Cannon Fodder’s Guide to Getting Rich

Chapter 121

Wen Shuangbai did not respond.

She closed her eyes and returned the kiss lightly.

Xie Ziyin stiffened.

He prided himself on being a man of great self-control.

Yet at this moment, his long-held composure shattered completely.

In the next instant, Wen Shuangbai was pinned tightly between his unyielding frame and the cold railing.

He pried open her lips, his tongue delving recklessly into the wine-scented warmth of her mouth.

Dark clouds drifted intermittently across the sky, now veiling the frost-like moonlight, now revealing it again.

The surroundings flickered between shadow and light as their breathing grew heavier.

The deep, intimate kiss sent waves of tingling shivers through her, like an itch being scratched deep beneath the bones. Wen Shuangbai let out a soft, pleasured moan, tilting her fair, jade-like neck as she gazed at him with dazed eyes, surrendering to his touch.

As the kiss deepened, Xie Ziyin’s ears and the corners of his eyes flushed crimson, as if brushed with rouge.

Time slipped away unnoticed.

By the time they parted, it was well past midnight, the world around them hushed save for the distant chirping of birds in the woods.

Xie Ziyin stood by the railing, his robes disheveled.

Wen Shuangbai, comparatively neat, sat perched on the railing, swinging her legs idly as she watched him methodically straighten his clothes. A thought crossed her mind:

Hmm, his abs feel really nice.

His pecs aren’t bad either.

Who knew such a lean man could be so well-built?

Xie Ziyin had already regained his usual composure. He tied his long hair back meticulously, fastened his belt with calm precision, and smoothed out every wrinkle in his robes—even the ones she had clawed at in passion.

There was no trace left of the beast he had been moments ago.

What a pretentious man.

Wen Shuangbai couldn’t help but silently mock him. “You’re the legendary ‘wolf in gentleman’s clothing,’ aren’t you?”

“Thank you for the compliment.” Xie Ziyin, shameless as ever, finished adjusting his robes and extended a hand to her with a half-smile. “Let’s go, you little rogue.”

“Who’re you calling a rogue?” She took his hand and leaped gracefully down from the railing.

Hand in hand, Xie Ziyin led her down the steps of Caiyuan Tower. They wandered aimlessly, watched the sunrise, shared a simple breakfast at a street-side stall, and eventually returned to Endless House.

By afternoon, the trial tower sent by their sect had arrived.

Though every match of the Profound Heaven Grand Competition took place within the Sacred Tower, none of them had ever seen its true form. Upon entry, they were immediately transported into isolated pocket dimensions.

The Sacred Tower was a marvel—capable of plucking entire spaces from the mortal world, along with the people and objects within them, and sealing them away in its void-like expanse.

Five centuries ago, the Seven Sages of Profound Heaven had used this power to contain all cities overrun by spectral horrors, ending that great calamity.

Such wonders were made possible by the arcane arrays housed in the tower’s central spire.

To protect these arrays, the central tower had always been a place of no return—unauthorized entry meant death, even for the reigning Profound Heaven Champions.

Only one circumstance could open its gates:

The final round of the Profound Heaven Grand Competition, when the last remaining disciples would enter the tower to compete.

"Our Qingling Mountain’s Trial Tower naturally cannot compare to the Sacred Tower, but it was modified by our predecessors under its inspiration. Spend these next few days challenging it diligently—it should prove helpful for your final battle."

Standing before the Trial Tower, Xu Jingshu held a scroll in her hand and spoke softly to her disciples. "Though the final battle is called a competition, it is, in truth, an opportunity bestowed upon you young disciples by the Sacred Tower."

"The main tower holds the remains of the Seven Saints from five hundred years ago, as well as many great masters who once dazzled the world. When these masters failed to find suitable successors in their time, they would enter the tower before their deaths, leaving behind legacies for future generations to inherit."

The rules of the Sacred Tower’s final battle were tied to this very principle. The disciple who could first obtain a predecessor’s legacy, ascend the tower at the fastest speed, and claim the sacred banner would be crowned the champion.

The number of sacred stones awarded to the final champion depended on how many fellow disciples from their sect participated in the banner-claiming. The more allies who raised the banner together, the greater the reward.

Currently, Qingling Mountain held the highest number of sacred stones among the three sects. However, if either the Jade Rhino Valley or the Divine Evolution Temple managed to surpass Qingling Mountain in the final battle—with multiple disciples jointly claiming the banner—they could overtake them and seize first place in the Profound Heaven Grand Competition.

Thus, despite their current advantage, Wen Shuangbai and her companions dared not let their guard down.

After all, the Jade Rhino Valley’s uncanny luck was something everyone had witnessed!

Having come this far, the six of them had no intention of letting victory slip away—not even to their brother sect.

Once Pavilion Master Xu opened the Trial Tower, the six immediately began their challenge.

Inside the tower, ferocious demons and spirits lurked at every turn, alongside unpredictable traps and illusions.

Here, victory was no longer a matter of wit—it demanded sheer, unrelenting strength.

If you were strong, you advanced. If you failed, you were beaten bloody and thrown out, forced to start again from the first level.

In the days that followed, the six fell into a relentless cycle: enter the tower, get stuck on a level, endure a brutal beating, stagger out covered in wounds, heal, and then plunge back in…

Trials were meant to temper them through relentless refinement—forging growth through pain, blood, and relentless perseverance.

Through this ordeal, their spiritual meridians grew resilient, and their spiritual power solidified.

Though their cultivation realms showed no immediate leaps, the power within them churned like a raging tide beneath a calm surface—ready to erupt at any moment.

The Sacred Tower’s final battle required each disciple to seek out their own legacy.

Thus, the six challenged the tower alone.

Wen Shuangbai understood: the Profound Heaven Grand Competition tested not only a sect’s teamwork but also each disciple’s ability to stand their ground and carve their own path.

Amidst the grueling training, she rarely saw her teammates—and rarely saw Xie Ziyin.

Most of their time was spent battling through the tower. Only when both were too injured to continue, forced to rest for a day or two, did they steal kisses in secret.

Xie Ziyin usually kissed with restraint—though occasionally, he lost control.

The most reckless moment came on the eve of the final battle.

Kiss after kiss, his lips trailed lower—until they brushed against Wen Shuangbai’s vermilion undergarment, embroidered with the image of a pixiu.

The room was sealed tight, its curtains half-drawn.

In the quietly flickering candlelight, the striking contrast of white and red was mesmerizing.

Xie Ziyin, his forehead damp with sweat and his breathing ragged, leaned down and murmured something indistinct against her lips: "Pixiu?"

Wen Shuangbai clung to his head, her body curled up in trembling pleasure, her breath uneven as she gasped, "Mmm... for... for wealth..."

"..."

After lingering with the "pixiu" for a long while, Xie Ziyin restrained himself from going further. He tucked her in, covered her with the quilt, then quietly dressed and slipped away.

---

The next day, the six of them arrived early at the Sacred Tower, waiting for the final battle to begin.

Wen Shuangbai was chatting with Senior Sister Zhuohua about a particularly difficult beast in the trial tower, exchanging strategies.

Xie Ziyin stood beneath a nearby tree, eyes closed in meditation, while Yin Xuan leaned against the trunk, fast asleep.

Lu Jiayao and Shen Hefeng crouched together, whispering about something unknown.

Suddenly, Shen Hefeng looked up, squinting first at Wen Shuangbai, then at Xie Ziyin. "Wen the Poison Doctor, something’s off with you two! Why do you look more and more alike?"

Wen Shuangbai paused mid-sentence before retorting, "That just means your eyes are failing. Go see Elder Ye and get them checked."

"No, no," Shen Hefeng stroked his nonexistent beard, his mouth running ahead of his brain again. "You two must’ve been secretly dual cultivating!"

"Shut your mouth!" They hadn’t slept together—at most, they’d just kissed a little too much. Wen Shuangbai glared indignantly. "A Taoist like you, always filling his head with such thoughts—how disgraceful!"

Shen Hefeng opened his mouth to argue, but Li Zhuohua silenced him with a sharp glare. "Foolish junior brother," she scolded, exasperated. "At a time like this, you should be focusing on cultivation!"

Wen Shuangbai nodded vigorously beside her. "Exactly, exactly."

Lu Jiayao’s eyes darted between Wen Shuangbai, who was feigning composure, and Xie Ziyin, who stood beneath the tree with a faint smile. He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered to Shen Hefeng, "Brother Shen, I’ll tell you something, but don’t spread it—I’m afraid Shuangbai will hit me..."

"Mhm, mhm, this old man won’t say a word," Shen Hefeng promised—only to immediately blurt out after hearing the secret, "What?! You saw Xie Ziyin coming from—"

Lu Jiayao nearly died of fright, lunging to cover Shen Hefeng’s mouth.

Shen Hefeng: "Mmph—mmph mmph!!"

"The Sacred Tower is open," Xie Ziyin suddenly announced.

Li Zhuohua’s attention snapped to the tower, her eyes lighting up. With a commanding wave, she led the charge. "Let’s go, go, go!"

For this final battle, Qingling Mountain was determined to claim victory!