Long Yin’s body slowly leaned down, his face bearing traces of weathering that only enhanced his masculine charm. His expression was calm, but his eyes flickered slightly, revealing the unsteady state of his heart. His shoulders were tense, poised like a predator ready to strike.
However, the thing he was wary of didn’t happen. Jing Hengbo’s body wasn’t tense at all. Instead, she relaxed her shoulders backward and frowned, saying, “If you want to dual-cultivate, then dual-cultivate. Why tie me up? As a man, using such methods to dual-cultivate with a woman—how cowardly must your heart be? Are you really a member of the Long family?”
Long Yin raised an eyebrow, anger flashing in his eyes before he sneered coldly, “You agreed too easily. How can I trust you? Besides, someone reminded me that you’re actually quite cunning.”
Jing Hengbo didn’t ask who that “someone” was. She shrugged and said, “I didn’t agree to dual-cultivate because of you. It’s because I have someone else I love. For his sake, I’m naturally willing.”
Her slightly upturned face was as lustrous and white as jade, complemented by her naturally lazy and seductive expression. In the dim light, she evoked words that best showcased feminine charm: “allure,” “maturity,” “temptress,” “the true flavor of life.” Even someone as wildly ambitious as Long Yin couldn’t help but have his eyes gradually deepen with light, and because of her words, a flash of uncontrollable jealousy and hatred passed through them.
Jealous hatred that some man was held so dear in her heart.
Behind the vanity, a golden gourd-shaped palace lantern swayed leisurely on the beam. Cotton paper was painted with purple grapes—the grapes were particularly large and round, gleaming purple-bright, so bright it was almost strange, making even the candle behind seem dim. Once one’s gaze fixed on that lantern, it was hard to look away.
Long Yin’s mind was somewhat restless and scattered. His gaze casually rested on the lantern for a while. After watching for a moment, he turned back, unable to resist jabbing at her, “As a woman, do you care so little about your chastity?”
“How strange,” Jing Hengbo raised her eyebrows. “On one hand, you force me to dual-cultivate, on the other, you blame me for being loose. What the hell do you think you are, God?”
She suddenly smiled again, lazily narrowing her eyes, “Where I come from, this kind of thing isn’t really anything special. Especially with someone like you—though a bit old, you still have three parts charm as an uncle-level mature man. You still have some market value. Sister dual-cultivating with you once is like going to a club and buying a duck, and it’s free too. Pretty good. Oh, you probably don’t understand what a duck is,” she shrugged, “it’s a male prostitute. Or maybe called a young male attendant? Do you understand now?”
“Insolent!” Long Yin suddenly pressed down on her shoulder. “Who gave you permission to speak to me this way!”
Fury rushed to his head, his breathing became heavy, and his fingers unconsciously pushed down hard, intending to punish her. But he hadn’t expected that Jing Hengbo’s skin had just been washed and was as smooth as jade. When his fingers fell, they automatically slipped down, and with a tearing sound, half of Jing Hengbo’s collar opened.
It was like a bright moon rising in a dark room, clear light appearing in the sky—extreme brightness and brilliance that captured one’s gaze. Long Yin’s eyes fixed downward and could no longer pull away.
He was born into the Long Yin family, where clan members cultivated by revering mental clarity and few desires, remaining unmoved like mountains. Though they didn’t avoid women entirely, it was mostly just for continuing the bloodline. In their eyes, women were merely flesh and skin, nothing more. However, at this moment, the curves and skin before his eyes suddenly made him understand what true feminine beauty was, and what heart-stirring shock beauty could produce.
His heavy breathing became rapid, his fingers couldn’t help but tighten and tighten again, choking Jing Hengbo’s breath. She couldn’t help but cough and choke. He hurriedly released her, actually appearing somewhat bewildered and panicked, like a youth first tasting the flavors of love.
“If we’re going to cultivate, then cultivate. Is this really necessary?” Jing Hengbo coughed and complained, “With my hands tied, how can we manage anything? Do you really have to be so mood-killing?”
Though she was complaining, her tone held no real anger. Speaking softly by his ear was like breathing on him, the slightly fragrant warm air brushing against his earlobe, creating a rustling itch like willow branches swaying gently, or like small hands lightly scratching—seeming to hit the right spot but never quite applying force.
He felt this was a fresh sensation. He wasn’t inexperienced with women, but the women the family found were mostly just for reproduction. Since family members were naturally indifferent and cared nothing for beauty or anything else, the women they found were either plain-looking, or didn’t understand romantic feelings, or had strange temperaments. He had never seen such a beautiful and alluring woman, never imagined that when beauty and allure combined, it was like spring water and gentle waves, like warm breezes in the third month, making one feel—from body to heart to gaze—as if encountering a shower of wine, unable to resist deep intoxication.
The palace lantern swayed leisurely, the purple grapes flickering.
He stared, somewhat dazed and confused, wanting to look away but unable to, unconsciously saying, “Because your power is insufficient and impure, dual cultivation might cause your internal breath to go astray or even cause death. To prevent you from being unable to cooperate due to pain and instead injuring me, I must first restrain you…”
“How could it be like this… Isn’t dual cultivation supposed to be a wonderful thing? It’s not like transferring energy for healing—how could it hurt me? Does it require using internal power? What kind of dual cultivation would that be… Can’t you be gentler with me…” Jing Hengbo breathed against his earlobe, her tongue tip seemingly touching but not quite touching his ear, making Long Yin tremble slightly as if electrified.
“No… it’s not…” Long Yin’s breathing became even more intense. He wasn’t a virgin, but he had never experienced such bold teasing from a woman. This completely new sensation was like an earthquake or landslide to someone who had lived such a life of mental clarity and few desires, opening up a fresh new world. He felt the turbulent changes within his body, like snow rolling up in thousands of piles, ready for shocking waves to crash against the shore.
He leaned down somewhat impatiently, while Jing Hengbo giggled and leaned back, twisting left and right to prevent him from getting close, continuously whispering in his ear, “How is it not like that? How is it? Tell me…”
A faint scent permeated the air, mixed with the sandalwood from the incense burner. The smell was somewhat strange, easily detectable by masters with keen senses, but the current Long Yin could only smell the rose and peony-like rich fragrance from Jing Hengbo’s body—how could he notice any other scents?
“It’s like this… different from the dual cultivation you imagine…” Long Yin’s heart burned with restless fire, yet he also felt his limbs weak and sore, unable to exert strength. If he was a ball of fire, then she was a pile of cool snow before him. He just wanted to pounce over, but seemed frozen by the snow, his hands and feet numb. His heart anxious and restless, he could only pant and lean close to Jing Hengbo’s ear, whispering lowly, “It’s like this…”
His voice gradually lowered, and Jing Hengbo’s small movements also stopped. Long Yin leaned extremely close, but she didn’t push him away, being shocked by what he said, gradually widening her eyes—Holy crap, so this is how they dual-cultivate!
This, this, this, this…
“That’s how it is…” Long Yin panted heavily and bit down on her neck, his teeth about to apply force—
Jing Hengbo suddenly burst into laughter: “Damn, so that’s how it is! This lady finally knows!”
In her laughter, she suddenly kicked both feet backward hard. With a “crack,” the wooden round stool that had extended iron bars to tie her legs suddenly broke into a large piece. Once the stool cracked, the iron bars lost their function. Jing Hengbo’s legs quickly pulled out from the stool. First, she lifted powerfully, her knee going “bang” and hitting squarely on Long Yin’s vital spot.
How could Long Yin have expected that she could break free even with her hands and feet bound? His leaning posture had perfectly presented his vital spot to her. Taking this hit, he couldn’t help but let out an “ow,” emitting a dying-like whimper from his throat, immediately curling up like a large shrimp. Jing Hengbo saw that even his face instantly contorted.
“Aha, so no matter what kind of master, the spongy body is equally fragile.” Jing Hengbo gleefully snapped her fingers and flashed behind Long Yin, reaching out to remove his sword and pressing it against his back.
“Untie the thing on my hands.” She threatened him with the sword, extending her hands to Long Yin. The net on her hands had already sunk into her flesh—clearly not something that could be cut with a knife or sword.
Long Yin gritted his teeth and snorted coldly, intending to ignore her. Jing Hengbo pushed the sword tip downward. Long Yin’s eyes widened in shock—he hadn’t expected this woman to be so ruthless, stabbing without hesitation. He hurriedly reached out, silver-white light flashing from his fingertips, extracting at several key points and untying the net.
After finishing this, sweat rolled down his forehead, showing just how fierce that kick had been.
“Smart of you.” Jing Hengbo casually tucked the net into her bosom.
Above, the palace lantern swayed slightly, and a shadow flipped down. Feifei landed lightly on Jing Hengbo’s shoulder, its purple eyes blinking slowly.
Jing Hengbo affectionately patted its shoulder and praised, “Awesome!”
If the stool could be rigged for Long Yin, it could naturally be tampered with for her too. Her lingering at the vanity wasn’t without purpose—she was playing along with their plan.
She had already cut cracks in the stool with the extending iron bars. A kick inward with both feet would make it fall apart.
Feifei had hidden in the palace lantern above. Behind the grape painting on the lantern were its grape-like eyes. Through a thin layer of paper, it used its mesmerizing technique to stare at Long Yin. Though it couldn’t control him as easily as other animals, making him slightly confused was no problem.
When Long Yin began showing signs of confusion, Feifei sprinkled some urine in the incense burner below. Its urine had once confused an entire hall of ministers, so naturally it would affect Long Yin too. At that time, Long Yin was already disoriented by the honey trap, performing far below his usual standard.
Jing Hengbo cheerfully used the sword to threaten Long Yin, having Feifei help her take out pre-prepared iron chains to bind his hands and feet. Only then did she give him a hard kick on the buttocks, sending him into a face-plant.
“Dare to threaten this lady—here’s a face-plant for you!”
“Smack.” A pitch-black footprint appeared on Long Yin’s snow-white clothing.
“Stop—” Long Yin hissed, “How dare you—”
“I don’t dare…” Jing Hengbo drew out the words, shaking her long sword and leaving only the scabbard. She swung her arm and struck him hard on the back. “Dare to force me to dual-cultivate—here’s a beating for you!”
“Smack.” Another sound, and Long Yin’s back clothing tore, a high red welt rising.
“Don’t hit me!” Long Yin’s voice was grief-stricken. “A gentleman can be killed but not humiliated—”
“A lady can be respected but not violated!” Jing Hengbo spat. “You’re allowed to rob, but I’m not allowed to protect myself? What logic!” She turned the scabbard sideways and gave another hard slap, this time hitting Long Yin’s face.
“Poof.” Long Yin’s face was struck hard against the wall, several teeth flying out, half his face immediately swelling crooked.
“Dare to be named Long Yin! Here’s some flying teeth for you!” Jing Hengbo slapped his face repeatedly. “I get angry just hearing you called Long Yin! I get angry seeing your expression! What the hell are you supposed to be, thinking you deserve the surname Long? Thinking you deserve to be called Yin? Didn’t your mother tell you that if you give yourself too good a name, your fate might not match it!”
She hit Long Yin’s head with the scabbard like playing whack-a-mole. “Match? Match? Match? Bah! Bah! Bah!”
“You… you can’t treat me like this. I might be your friend’s lifesaver, I might be his elder!” Being beaten dizzy with no way to defend himself, Long Yin actually thought of this and shouted with slurred speech, “…Aren’t you afraid he’ll be angry when he returns! You actually dare treat his benefactor and elder like this! Aren’t you afraid of harming him by making him offend the Long family forever, never able to return to his ancestral home!”
“Oh ho ho ho, I’m so scared.” Jing Hengbo looked at him with interest, giggling. “Oh my, I’m scared to death. If this matter gets big, what should I do in the future? I might as well kill to silence you!” She smiled and beckoned to Feifei with her finger. “Sword!”
The little monster fawningly held up the sword and tumbled over. The sword light flickered in Long Yin’s eyes, making him shout in terror, “Don’t! Don’t! Let this matter drop! I won’t tell!”
“Damn it, you say drop it but this sister won’t let it go!” Jing Hengbo grabbed the sword and rubbed it against his face. “Since you bring up this relationship, let me ask you something. You know I have a friend who’s from your Long family? You know the person I care about is your junior? Then have you heard the saying ‘don’t tease a friend’s wife’? You shouldn’t even tease a friend’s wife, yet you have the face to demand dual cultivation with a grandson’s wife? Is this how your Long family operates as noble aristocrats? So dirty it’s worse than a brothel! Oh right, your branch can’t really be considered authentic Long family—just a branch family. Tell me, how can a branch family prevent the main line from returning to their ancestral home?”
Long Yin gasped continuously under her foot, not daring to speak again, afraid that with one tremor of her hand, that sword would ruin his face and incidentally cut his throat.
“Furthermore,” Jing Hengbo dragged the sword back and forth across his face like playing a violin, one foot on his buttocks, looking up at the palace ceiling thoughtfully, “I suddenly wonder, if he really knew that this so-called benefactor of his demanded dual cultivation from me, or even actually dual-cultivated… what would his reaction be?”
Suddenly having an idea, she ignored whatever Long Yin was saying, quickly tied him up tight, gagged his mouth, and shoved him under the bed. She kicked the stool with iron bars to a conspicuous place, messed up the vanity as if someone had struggled over it, then took off her outer garment, leaving only her undergarments, tore her collar, disheveled her hair, and examined herself in the bronze mirror, satisfyingly muttering to herself, “Indeed looks like someone who was… you know…”
She walked to the bedside, looking at the plain bedsheet. Her eyes rolled as she thought—if she’s going to test, might as well test thoroughly. Let’s see just how far Gong Yin, this ancient cold man, could go in respecting and protecting women.
“Hey, Feifei, lend me some blood?” She cheerfully negotiated with Feifei, reluctant to hurt herself.
The little monster without a word burrowed under the bed. After a while, it emerged with a claw full of blood and smeared it on the bedsheet.
Jing Hengbo praised highly: “High intelligence!”
Now, the room was in disarray, she looked disheveled, the bedsheet had blood—everything matched the scene that certain events should have. Only missing a female lead crying pitifully after suffering trauma, and a male lead rushing back in rage.
Jing Hengbo climbed onto the bed, huffing and puffing to build up emotion while muttering, “Don’t know if you can make it back, but my intuition tells me you definitely can return in time, like that someone from Dong Tang, rescuing from a wedding or something… hurry up.”
She rolled around on the bed, studying several types of “humiliated and bullied” painful expressions, pondering the words to say and actions to take. She rehearsed several times with Feifei, feeling her acting skills had reached perfection, worthy of an Oscar.
She rolled around on the bed a few times, propping her chin up to gaze out the window. Gradually, she felt somewhat drowsy, her eyelashes drooping as she fell asleep.
…
Yu Wuse had arranged a side palace for Jing Hengbo as the venue for their “wedding.” Actually, there weren’t many guests—just a few people from the Merchant King’s palace, plus Yélu Qi and Pei Shu, who refused to leave no matter what.
Initially, Long Yin had received Yélu Qi and Pei Shu but hadn’t explained the transaction between himself and Jing Hengbo. He only said he was from the Long Yin family, had some connection with Jing Hengbo, and came at her invitation to help her refine pills and restore her appearance.
This explanation was accepted by Yélu Qi and Pei Shu, while Yu Wuse certainly wouldn’t tell these two the truth. The front hall where they sat wasn’t decorated with red silk or celebratory items—it looked ordinary. Everyone avoided mentioning anything about the so-called “wedding,” while Yu Wuse accompanied Yélu Qi and Pei Shu for tea and casual conversation, his eyes constantly rolling about.
This abnormal state naturally caught Yélu Qi and Pei Shu’s attention. Yélu Qi put down his teacup, glanced at Pei Shu, and Pei Shu casually stood up and walked to the window.
His gaze suddenly focused—through the moon gate, behind a cluster of flowering trees, there seemed to be a patch of red shadow, and at the top of that flowering tree, someone seemed to be hanging.
Pei Shu raised his eyebrow, sensing something amiss. Just as he was about to go out for a closer look, he suddenly heard the sound of sword energy approaching from outside the palace door.
…