On the Tianyan Continent, the depths of winter had arrived, bitter cold sweeping through the land as heavy snow fell in swirling flurries, blanketing heaven and earth in a vast expanse of white.
Within the Mystic Sword Sect, inside the Ink Cloud Hall—a sudden roar, cold and ruthless, exploded like a clap of thunder, shattering the silence within:
“Lin Qianqian, you truly have no sense of shame!
I am your master, and yet you once again managed to break into my private chambers and climb into my bed?”
Immediately after, a woman’s voice rang out, tinged with dependence and fragility, like a fallen petal drifting in the wind, or a forsaken kitten, helpless and adrift:
“Ma… Master…”
Her voice trembled slightly, as if she had summoned every ounce of courage just to utter those words, carrying a faint trace of ingratiation and hope.
“Three years now… I… even if I were nothing but a fool with wild delusions, I’ve only climbed into your bed one thousand eight hundred times in total.”
She paused, her voice dropping even lower, laced with a shame and sorrow hard to voice, yet burning with the desperate resolve of a moth diving into flame:
“B… But Second Senior Sister said, as long as I could climb into your bed,
and successfully sleep with you, you would marry me.
She said that only then…
could I truly become your woman, and receive all of your love.”
Having said this, she seemed to have exhausted all her strength, her voice carrying a breathless gasp, yet she hastily added:
“That way, I wouldn’t have to call you Master anymore, but directly call you Husband.
And I could stay by your side every day and night, attending to you, caring for you, so you’d never be lonely again.
I could cook warm meals for you with my own hands, and drape a cold-proof robe over your shoulders.”
She paused, as if a thought had struck her, and spoke again with shyness:
“Besides, Second Senior Sister said…
as your Cultivation Partner, even if I never worked hard at cultivation for the rest of my life, none of the senior brothers of the Mystic Sword Sect would look down on me!
They’d all only envy me, be jealous of me, flatter me, and curry favor with me, because—I am your woman.”
“Lin Qianqian, you truly refuse to repent! Stubborn and unyielding!”
The voice grew even colder, like the frozen abyss of the ninth underworld, as if it could freeze a person’s very soul. Each word struck like a sharp blade of ice, piercing deep into the heart.
“Climbing into your master’s bed is bad enough, but you dare to slander—falsely accuse your Second Senior Sister?
Do you truly think the rules of the Mystic Sword Sect are mere decorations?
Do you take me for a blind man, unable to see through your filthy schemes?
Get out there and kneel in the snow and ice, and reflect properly!
When you’ve thought it through, truly realized your mistake, repented completely, and sworn never to climb into your master’s bed again—only then may you rise?”
The final words were practically ground out between clenched teeth, carrying an unyielding authority and profound disgust.
Before the words even faded, a white figure was hurled out of the bedchamber like a kite with a snapped string…
Crashing heavily into the snow outside, landing with a dull thud.
A shocking splash of blood bloomed instantly on the snow, quickly buried beneath the falling flakes.
The woman was only fifteen, in the bloom of youth, yet her frame was frail as a reed in the wind, fragile and easily broken.
Her cultivation was merely at the third level of Qi Refining, with Five Spiritual Roots—mediocre aptitude. In this Cultivation World where the strong reign supreme, she was as insignificant as an ant.
She was about 1.66 meters tall. She should have been graceful and elegant, but at this moment she was like a flower ravaged by a storm, in a wretched and miserable state.
Her face was heavily made up, and the thick powder had already covered her original features, making it impossible to see her true appearance. Yet it could not conceal the dark circles and exhaustion in her eyes.
That thin white undergarment, as delicate as cicada wings, blended into the surrounding snow-white in the icy snow, yet seemed especially glaring, adding a touch more desolation.
However, even so…
She still endured the severe pain all over her body and stubbornly climbed up, kneeling in the cold snow.
Her eyes gazed obsessively toward the spacious bedchamber, filled with longing, adoration, and a trace of unwillingness and stubbornness.
As if she wanted to carve everything inside that hall into her very soul.
Inside the great hall, a man in a black robe embroidered with qilin patterns, only one hundred and thirty-nine years old, had already reached Great Completion Level Ten cultivation. Across the entire Tianyan Continent, he ranked among the top powerhouses.
His bearing was upright, like a pine or bamboo, with a dragon-like elegance and phoenix-like grace, standing as elegant as jade in the wind, like a divine figure stepped out of a painting. Every gesture and movement exuded a powerful aura.
Only those eyes were cold and merciless, as deep and unfathomable as a cold pool, and as sharp as a blade, making others not dare to look directly at them.
He coldly glanced at the woman, his eyes containing not a trace of pity, only deep disgust and indifference.
Immediately after…
He casually circulated his Spiritual Power. With a ‘bang’, the bedchamber doors were tightly shut, isolating the woman outside.
The woman knelt like this for three days and three nights!
During this time, countless inner sect disciples passing by either stopped to watch, or whispered among themselves, and some even pointed at her, with voices of mockery and ridicule endless to the ear.
However, the woman seemed as if she had gone deaf, turning a deaf ear to everything around her.
Her eyes were hollow and numb, as if she had long since put life and death beyond her concern, and yet also as if she were stubbornly waiting for something?