Li Lanxiu sat upright against the brocade couch, holding a Daoist scripture he had retrieved from his storage ring. He flipped through the pages with quiet focus, wholly absorbed in his reading.
Bai Ying knelt astride his lap, their knees bracketing Li Lanxiu’s thighs. Their head was bowed, buried against the curve of his neck, breathing in rapid, heated bursts. Their chest rose and fell violently, and their heavy, uneven breaths filled the hall.
It was an odd sight. Bai Ying had their silver hair bound high in a jade crown, their face sharp and unfeeling, their very presence steeped in an icy detachment. And yet, they clung to Li Lanxiu like some debauched scoundrel, kneeling over him and inhaling him greedily.
Eyes half-lidded, nose pressed to Li Lanxiu’s throat, Bai Ying traced it along his skin, occasionally flicking their tongue out, savoring him as if he were the finest of wines.
Li Lanxiu, by contrast, remained utterly unmoved, his expression as serene as an ascetic in deep meditation. He didn’t so much as glance at Bai Ying, calmly turning the pages of his scripture.
It wasn’t until Bai Ying’s tongue grazed a particularly sensitive spot on his neck that he let out a faint “Mm…” and tilted his head away, but even then, he continued reading as if unbothered.
Bai Ying, dissatisfied, leaned in again, determined to taste more, only to be gently pushed back by a slender, jade-like hand.
Li Lanxiu straightened and said, “That’s enough.”
Enough? Bai Ying was submerged by instinct, their blood-red eyes dark with hunger. They pressed in once more, eager to indulge further.
Li Lanxiu, unable to fend off their strength, suddenly stilled and turned cold. With a firm grip, he seized Bai Ying’s cheeks, forcing them to meet his gaze. His voice was steady, his words weighty. “I said that’s enough. Do you not understand?”
Bai Ying had never seen him angry before. Their nose brushed against Li Lanxiu’s hair, and instead of backing off, they murmured with interest, “You smell so good…”
Li Lanxiu scoffed, the sound laced with disbelief and irritation. He studied Bai Ying with cool detachment before lazily remarking, “Like a beast in heat.”
Bai Ying stiffened for a fraction of a second, then slowly licked their lips, baring a set of gleaming, razor-sharp fangs—a blatant, unspoken threat.
Unfazed, Li Lanxiu released their face and gave their cheek a light pat. “Do you want to feel good just this once, or do you want to keep feeling good from now on?”
Bai Ying blinked, thrown off by the question. Their crimson eyes narrowed as they studied him. Of course, they wanted to feel good beyond just this moment.
“Answer me,” Li Lanxiu ordered softly, yet his tone carried the unmistakable weight of command.
Bai Ying hesitated before rasping, “From now on.”
Li Lanxiu pressed a finger to their forehead and gently pushed them away—not with force, but with a quiet insistence that Bai Ying, this time, did not resist. They obediently moved back as Li Lanxiu sat up.
“If you want to keep feeling good, then you’ll do as I say,” Li Lanxiu said. “When I say stop, you stop.”
Bai Ying scoffed, eyeing the fragile human beneath them. Their lips curled into a smirk, their voice dripping with disbelief. “Me? Obey you?”
Li Lanxiu took his time wiping his dampened neck with a handkerchief, his movements unhurried. “You seem to be forgetting one thing.” His voice was light, almost casual. “It’s you who needs something from me.”
Bai Ying found that even more laughable. They leaned in, looming over Li Lanxiu, staring down at him from an intimidatingly close distance. Their blood-red pupils, cold and merciless, held a gleam of mocking amusement. “I need something from you?”
They were dragon-born, a rarity among celestial cultivators, their very being a manifestation of primordial Dao. They had reached the peak of the Nascent Soul stage, wielded the forces of heaven and earth at their whim, and carried the bloodline of the yao king. There were few in the Three Realms who could match them.
And this human claimed they had a need for him?
A beautiful, fragrant, yet physically fragile human dared to claim that Bai Ying was the one in need. Wasn’t that laughable?
Li Lanxiu met their gaze steadily and asked, with quiet certainty, “Aren’t you?”
Bai Ying withdrew, putting some distance between them. Their thumb brushed idly over their lips, as if savoring the lingering taste.
Every time they got close to Li Lanxiu, inhaling his intoxicating scent, that familiar, feverish restlessness surged through them—a prelude to something far more primal.
But Conundrum Sect was vast. Their private realm stretched across mountains and rivers, as boundless as ever. Like before, they could simply sleep off the heat in the frigid depths of the cold spring, waiting out the worst of it.
Why should they lower themself to seek aid from a fragile human?
Bai Ying silently invoked a calming incantation, forcefully suppressing the impulse to lunge forward and taste him again. Fixing Li Lanxiu with a dark, unreadable gaze, they murmured, voice hoarse, “You are indeed…alluring. But I am neither a jiao lord nor your servant. You’ve chosen the wrong person.”
Li Lanxiu found their defiance amusing. Spineless creatures were no fun—stubborn ones, however, were just to his liking.
With measured ease, he straightened his robes, lifted his chin, and uttered a single, crisp word: “Leave.”
Bai Ying let out a sharp scoff, stepping off the brocade couch and striding away without hesitation. Just as they neared the exit, they paused abruptly, as if recalling something.
Hands clasped behind their back, they stood facing away from Li Lanxiu and said, “I assume the jiao lord’s demon core is in your possession.”
“That thing is dangerous. If it ends up outside the sect, lunatics will come scrambling to fight for it. Be careful.”
Li Lanxiu raised an eyebrow. “Next time you return, remember to follow the rules.”
“What rules?” Bai Ying’s gaze remained fixed ahead, resisting the urge to turn back.
“When I say stop, you stop.”
Li Lanxiu spoke with absolute confidence, certain that Bai Ying would return.
Bai Ying let out a few soft scoffs and strode away without pause this time.
Li Lanxiu watched them leave. He touched his neck where their tongue had left a faint sting and muttered under his breath, “Damn mutt.”
He retrieved the crimson yao core from his storage ring. The smooth, round pearl spun between his slender, snow-white fingers. The deep red within its depths darkened and lightened in turns, resembling the shifting gaze of a living being.
Bai Ying hadn’t been wrong—the ghost king truly was mad. Wronged beyond measure before his death, he had taken his own life and transformed into a vengeful spirit of immense power.
He had been a remarkable figure in life, but shedding his body and conscience had doubled his strength. Now, he ruled the ghost realm as its sovereign, presiding over the underworld.
And his greatest hatred was reserved for people like them—righteous cultivators from the great sects.
As Li Lanxiu pondered, he ran a fingertip over the core’s smooth surface. Suddenly, he twisted his wrist and clenched the core in his palm. His decision was made.
Fortune favored the bold.
In Wei City, a Four Seas Commerce Guild market stood atop a mist-shrouded mountain. Its towering pavilions, with their blue-brick walls and stone-tiled roofs, exuded grandeur. Ancient trees loomed around it, adding to its air of refined antiquity.
The entrance was imposing, flanked by two enormous stone statues of celestial cranes. They were so exquisitely carved they seemed ready to take flight. Above the gate, a massive golden plaque gleamed with the words “Four Seas Commerce Guild,” radiating immortal energy.
Li Lanxiu sat atop his Coldiron Fan. The market attendants, upon seeing him, hurriedly bowed with deference. “Young Master Li, you’ve arrived!”
The original host had occasionally visited the market, often making extravagant purchases. Whenever he was in a good mood, he spent lavishly, throwing around gold like it was nothing. Li Lanxiu stepped off his fan and strode into the market. “Summon your master to meet me.”
The attendant’s eyes lit up. “Right away!”
Li Lanxiu sat in a private box, watching the auction platform outside the window. The hall’s perimeter was lined with elegant private booths, offering esteemed guests a secluded view of the auction.
Each private booth was sealed with a spirit energy barrier, ensuring the highest level of privacy.
Before long, the market master walked in with a genial smile. “What does Young Master Li wish to purchase today?”
Li Lanxiu took out the yao core and extended his arm to display it.
The market master's smile froze. He hurriedly shut the window before stepping forward to examine the core in Li Lanxiu’s palm with great caution. “Judging by its quality… this must have come from a three-hundred-year-old great yao?”
“Five hundred.” Li Lanxiu lifted his hand slightly, signaling him to take it.
The market master wiped his hands on his robe and accepted it with both hands, visibly apprehensive. “Young Master Li, you are truly remarkable to have acquired a five-hundred-year-old great yao’s core.” He examined it carefully, even bringing it to his nose for a sniff. The chilling yao energy made him shiver from head to toe. He then asked cautiously, “How many spirit stones does Young Master Li wish to sell it for?”
Li Lanxiu casually raised a single pale, slender finger.
The market master’s heart skipped a beat. He tentatively asked, “Ten thousand mid-grade spirit stones?”
“High-grade.”
The moment Li Lanxiu spoke, beads of sweat formed on the market master’s forehead. One hundred mid-grade spirit stones equaled just one high-grade spirit stone.
This price was outrageous. He kindly advised, “Ten thousand high-grade spirit stones—there aren’t many buyers willing to pay such an exorbitant price for a yao core.”
A five-hundred-year-old great yao’s core was indeed a rare treasure. Whether used as a medicinal ingredient in alchemy or as a refinement material for magical artifacts, it could enhance the final product significantly. However, at such a steep cost, it was hardly a worthwhile investment for mere materials.
Unless someone needed it to dissolve a heart demon. For most cultivators, a century-old yao core was enough to dispel their inner demons. Who in this world would require a five-hundred-year-old great yao’s core for such a purpose?
Li Lanxiu glanced at the core in his hands and spoke with unhurried ease. “I will only sell it to someone who catches my eye. If not, I won’t sell.”
Seeing that there was no room for negotiation, the market master could only smile. “Very well. I’ll place it on the Treasure-Seeking Stone. If anyone shows interest, I will arrange for Young Master Li to meet them.”
The Treasure-Seeking Stone was a special jade kept within the market. When an item was placed on it, the stone could automatically detect its nature and transmit its details to cultivators who had a strong need for it.
These cultivators carried talismans issued by the Four Seas Commerce Guild. If the Treasure-Seeking Stone registered a match, the corresponding talisman would light up, notifying the cultivator to come and make a purchase.
Meanwhile, a hundred miles away in Soulmartial City…
Two centuries ago, the Su family had been a rising star among cultivation clans. However, after the patriarch’s untimely death, they had failed to produce another foundation-building talent and had since fallen into decline.
But even a dying camel was still larger than a horse. Though past its prime, the Su family remained incredibly wealthy. Their grand estate was lavishly decorated, exuding an air of imposing grandeur.
Blindfolded, Young Master Su was playing hide-and-seek in the bamboo forest with his newly-wedded concubine. The laughter of a delicate voice filled the air, making for a lively scene.
Following the sweet, playful giggles, he wandered deeper into the forest. Suddenly, a low, rhythmic drumming sounded, like a child playing with a rattle drum.
The bamboo leaves rustled in the night breeze, whispering like a secret conversation. A chill ran down Young Master Su’s spine, goosebumps crawling over his skin.
The rattle drum’s sound grew closer, its cadence unnatural, like the beat of a death march.
The sunlight filtering through the forest vanished. The chirping of birds and insects fell into silence. Everything sank into an eerie stillness.
"Who’s there? Who dares to play tricks on me?"
Blindfolded, Young Master Su could see nothing. Suddenly, his foot slipped, and he crashed to the ground.
Fumbling in the darkness, his fingers brushed against something cold and smooth—a body, bare and ice-like to the touch.
Eagerly, he ran his hands over it, but then his movements stopped abruptly. There was another body. The two figures were tightly joined, fused together like conjoined twins.
Terror seized him. He scrambled back and fell onto the ground, his hands trembling as he tore off the blindfold.
What he saw made his blood run cold.
A massive, pitch-black sedan chair loomed in the bamboo grove. Its surroundings were wreathed in eerie blue ghost flames. Heavy black curtains draped over its frame, veiling the dim light inside with an ominous air.
But there were no sedan bearers beneath it.
Instead, a swarm of faceless, naked humanoid creatures carried the palanquin. Their bodies were featureless—no eyes, no nose, no mouth—only bare skin and four twisted limbs that scuttled like spider legs.
There were nearly a hundred of them, encircling the sedan chair, their arched backs supporting its weight.
Though they had no mouths, a hoarse, cracked voice rasped from their throats—
"Guides of the underworld, mortals beware! Guides of the underworld, mortals beware!"
Around the sedan chair stood a group of figures clad in white robes. Their faces were blurred, as if smeared by water on an ink painting, but their mouths were strikingly vivid, painted a bright crimson as if by heavy rouge. As their lips moved, a shrill chorus echoed through the forest—
"The underworld clears the path, the living must retreat! The underworld clears the path, the living must retreat!"
Young Master Su felt warmth spreading through his trousers—his crotch was instantly soaked. Trembling, he turned his gaze toward the man standing beside the sedan chair.
It was a handsome young man dressed in blue, his hair neatly tied back. A bamboo flute, a shade greener than his robes, hung at his waist. Behind him, he held a crimson oil-paper umbrella.
Compared to the horrifying scene of a hundred faceless ghosts carrying the sedan, the young man seemed far less terrifying. In his panic, Young Master Su stammered, "W-Who…what are you people?"
The young man crouched slightly, his sharp eyes studying him carefully. In a soft voice, he asked, "Are you a descendant of Su Yuandao?"
There was a certain righteousness about him, something resolute yet reassuring. Young Master Su, feeling an inexplicable sense of security, hastily nodded. "My grandfather was Su Yuandao! He was a disciple of Streamcloud Sect two hundred years ago—he was incredible back then…"
At the mention of the name, the young man’s expression flickered subtly. He let out a quiet sigh. "Your grandfather once witnessed my friend being forced to take his own life. Yet, he stood by and did nothing." His voice was steady, neither accusing nor forgiving. "My friend swore vengeance that day, and now he has come to collect."
Young Master Su paled in terror. "W-What am I supposed to do?"
The young man reached into his sleeve and pulled out a black stone, offering it to him with calm sincerity. "This stone will keep you alive. Run now. I will hold him back."
Su snatched the stone without hesitation, his eyes darting nervously toward the eerie sedan chair. "Why are you helping me? Who…who are you?"
"There are countless injustices in this world," the young man replied, his voice steady. "If vengeance only breeds more vengeance, when will it ever end? You bear no guilt. Helping you eases my own heart."
With that, he straightened his posture, stepping firmly between Young Master Su and the ominous black sedan. Flashing a fearless smile, he declared—
"I am Gu Zhengxing, disciple of Streamcloud Sword Sect."
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