The visitor did not call out.
For the duration of half a cup of tea, the footsteps outside the door had been hesitant and uncertain, as if someone were pacing back and forth in the corridor, caught between advancing and retreating.
Those neither-heavy-nor-light footsteps slowed as they reached her door, pausing for a moment before finally knocking.
Song Yin’s hands gripped the edge of the wooden table tightly, suppressing the inner restlessness as she turned her head toward the carved wooden door.
It was nearly dusk, and she could vaguely see a slender shadow leaning close to the door.
The person still didn’t call her name, nor did they knock a second time.
It was as if he were accustomed to knocking without receiving an answer and was prepared to leave.
But Song Yin already knew who he was. Under the influence of her charm demon constitution, her sense of smell was extremely sharp; even from a distance, she had caught the fragrance of “food.”
It was so fragrant—the quiet, rich scent of Epiphyllum, carrying a slight sweetness, entwined with a faint, lingering aroma of medicinal herbs.
The person stood motionless at the door, seemingly deep in thought before preparing to turn away.
Song Yin suddenly lunged forward, grabbed the door with both hands, and pulled it open.
What met her eyes was a sight filled with Pink Moon Grass.
Countless tiny pink flowers, the size of rice grains, bloomed on long, deep-pink stalks. Hundreds and thousands of them were gathered together, forming a brilliant pink mist. A few larger flowers faintly shimmered, creating a handful of pink starlight.
Above the bouquet was a jar of stream water—a half-foot-long transparent container filled with the gradient-colored water of the Reflection Glow Creek, transitioning from orange-red to light purple. Inside, a small fluorescent fish swam about.
Helan Tan was startled. The hands holding the bouquet stiffened for a moment before he spoke: “You are here today?”
In truth, he had been wandering around the inn where Song Yin was staying for the past few days, only to find her room empty and no trace of her whereabouts.
Song Yin grabbed his hand and yanked him into the room with great force.
Helan Tan was dragged inside. His eyes were still fixed on Song Yin, but his feet had already been pulled over the threshold. Before he could react, he habitually reached back and shut the door tight.
He quickly discerned Song Yin’s current state. The scent in the air was unusual; with a light sniff, he determined that this was clearly a backlash from medicine.
His gaze slid to her chest, paused for a split second, and then immediately darted away, his ears turning a bright scarlet.
She was lactating.
Song Yin tucked the flowers and the fish into her bag. She didn’t even ask if they were gifts for her; as far as she was concerned, if they were in her room and they were things she liked, they belonged to her. He probably wouldn’t argue with her over it.
“Do you have medicine?”
She tugged on his sleeve and shook it, her eyes full of hope.
Helan Tan opened his mouth but visibly hesitated, making no sound. He swallowed his answer, neither saying he had an antidote nor saying he didn’t. His gaze only grew deeper.
Seeing him remain silent, Song Yin tilted her head and pondered. Perhaps every medicine cultivator had different techniques and experiences; medicine made by one might only have an antidote crafted by the same person. It was possible that Helan Tan couldn’t easily neutralize a medicine made by Jiang Zuilan.
She felt a slight pang of disappointment, thinking she could be lazy and wait for an antidote to be delivered to her door. It seemed she would still have to go downstairs and find it herself. She didn’t even know which street Jiang Zuilan was currently operating her shop on.
She let go of his sleeve.
“Forget it, I’ll go find—”
She was about to say she would find her Third Junior Sister.
However, before the words could leave her mouth, her waist was suddenly cinched tight, and she was pulled into a warm embrace filled with the scent of Epiphyllum.
“Don’t go looking for anyone else,” Helan Tan said, tightening his grip on her waist and locking her firmly in his arms. His expression was dark and somber.
Why was she always looking for others right in front of him?
Song Yin was stunned, and before she could explain, she heard Helan Tan’s compromising reply.
“I will help you.”
Helan Tan scooped her up by the waist, lifting her into his arms with her knees hanging in the air, and carried her to the bed in a few swift strides.
Song Yin had no chance to refuse—or rather, after her initial confusion, she felt a faint sense of anticipation.
The playful, gluttonous, and beauty-loving nature of a charm demon took over. Her hands instinctively wound around his neck, her fingertips even stroking upward, brushing against his cool, crescent-moon earrings.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a long, clingy drawl, though she already knew the answer.
She was blessed with a full bust and a slender waist; she looked good in anything. This goose-yellow garment was also something Helan Tan had bought at an auction; he had guessed then that she would like the style.
The chest area was embroidered with multi-petaled lotuses outlined in celestial silk. The lotuses looked as though they were being washed in a hazy, misty celestial river; the dark stains were deepening, nearly soaking into her loose waistband.
She was held in his arms, sitting across his lap.
The fluorescent fish and Pink Moon Grass he had brought her from the distant Reflection Glow Creek had already been put away. The little fish had been caught from the gradient-colored, light pink stream water.
Lotus petals scattered one by one, revealing undulating emerald waves as the water’s surface rose and fell.
The fish nipped at the lotus seeds where the water surged, sucking the milky-white lotus dew, while long-fingered hands explored beneath the waves.
Outside the window, peach blossom snow began to drift at some unknown moment as he skillfully massaged her amidst the melting snow of the stream.
Song Yin was being both bitten and rubbed. Her face was flushed crimson, and her fingers gripped his clothes tightly.
Somewhere in the snow-capped mountains, a spring suddenly erupted.
Song Yin couldn’t help but cry out. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably, and her voice trembled as she complained, “You did that on purpose! You’re getting revenge on me!”
Helan Tan looked up, his lips stained with a hint of white. “What am I getting revenge for?”
Song Yin pursed her lips. Her dizzy head was still filled with white light, but she quickly searched her mind for the misdeeds she had committed. She was certain he was doing this on purpose. Thus, she confessed intermittently:
“Last time in the cave… every time I pushed you to the brink, I wouldn’t let you finish. You’re getting revenge for that.”
Her tone was sincere as she added, “But I just thought you looked so beautiful when you were holding it in until you were flushed red. Your whole face was red; it was truly beautiful.”
Helan Tan said nothing, only lowering his head to continue swallowing.
Song Yin’s hands were restless. Following her whims, she felt around this beautiful “antidote.”
Her soft hands stroked upward from Helan Tan’s neck, sliding along the contours of his features before pinching his chin.
He had cold, pale skin. The blue earrings became even more translucent and sparkling as they swayed, making his skin appear even whiter and more seductive.
Song Yin’s throat bobbed. She had already forgotten that at this moment, the person who needed an immediate solution to a bodily problem was herself.
She didn’t feel like a weak prey waiting to be eaten—a piece of exquisite, fragrant, crispy cream cheese placed on a table.
On the contrary, she felt that she could be the predator right now, rightfully enjoying a delicious meal of prey.
“Kiss me,” she said, tilting his chin.
Helan Tan applied slight pressure, deliberately slowing down his licking and biting. “Am I not already kissing you?”
The deliberate slowing made the melting of every snowflake on the mountain feel infinitely magnified, grinding against one’s heart with an unbearable itch.
The white “melted snow” stained the peaks of his lips, carrying a fragrance. The cherries were taken into his mouth as they drew closer.
Song Yin’s eyes were still red. His fingers had already brought her a tremor earlier, which had alleviated the medicinal effects in her body, neutralizing most of the side effects.
But right now, her actions and her desires were no longer just about clearing the medicine from her system.
Song Yin took a deep breath and suddenly increased her strength. She didn’t seem like someone under the influence of drugs at all. Her move was fast, accurate, and ruthless. Concentrating all her strength in her hands, she unexpectedly pushed him down. Like a white deer suddenly leaping from a trap, she pounced on the hunter, reversing the roles of offense and defense.
Pressing both hands against Helan Tan’s chest, she pounced forward without hesitation to kiss and bite his lips.
Before the kiss, she didn’t forget to cast a cleaning charm.
Helan Tan laughed, not pointing out that she actually dished her own “output.” He simply tilted his neck back and responded to her kiss.
Their lips and teeth met, and their tongues collided.
But Song Yin soon discovered that the medicine’s effect was long-lasting and came in waves. Another surge of numbness washed over her, and her body went soft, leaving her with no choice but to let Helan Tan pin her down again, reclaiming the initiative.
Helan Tan didn’t forget to interrogate her about her whereabouts. Between kisses, he asked, “Why can I never see you? Where have you been?”
Song Yin felt comfortable and dazed from his kisses. Her mind was foggy, and she only wanted to enjoy herself. Fortunately, her instincts still knew to protect her sect and her people; she wouldn’t let this outsider know she had gone to retrieve the Azure Dragon Vine.
“Mm… helping my Third Junior Sister run the tofu shop. Didn’t you know? We have a shop on the street.”
Helan Tan knew, of course, but he had never run into Song Yin there.
Song Yin continued with half-truths: “Oh, once I finish my work at night and make the most beautiful tofu, I naturally go back to sleep. As for where I sleep, that’s none of your business.”
She brushed him off. “I’m so beautiful; I can sleep drunk among the flowers. Even lying on a stone in the garden to sleep would look lovely.”
Song Yin was too lazy to let him keep asking questions. She was afraid that if she wasn’t careful and her consciousness remained weak, she might blurt out some significant truths and betray her sect’s movements.
She coaxed him: “Next time, I’ll let you drink the very first bowl of freshly boiled soy milk from the shop, okay? It’s so rich and fragrant—the freshest delicacy in the world!”
Helan Tan’s eyes flickered playfully as he whispered a question in her ear.
At those words, even Song Yin, as a charm demon, felt her ears turn red. She scolded him for being indecent, pushed against his chest, and glared at him with her beautiful eyes.
“You’re so annoying! My taking that medicine was a complete accident; it won’t happen again. Soy milk and… hmph, those two aren’t comparable. You’re not allowed to compare them!”
The window was closed. Outside, the night wind blew gently, and clouds shifted in the sky.
Song Yin found Helan Tan to be a very strange person. If they were going to do it, they should just do it, yet he loved asking questions about the details of her daily life.
She suspected he was trying to scout the strength of her sect with ill intentions.
Song Yin brushed him off as well, only mentioning a few trivial things. She even moved all the credit for Zhan Zhaozhao’s hard work during the tofu grinding onto herself.
Helan Tan grasped her wrist and kissed the center of it. “How can your Master be so strict? Have you been pulling the mill for so many days? Are you tired? Do your hands still hurt?”
“I still have enough strength to slap you, at least.”
Though she said that, she was acting very lethargic.
She didn’t know which part of that sentence triggered him, but the desire buried within her body expanded further, making her feel weak and tingly.
“Mm…” Song Yin’s eyes grew misty.
Perhaps it wasn’t just the medicine; perhaps she had exerted too much effort when she subdued the tiger demon today. In short, her body was far too sensitive today.
After Song Yin climbed on top once more but lost the strength to restrain him, Helan Tan had no choice but to hold her, kissing her as they continued.
As Song Yin was tossed up and then brought back down to reality—going back and forth between the suffocating heights of the clouds and the warm depths of the sea—she suddenly felt a part of her body slip out of her control.
Whoosh.
The charm demon’s tail emerged.
Helan Tan froze.
The hand he had placed on Song Yin’s waist paused.
A faint, pale purple glow, semi-transparent, appeared indistinctly under the light of the night pearl. The tail was slender like a willow branch, but the end was fluffy and expanded like a calamus or a squirrel’s tail.
It was truly a charm demon’s tail.
This was a raw material that medicine cultivators dreamed of. The current scarcity of Heaven-grade pills was largely because rare ingredients like “a charm demon’s tail,” “a dragon’s heart-protecting scale,” and “a mermaid’s iridescent scale” had become unobtainable.
The tail wrapped around his hand, hooking and scratching at the space between his thumb and forefinger.
The sensation was very real.
Helan Tan tried to grab it, but the tail darted away with agile movements. Seeing that he was no longer chasing it, the tail wagged triumphantly before proudly stretching back into his palm.
It was warm, soft, and slightly resilient.
A Heaven-grade cultivation material. The opportunity was right before his eyes, within easy reach. Should he strike at the little charm demon now and take her tail?
Helan Tan took a deep breath but ultimately abandoned the thought entirely.
He told himself it was because he hadn’t brought the necessary tools, so he wouldn’t do anything to harm her today.
As the tail brushed against him, he increased his strength, gripping it firmly in his palm.
Song Yin’s eyes suddenly widened, and she jerked with a start.
She slapped his shoulder with a thwack. “What are you doing! Who gave you permission to touch the base of my tail!”
Helan Tan thought to himself that she was the one who had offered it up, but he didn’t argue with her.
“Alright,” he said, kissing her earlobe and coaxing her. “I won’t touch it anymore.”
Song Yin pressed her cheek against his chest, lying in his arms, while her tail entwined around his leg.
Helan Tan rubbed his nose against hers to tease her. “Didn’t you say you were a black cat demon? Your tail is here, but where are the cat ears?”
Song Yin reached out and scratched deep red marks into his neck. “Hmph, I have claws too.”
After several more rounds, Song Yin’s legs were sore.
Helan Tan, however, didn’t seem tired at all. He picked her up to move to a different spot. “I’ll carry you to the windowsill.”
The windowsill was wide. The carved wooden window was tightly shut, vibrating faintly.
“I can’t take it anymore.”
Song Yin’s mouth cried out, “I hate you, I’m done,” but her waist had already honestly slumped down.
Helan Tan didn’t stop.
Liar. How could a charm demon be unable to take it? He was more afraid that if he didn’t feed her enough, she would go looking for someone else.
The Long Street.
“This world is not friendly to people with natural ‘cold’ faces at all.”
Sikong Lan sighed.
She had only come to take her disciple to buy some things, but people thought she was looking for a fight.
Zhan Zhaozhao’s equipment cultivation studies required a Dragon Blood Fruit.
Sikong Lan took him to a shop and placed a bag of money down. She glanced over all the goods on the counter and said to the pale-looking fruit, “Your stock isn’t high-grade enough.”
It was merely an objective truth, but the shopkeeper interpreted it as a subjective attempt to cause trouble.
The shopkeeper looked at her with his nose in the air. “Even if you wander through another hundred streets, our goods are the best. You’re dissatisfied? There’s a Dragon Blood Tree over there. If you want some, go pick them yourself!”
The Dragon Blood Fruit was extremely difficult to obtain because the Dragon Blood Tree’s offensive power was staggering. Although it was just a tree, it was equivalent to a Nascent Soul-level demon. Countless branches would lash out like dragon heads, and its sap was corrosive, while its vines could strangle.
The fruits on the lower layers of the tree were paler in color and safer to retrieve. The higher up one went, the redder the fruit, the thicker the vines, and the more ferocious the attacks.
Sikong Lan slowly made her way to the Dragon Blood Tree, not forgetting to ask her disciple, “Did my sentence just now really sound like I was looking for trouble?”
Zhan Zhaozhao looked at his Master seriously, shook his head, and said sincerely, “It didn’t.”
He then diligently summarized the reason: “But Master has a ‘frozen’ face, ‘sanpaku’ eyes, and thin lips that curve downward. It probably just makes you look fierce.”
Sikong Lan shook her head helplessly. People’s prejudice against cold faces was like a great mountain.
Being born with a cold face—who had she ever offended?
The good news, however, was that while she had a face that looked incredibly arrogant, she also possessed a set of incredibly arrogant skills.
When Sikong Lan arrived beneath the tree, there were several sect disciples nearby joyfully celebrating their harvest of a few reddish Dragon Blood Fruits.
This mission was difficult; the elders wanted Dragon Blood Fruits. For them, obtaining fruits from near the middle of the tree was already a stroke of immense luck and a display of great skill.
“Friend!” The sect disciples were in high spirits and found Zhan Zhaozhao’s baby face to be friendly. They spoke with warmth: “I’ve managed to get some good fruits here, from near the middle layer! We’ve gathered plenty. Don’t go through the hardship of climbing the tree yourself; I’ll give you one.”
The fruit he presented was jade-white, with a few red threads visible at the very tip.
Zhan Zhaozhao went over to make friends, but Sikong Lan didn’t stop walking.
She slowly paced to the base of the tree and gave a casual swing of her sword. Almost no one saw how she moved, nor did they even see what the sword looked like.
She had already cleanly severed the branches at the very top.
Crash. The topmost fruits fell to the ground in a heap.
Every single one was deep red and translucent, as if irrigated with dragon blood.
The disciples were dumbstruck. Sikong Lan casually picked one up, grabbed Zhan Zhaozhao by the back of the neck to walk back, and carelessly gave him instructions on how to use it.
The disciples hurried to stuff the fallen fruits into their robes, thanking nature and the powerful stranger for the gift.
After Sikong Lan finished everything in a flash, she returned to the inn lobby. Ling Yi poured her some water, seizing every chance to interact with her.
Song Yin’s room was upstairs. For some reason, it felt like the windowsill was vibrating slightly—it was probably just the wind.
Sikong Lan pushed away the high-quality tea he offered and said lazily, “Don’t touch me. I don’t sit on the same bench as my ex.”
Ling Yi showed his fox-like eyes, and his fluffy ears drooped down, hanging piteously over his hair.
Sikong Lan stared at the fox ears and let out a long sigh. My ex is infuriating, but he really is beautiful.
“Notify the other disciples. Matters here are concluded. Prepare yourselves; we leave the Azure Dragon Province in the next two days.”
In the early hours of the morning.
Song Yin woke up in a daze, a pair of arms draped around her waist.
She was being held in someone’s embrace. The man who had tormented her all afternoon and through the night was now acting gentle, his well-proportioned forearms locking her against his waist like a precious treasure.
Song Yin rustled as she turned around, heat moving beneath the covers.
Behind her, Helan Tan was still fast asleep. His sleeping face was beautiful, his profile quiet like an Epiphyllum in the moonlight. He had a smooth neckline, a handsome chest, and faint traces of last night’s crystalline sweat remained on his cold, white skin.
When Song Yin woke, her mind was foggy. She stared at him blankly for a few moments.
Once her brain began to function normally, she suddenly remembered: she had morning lessons today. Her Master would be coming over in the early morning to check her work.
As soon as that thought flashed through her mind, Song Yin woke up completely. She sat bolt upright, slapped Helan Tan’s chest, and tried her best to push him.
“You have to leave quickly! You can’t stay the night here.”
Helan Tan woke from his slumber, opening his eyes wearily, his light blue eyes filled with confusion.
Song Yin was still hitting him and pushing him to leave, hurriedly handing him his clothes and constantly urging him.
“Quick, leave! You can’t be in my room!”
Helan Tan was stunned. He pulled back the covers, sat on the edge of the bed, and quietly put on his clothes with his head down. His eyelashes cast shadows, and his expression was unreadable in the dim lamplight.
He understood what the little charm demon meant.
He was not fit to be seen in public.