The white datura swirled endlessly alongside the demon-repelling incense. Rong Chen Zi’s vitality had been severely depleted, and he could no longer resist at all. He was by nature a man of few desires — in truth, there was genuinely very little wickedness hidden in his heart.

The Great Clam thought for a long time and still felt that an opportunity like this should not be missed — you can’t catch a fish without bait! She turned back onto the bed, gazing at Rong Chen Zi’s reddened eyes, her voice very soft and gentle: “You stinking Daoist — are you trying to take liberties with me?”

Rong Chen Zi still retained his reason. He Bang was cautious and had used only the barest trace of soul-capture art, but Rong Chen Zi was already at the very end of his strength — how could he possibly withstand her seduction? He lunged at her like a wild beast, and five fingers swept aside her white feathered robe.

The moment his hand touched that warm, smooth skin, his reason collapsed like a breach in a levee, rushing out in a torrent for a thousand li.

The Great Clam, truth be told, had accumulated quite a few years. When it came to eating, this creature was absolutely an expert. Over the years she had eaten every delicacy the sea had to offer — the Eastern Sea, the Southern Sea, the Caribbean Sea — there was nothing she had not eaten. So much so that whenever the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea held any kind of event, he absolutely never invited her — too expensive to feed.

After arriving on land, conditions were far more limited. While she had not eaten a great many things, she had worked her way through everything Qingxu Temple had to offer.

Because so very much of her time had been spent eating, and one cannot be expert in all things at once, she was genuinely quite ignorant of other matters — such as the pleasures between men and women.

And so, when she touched that formidable weapon, this Clam was still very much in a state of perplexity: “Old Daoist, is this what humans call the instrument of procreation?”

Rong Chen Zi parted her legs, his voice thick in his throat: “Mm.”

He Bang reached out and took hold of it. She had a request: “Wow, I need to see this!”

Rong Chen Zi could not get a single word out. His face was so red it seemed about to seep blood. He forcefully pushed He Bang’s hand aside, shifted his hips forward — and He Bang let out a cry of pain.

Her body was inherently soft and easily injured, having spent her entire life inside a shell — extraordinarily sensitive at all times, unable to endure even wind or sunlight. So this Clam had always been afraid of pain. How could she possibly withstand such a forceful initial advance from Rong Chen Zi!

And furthermore, a clam’s method of reproduction was nowhere near this complicated. She had absolutely no idea what was happening! All she knew was that in the human world, if a man did this to a woman, the man owed that woman responsibility!

“What in the—!” She still did not understand why that thing kept pressing against the space between her thighs and continuing to push inward, but it hurt. She reached down and grabbed the object — intending to figure out what it was. “Rong Chen Zi, why do you keep pressing against me there?”

Rong Chen Zi had no way of giving her a lesson right now — he could barely manage himself. He pressed forward again, and the thing finally achieved a partial entry. He Bang finally understood, achieving a moment of complete enlightenment. And then she let out a sharp scream and kicked Rong Chen Zi away with full force.

Rong Chen Zi gripped her jade-like ankles and dragged her back beneath him. This Clam frantically cast a Body-Fixing Curse — that fierce and fearsome thing, how could it possibly fit in there? Damn humans for even thinking of such a thing!

But Rong Chen Zi paid no heed. At such close range, any magical technique required time to execute. His eyes blazing red like a lion, he suddenly seized He Bang’s hand and interrupted the technique she was only halfway through casting. He Bang was, after all, the Sea Sovereign — she had seen great storms and great waves. Brute force was not working, so she smiled forcefully and tried to negotiate with Rong Chen Zi: “Could we… do it somewhere else? Or use the mouth? I think my mouth is bigger than that place…”

Needless to say, Rong Chen Zi would not accept such a compromise. The process was harrowing. The Great Clam wept until her face was streaming with tears, cursing Rong Chen Zi between sobs. Rong Chen Zi moved in and out relentlessly — his heart in hell, his body in paradise.

The Great Clam raked his back with her nails until it was covered in wounds. The pain gave him a fragment of clarity. He sliced open his wrist, then pressed the wound against He Bang’s lips. He Bang naturally did not stand on ceremony and immediately parted her lips to drink. With something good to eat, this foodie began to calm down. Her body still ached, but the meat was genuinely delicious.

The Great Clam wanted to cry and yet could not bear to open her mouth wide. In the end she decided — yes, finish eating first, then cry.

…

Rong Chen Zi’s sweat dripped onto her face, each thrust using every last ounce of his strength. The Clam felt as though an iron rod was churning inside her, as if all her internal organs had shifted out of place. She wept as she sucked on the wound at Rong Chen Zi’s wrist, and between her sobs she thought to herself: “In any case, that particular piece of meat — I am absolutely not eating it when I eat the rest of him later!”

Rong Chen Zi slept for four full hours. When he woke, every muscle in his body ached. His consciousness had remained clear throughout, so naturally he knew what had happened. He rose and tidied his clothing and appearance, then his very first act was to search for the Great Clam.

He Bang was not in the room. He stepped outside and encountered Qingsu. Qingsu had barely called out “Master” before he cut her off: “Have you seen that Clam?”

Qingsu nodded: “She came out in the afternoon and has been soaking in the water vat in the dining hall. Senior Brother gave instructions, and everyone was afraid to drive her out.”

Rong Chen Zi walked briskly to the dining hall and sure enough found her transformed into her Great Clam form, soaking in a stone water vat. Milky white matter floated on the clear water surface. Rong Chen Zi naturally knew what it was — when his consciousness failed him he could not control himself. His vital essence had converted to impure essence, and after years of cultivating as a Daoist while keeping his original Yang energy intact, yesterday had been his sword’s first unsheathing — an inevitable overflow had accumulated.

Even his neck had flushed red. He bent down and gently lifted the Clam out. The disciples also noticed today that their Zhiguan seemed somehow different — though they could not quite put their finger on what was different…

Rong Chen Zi carried He Bang back to his sleeping quarters. Qingxuan was very perceptive — he immediately brought food and drink over, but this time did not dare walk straight in. He coughed loudly from a great distance, continuing to cough all the way up to the door before finally knocking.

Rong Chen Zi gave a light cough and let him in. He pushed open the door and saw that He Bang had already resumed her human form, one jade-like leg resting across his Master’s leg while his Master sat on the edge of the bed, gently applying medicine to that smooth and fair ankle.

Qingxuan did not allow himself even a second glance, immediately setting out the food and dishes on the table: “Master, your meal is ready.”

Rong Chen Zi gave a slight nod. Qingxuan fled — though of course he did not forget to close the door behind him on his way out.

The fragrance of the food drifted through the room. Rong Chen Zi burned a Daoist evil-repelling talisman, dissolved it in a cup of water mixed with rock sugar, and offered it to He Bang. He Bang would not drink it — when she was in pain she could not eat. Since the moment he had entered the room, Rong Chen Zi had not spoken a single word. He naturally knew methods for pain relief, but the injury being in that particular location…

His face carried a strange flush. After a moment he finally spoke: “Eat something first.”

The tone of his voice held an awkward tenderness.

He Bang turned her head aside and still refused to drink the talisman water. Her body was far too delicate — even minor injuries and minor pains lingered for a long time before healing, let alone the storm Rong Chen Zi had put her through. Rong Chen Zi felt himself in the wrong. Gritting his teeth, he sliced open his wrist once more and let blood drip into the talisman water. Only then did He Bang turn to look at him. He brought the cup to her lips and said gently once again: “Come.”

He Bang’s appetite had diminished significantly due to the pain. When she ate ravenously Rong Chen Zi had looked down on it; now that she was eating little he worried she would fall ill. It was hot outside, which was unfavorable to her.

In the end he gritted his teeth and crouched before her: “Does it hurt very much?” His face burned hot, hot enough to light a fire. “Let me look at it…”

He Bang did not refuse. He lifted the feathered robe. Beneath it were two bare long legs. Rong Chen Zi took a rapid glance, saw there was indeed some redness and swelling, and could not help passing her a tin of medicinal salve for healing bruises and improving circulation.

He Bang would not take it. He sighed quietly, tilted his face to one side, and applied the medicine for her. The sensation was so tender and delicate that his heart nearly leaped from his chest.

The next day, He Bang recovered somewhat and developed a fondness for the red date and sweet bean paste moon cakes made at Qingxu Temple. Rong Chen Zi ordered the dining hall to make more for her in reserve, then announced he was entering closed-door cultivation.

His vitality had not yet recovered, and he had been struck by a strange poison — he naturally needed a period of recuperation. More importantly, he now did not know how to face this Clam. He gathered all his disciples in the Patriarch’s Hall, gave his usual address, then instructed Qingxuan to oversee the temple’s affairs with Qingsu in support, and passed down two books of talisman charts for the disciples to study and practice.

Once all matters had been arranged, he suddenly added one more instruction for Qingxuan: “That Clam… while your Master is in closed-door cultivation, you are to look after her well. Treat her eyes regularly as scheduled.” He held Qingxuan’s gaze, his manner solemn and authoritative. “Treat seeing her as seeing your Master. You are not to be disrespectful toward her.”

Qingxuan nodded like a little hen pecking at grain, thinking to himself: how would I dare be disrespectful — the moment you enter closed-door cultivation, Master, I’m putting her up on the offering altar and worshipping her as a deity.