Xuan Yi bit through the tip of her tongue and exhaled a breath. A layer of gauze-like thin mist suddenly rose around her entire body, gently but irresistibly shaking him off with great force.

Dense Zhuyin snow fell like a curtain. Within the radius where the snow fell was the Zhuyin Clan’s forbidden ground. Anyone who entered, no matter who they were, would be frozen into ice. In lighter cases, they would be unable to move and all techniques would be useless. In severe cases, dying on the spot was not uncommon.

She truly hadn’t expected that Shao Yi could even break free from the Zhuyin snow. Was it because of the Qingyang Clan, or was it because of those two phoenix heart feathers?

Shao Yi slowly stood up. Through the curtain of snow, he squinted at her.

Again, it was a gaze she had never seen from him before—its meaning unclear. It seemed calculating, yet also seemed to contain myriad emotions, and carried the sinister air of one who had lost a battle.

After a moment, this deep and complex gaze gradually disappeared, transforming into his usual warm expression. Shao Yi dusted the grass from his body and exhaled, smiling gently: “I’ve really been tormented terribly.”

He turned and slowly walked a few steps. Xuan Yi then said coldly: “Running away again?”

Shao Yi turned his head with a slight bitter smile: “Do you really want me to act like a brute?”

The wind and snow began to spread, black clouds enveloped the mountain hollow, and the verdant bodhi tree was rapidly submerged by accumulated snow. Xuan Yi said in a sinister tone: “You brought me here, wasn’t it to discipline me and see how my cultivation was progressing? If even the Zhuyin snow can’t freeze you, why do you still need to run? Let me see what other methods the Qingyang Clan has!”

He was always like this—only speaking half his words, only doing things halfway. He threatened with her life yet seemed to want to wash his hands of the matter. He was even more willful than she was—how could she tolerate another person being so capricious toward her!

A thin layer of snow had also accumulated on Shao Yi’s shoulders, his long hair tangled together with the blizzard. He quietly watched those churning black clouds of Zhuyin darkness. The three words “Zhuyin Clan” were truly like these black clouds, covering his sky. This clan had always been thus—willful and reckless, arrogant and conceited, never showing the slightest concern, wantonly displaying all their sharpness.

His voice was indifferent: “Little mudfish, all the methods of the Qingyang Clan are intimately connected with the Zhuyin Clan. You are the sword, and the Qingyang Clan is the scabbard. Our two clans once were inseparable from each other. So my methods cannot truly harm you, and you cannot deal with me. I don’t want to remain deadlocked with you here for a lifetime.”

His long sleeve swept out, and golden light overflowed from his palm, transforming into a paper umbrella painted with flowers and birds. Several beams of brilliant sunlight scattered down from the void beneath the black clouds, falling precisely upon the paper umbrella. Holding the umbrella and trailing several wisps of sunlight, he walked steadily through the blizzard as if strolling leisurely through a courtyard.

“Cultivate well. I’ll always be watching.”

Always watching—and if dissatisfied, coming out again to discipline her? Xuan Yi stared at his back for a moment, then raised her hand to withdraw the blizzard.

Her radiant, graceful figure suddenly appeared beside him, following his every step. She looked up and asked: “What grudges did our two clans have in the past?”

Shao Yi smiled faintly, his gaze falling upon her face: “How would I know? I only know that if there were no discord between our two clans, by our generation, nine times out of ten you would have to marry me.”

Xuan Yi frowned in surprise: “That sounds quite detestable.”

Shao Yi’s voice was light and clear: “I’m also quite glad that our two clans now have discord.”

Xuan Yi smiled: “Senior Brother Shao Yi, you’ve endured the torture of the five senses, yet you still refuse to tell me anything. Are you planning to never tell me?”

It was better when she didn’t mention it. As soon as she did, he recalled those tortures from earlier and couldn’t help but feel his throat tighten. She really was a demoness.

He replied casually: “How about if you dual cultivate yin and yang with me once, then I’ll tell you?”

Xuan Yi still smiled: “Alright. Right here?”

Shao Yi drew in a breath and couldn’t help but suddenly stop in his tracks, saying in a low voice: “I didn’t hear wrong, did I?”

She didn’t speak, nor did she use any of her endlessly varied methods to torment him again. She stood motionless across from him. Shao Yi couldn’t help but grip her shoulders. He really couldn’t figure out what she was thinking—he very rarely found himself in such a situation.

His gaze flowed from her neck to her porcelain-pale face, lingering long upon her full lips, sliding down along her slender shoulders, and appraising her willowy waist.

His hand was slowly tightening, yet his expression was exactly the opposite. His brows knitted together, then he quickly released his hand and forcefully pushed her away from himself.

Xuan Yi didn’t seem surprised at all. Her brows arched slightly: “Don’t want to? Then forget it.”

Shao Yi looked at the mockery hidden in her gaze, and her posture of turning to leave as soon as he refused—was she testing his attitude? Or was she simply mocking him? Had she seen through the fact that he actually had no intention of entangling with her in that way? This goddess skilled at manipulation had first played Fucang from head to toe, and now it was his turn. Before him, she always mustered one hundred percent of her cunning and difficult nature. She was truly driving him mad.

“I can’t think of any methods to deal with you right now, Senior Brother Shao Yi,” Xuan Yi said as she floated away for a bit, waving her hand at him. “You’ve won.”

A violent wind arose, and tree leaves and grass mixed with dust flew about. Xuan Yi covered her hair, about to ride the wind upward, when a hand gently rested on her shoulder.

She turned her head to meet Shao Yi’s warm, smiling phoenix eyes. He sighed deeply: “I really can’t resist you. Very well, I’ll tell you. I need you to do something very difficult for me. I’m just afraid you won’t agree, so I had no choice but not to sever the heart feather binding. You must intensify your cultivation, otherwise after completing this task, I’m afraid you might lose your little life.”

Xuan Yi was displeased: “What is this very difficult thing?”

The wind grew stronger and stronger. The fresh green branches and leaves on the bodhi tree were blown about chaotically. Shao Yi’s eyelashes lowered as he smiled lightly: “I’ve already answered what you asked before. Now I want you to dual cultivate yin and yang with me. As for this latter question, it depends on whether you can make me interested one more time.”

He gently caressed the curve of her long hair falling, hooked around her waist at its most slender, concave part, drawing her body into his embrace. He bent down to draw close to her full lips, but his chin was immediately blocked by an ice-cold hand.

Shao Yi gazed at her equally cold eyes, his voice very low: “Going back on your word?”

Xuan Yi bit through the tip of her tongue and was about to exhale an ice barrier to push him away, but her mouth was covered by his hand. Then a great force shoved her hard to the ground. Shao Yi pressed his body down upon her, looking down at her from above: “You really are quite capable.”

Her skin like snow and porcelain, her face just beginning to show allure—she was truly a feast for the eyes. He no longer needed to feel regret. That she could repeatedly provoke his anger to this extent—she truly was not simple.

Dense ice blades cut across his cheeks and shoulders. He remained unmoved, one hand covering her mouth while the other slowly and methodically unfastened her garment ties one by one, unhurried and refined, as if greeting each tie, and after the greeting, using his fingers to tear it apart.

An ice blade with bone-chilling coldness suddenly pressed against his back near his heart. Shao Yi’s motion of unfastening ties finally stopped. He slowly asked: “Why not stab it in?”

Would someone as utterly selfish as her not care about her own life?

With a “snap,” another garment tie broke. Looking at her cold eyes and feeling the ice blade on his back that wouldn’t pierce through no matter what, Shao Yi let out a low laugh: “Speaking of which, we really are the same kind.”

As soon as he saw her in the Mingxing Palace, he had known—the same selfishness and cold indifference, considering only themselves in almost everything. So this ice blade would absolutely never stab through. Over twenty thousand years had passed, and her methods had also advanced considerably. That little mudfish whose heart ailment had relapsed over Fucang was merely a withered leaf in the cracks of long years. To dispel loneliness, finding someone of the same kind was best.

Shao Yi lifted her left leg to hook it over his arm, his fingertip sliding across the leg binding, breaking the restraint. He lowered his head to kiss her slender calf, when suddenly the ice blade pressed against his back at his heart stabbed in without hesitation. He leaned to the side, and the sharp ice blade instantly pierced through the right side of his chest. Several drops of crimson divine blood fell upon Xuan Yi’s pale face, and cold sweat immediately covered her forehead.

His brows knitted tightly as his gaze intersected with hers. Her eyes seemed to be saying: Who is the same kind as you?