as if it didn’t want to return."
Luo Luo gasped. "It wants to eat!"
Li Zhaoye chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Swords don’t have mouths. What would it eat?"
"I’ve never heard of a divine sword developing a spirit before," Xu Junzhu murmured, running her fingers along the blade, her expression uncertain.
Luo Luo grinned. "But this is Qingnü Wushuang! It’s different!"
Master Lingxue’s Qingnü Sword and Xu Junzhu’s Wushuang had always been sister blades. By fate’s design, they merged into one, becoming the dual-colored sword before them.
Luo Luo studied Xu Junzhu’s face, noticing the faint worry in her eyes.
"Senior Sister?"
Xu Junzhu snapped out of her thoughts, forcing a smile. "It’s nothing. Do you and Senior Brother have anything urgent to attend to? Would you be free to resume training in the illusion realm?"
Luo Luo coughed awkwardly. "Of course! What could we possibly have to do? Haha!"
"Good."
Xu Junzhu stepped into the illusion realm first.
Li Zhaoye caught Luo Luo’s wrist. "Hey."
She feigned nonchalance. "Hmm?"
"Don’t focus too much on that sword," he said.
Luo Luo frowned. "Why? Isn’t it about to manifest a spirit?"
"Little fool." He tapped her forehead. "What if the spirit isn’t who you think it is?"
Luo Luo gasped in realization. "Oh—so that’s what Senior Sister is worried about."
Qingnü Sword had been Master Lingxue’s lifebound weapon, resonating with her essence.
Before her death, Master Lingxue had burned her soul, pouring her remaining power into the blade and passing it to Xu Junzhu.
Naturally, everyone hoped the emerging spirit would be Master Lingxue reborn.
But wishes didn’t always come true.
"I understand now."
Under the silvery moonlight, pear blossoms drifted like snow.
After some time apart, the ice and fire duo had each gained new insights.
Their sparring session was exhilarating—multiple times, Luo Luo felt her nascent soul tremble, sensing the threshold of a breakthrough.
But she wasn’t in a hurry.
Learning from her Golden Core experience, she decided to hold back longer, aiming for another perfect-grade Nascent Soul.
Last night… well, that didn’t count… right?
She was still technically a pure maiden, after all.
Glancing back, she saw Li Zhaoye perched on the pavilion roof, meticulously unraveling the seal lines with his left hand. Time didn’t pass in the illusion realm, and after prolonged effort, the entire structure was smeared with blood, turning it into a crimson tower.
Xu Junzhu unleashed a tidal wave of frost toward Luo Luo, casually asking, "His right hand must be injured—he barely uses it. Is it serious?"
Luo Luo: "…"
Oh, she knew exactly how "injured" Li Zhaoye’s right hand was!
Distracted, she reacted too slowly—the icy onslaught buried her completely.
"Cough! Cough!"
Xu Junzhu stared in disbelief. "Was I that strong?"
From beneath the snow pile, Luo Luo’s head popped out sheepishly.
"Junior Sister, are you alright?"
"Haha." Luo Luo forced a laugh. "Snow may bury me for years, but I’ll laugh it off like cotton. Hahaha."
Xu Junzhu: "…Haha."
Exhausted, they had Li Zhaoye summon the Nether Maiden to play with the spider.
Forced to consume the Divine Lord’s brain multiple times, the creature was listless, barely clinging to life.
The ice and fire swords poked and prodded at it.
Xu Junzhu frowned. "Are you sure this helps with its indigestion?"
Luo Luo: "Probably?"
The spider flopped onto its back, legs trembling.
"…"
Xu Junzhu massaged her temples. "Xu Junlan used to keep spiders. I’ll fetch her spirit jade box—it might help restore this one."
"Xu Junlan raised spiders?"
"Yes. She wanted to scare you with a huge one, but it disappeared somehow."
Luo Luo slowly turned to Li Zhaoye. "That crispy spider leg you roasted?"
Li Zhaoye smirked. "Heh."
While Xu Junlan fetched the jade box, Li Zhaoye slung an arm around Luo Luo’s shoulders and crushed a phantom soul jade.
Luo Luo: "?!"
The illusion realm swallowed them instantly. He pinned her beneath the pear tree, stripping her robes with practiced ease.
"Make it quick."
No preamble—straight to the point.
He kissed her deeply, his tongue claiming her mouth as his hands roamed.
Breaths tangled, hearts racing.
Now experienced, Li Zhaoye moved with confidence. He teased her lips, coaxing her to relax before pressing forward with a low groan.
She was no longer unresponsive.
A soft gasp escaped her, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
Pleased, he smirked against her mouth.
He remembered her sweetness, the way she yielded to him—though the memories were hazy, the craving had taken root.
He kissed the corner of her lips, patient now, savoring every sigh and shiver.
Soon, Luo Luo’s eyes glazed over, her cheeks flushed.
Tears welled, breaths turned ragged.
In the haze of his dazed gaze, the smirk at the corner of Li Zhaoye's lips was both smug and dazzling.
He quickly grew reckless.
Amid the swirling pear blossoms drifting endlessly in disarray, he pinned her in his embrace, his madness mirroring last night’s frenzy.
Luo Luo’s breath came in ragged gasps as she lowered her head, pressing her forehead against his chin.
She hid her face, refusing to let him see.
With great effort, she managed a breathless whisper, "Eldest Senior Sister… will be back soon…"
Li Zhaoye chuckled lowly. "We have time."
Swiftly, he moved, tilting her chin up with his fingers to lock eyes with her.
He didn’t need to look to know when her gaze would go vacant—but he looked anyway.
The dignity he’d once lost, he was determined to reclaim with his own hands.
"Well?" he teased, deliberately provoking her between ragged breaths. "Still saying you feel nothing?"
Luo Luo: "…"
Amid his arrogant laughter, the fingers clutching his shoulders slackened weakly.
Li Zhaoye was unbearably pleased with himself.
Nipping at the corner of her lips, he bragged, "Now you know what I’m capable of!"
Luo Luo: "…"
That thing—just like his fingers—was a point of pride for him.
