Chapter 5: Qu Rou's Flustered Fury
He had admired her for decades?
Qu Rou's expression turned strange.
Being admired for decades by an Outer Disciple whose Lifespan Limit was approaching... it gave her a very peculiar feeling.
"Are you an Alchemist?"
Qu Rou glanced inside the room.
Li ng chuckled. "I know a little, just a little!"
Qu Rou looked at the old man before her with speechless exasperation. Knowing 'a little' could produce Flawless pills?
She wasted no more words and got down to business. "Do you have a thod to resolve the fire poison within my body?"
Li ng chuckled again, stroking his beard. His eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze becoming sowhat brazen as it swept over Senior Qu's alluring figure.
Qu Rou's delicate brows furrowed, a flush of anger coloring her features. Under normal circumstances, she would have taught him a lesson right then and there—made him understand that in the world of cultivation, keeping one's eyes in check was key to a long life.
"Not difficult!"
Not difficult?
The anger on Qu Rou's face vanished instantly.
"If this Junior can resolve the fire poison within , you may state your conditions. I will agree to them all!"
Li ng chuckled, leisurely stroking his long beard. He was in no hurry to give Qu Rou an answer. He entered the courtyard and settled into his reclining chair.
"Senior Qu, you should be able to see that this Junior's Lifespan Limit is approaching."
Qu Rou swept her gaze over Li ng. She could sense the thick aura of death clinging to this Outer Disciple. This kind of aura only existed on those cultivators about to enter Sitting Death.
"Even a Nascent Soul cultivator would struggle to obtain a single Longevity Fruit. If you seek to prolong your life, I am powerless!"
In the world of cultivation, only one thing could increase lifespan: the priceless, marketless Longevity Fruit. How could a re Foundation Establishnt cultivator like her dare covet such a rare treasure? Moreover, the fire poison within her wasn't worth a Longevity Fruit anyway.
Li ng turned his head to look at Senior Qu, bathed in moonlight. She was truly, breathtakingly beautiful. Among all the female cultivators Li ng had seen, her looks ranked within the top five.
"Life and death are fated. This Junior does not fear death. What this Junior seeks is not rely to live."
"Then what do you want?"
Qu Rou looked at Li ng in the reclining chair with confusion.
The smile faded from Li ng's face. He narrowed his eyes, appraising Senior Qu's exquisite form from head to toe once more. In Qu Rou's eyes, Li ng appeared rather lecherous now.
"eting Senior Qu today is Heaven taking pity on this dying man. I have admired Senior Qu for decades. If Senior Qu could fulfill this dying man's wish... to taste your fragrant grace... this Junior will definitely help Senior Qu purge the fire poison from your body."
"You... you..."
Qu Rou's face flushed with a mixture of sha and fury as she glared at him. She never expected this Li junior would make such a profane request of her.
"You lecherous scoundrel! How dare you speak to like this? Even if I cripple you here and now, and this goes before the Enforcent Hall, you would only have yourself to bla!"
Qu Rou ford a single-handed seal. Her top-grade magic tool, the "Lingxi Sword," flew out from her storage pouch. It hovered beside her, spinning ominously, seemingly ready to strike Li ng down at any mont.
Li ng also felt the killing intent emanating from Qu Rou.
Qu Rou was a Foundation Establishnt Great Perfection cultivator. Killing a sixth-layer Qi Condensation Outer Disciple would be as easy as swatting a fly for her.
Yet, facing the murderously intent Senior Qu, not a trace of fear showed on Li ng's face. He t the gaze of the flustered and furious woman with calm composure.
Li ng's slightly hoarse voice rang out, unhurried and steady.
"Senior Qu, this Junior doesn't have long to live anyway. Dying a few years early or a few years late makes no difference. As they say, 'To die beneath the peony flower, even as a ghost one remains dashing.' This Junior thinks dying under Senior Qu's sword wouldn't be so bad. However... to truly die just like that... this Junior would be quite unwilling."
A jade vial flew out from Li ng's storage pouch. With a wave of his hand, he sent it flying toward Qu Rou.
Qu Rou caught the vial, looking at Li ng with puzzlent. "What is the aning of this?"
She pulled out the stopper. A rich dicinal fragrance wafted toward her face.
Fla... Flawless pill?
And a first-grade Soul Nourishing Pill at that?
Qu Rou stared at the little old man in the reclining chair with utter disbelief.
Li ng chuckled softly.
"Senior Qu possesses extraordinary talent and has hope of reaching the Great Dao. Though this Junior is untalented, he is willing to lend you a helping hand. For as long as this Junior lives, he will prepare all the pills Senior Qu needs for seclusion to break through and form your Golden Core. Top-grade Soul Nourishing Pills. Top-grade Spirit Gathering Pills. Top-grade Dustfall Pills."
Top-grade Soul Nourishing Pills? Top-grade Spirit Gathering Pills? Top-grade Dustfall Pills?
With each pill na Li ng uttered, Qu Rou's heart skipped a beat.
"Dus... Dustfall Pills are third-grade pills! You... you can refine those?"
That was the Dustfall Pill! It was an auxiliary pill for cultivators forming their Golden Core. It could greatly increase the probability of successful core formation. If mortals consud it, it had the power to revive the dead and regrow flesh on bones! A mid-Foundation Establishnt cultivator who consud one could directly advance one minor stage to late-stage Great Perfection!
And if it was a Top-grade quality Dustfall Pill...
Qu Rou looked at Li ng with a complex expression. Struggle, disgust... and temptation warred in her eyes.
Li ng chuckled with confident ease.
"Senior Qu probably won't be entering Death Seclusion that soon, right? Give this Junior one year!"
"How do I know you're not deceiving ?"
A slight curve appeared at the corner of Li ng's mouth. The fact that Senior Qu asked this ant she had already accepted in her heart! That was the temptation of breaking through to form her Golden Core! In a place like the Joyous Union Sect, ninety-nine percent of female cultivators wouldn't refuse such an offer!
"Aside from the Dustfall Pill, this Junior can refine the other two types right now. Even with just those two pills, they would significantly increase Senior Qu's chances of successful core formation."
The emotions on Qu Rou's face shifted rapidly once more.
The efficacy of Top-grade Soul Nourishing Pills for cultivators went without saying. No cultivator didn't wish for their soul spirit to grow stronger. Soul-refining cultivation thods weren't unheard of, but they all required Soul Nourishing Pills as an aid to make any real progress.
Li ng stood up from his chair. His thin, withered fra moved toward Senior Qu.
Seeing Li ng approach, another wave of conflicting emotions washed over Qu Rou's face. With an icy expression, she recalled her top-grade magic tool. The Lingxi Sword circled around her once before darting back into her storage pouch.
Li ng walked unhurriedly until he stood before her.
"Senior Qu... shall we continue our discussion inside?"
Qu Rou turned slightly away from him, avoiding his hand, which had moved as if to encircle her waist. Her face was an emotionless mask. She pushed open the bedroom door and walked inside.
Li ng chuckled softly and followed her into the bedroom.
The door clicked shut behind them.
Within the dim confines of his simple bedroom, lit only by faint moonlight filtering through paper windows and a single low-burning oil lamp on a table near his alchemy furnace, the air felt thick—thick with tension, thick with unspoken terms.
Senior Qu stood rigidly near his bed, her back straight as jade, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. The proud line of her neck was taut; she refused to look at him.
Li ng moved slowly. He approached not like a predator, but like an old gardener tending a rare, frost-touched blossom. He stopped just behind her, close enough that she could feel his presence, the faint scent of herbs and old parchnt clinging to him.
He did not touch her imdiately. Instead, he spoke, his voice low in the quiet room.
"The fire poison resides deep within your ridians, near your dantian. It festers like embers beneath snow. To draw it out requires... proximity."
Qu Rou shuddered. A fine tremor ran through her shoulders. She knew what 'proximity' ant in this context—in any context involving Dual Cultivation techniques or energy transfer within their sect.
Her pride scread in protest. Her cultivated aloofness, built over decades as a Foundation Establishnt expert, recoiled at submitting herself—her body—to such indignity. To such an old man! An Outer Disciple!
But beneath that icy pride, another part of her stirred. The pragmatic part whispered about Flawless pills. About Top-grade Soul Nourishing Pills already in her possession. About Dustfall Pills—a distant dream now offered on a silver platter.
And deeper still, buried under layers of discipline, sothing else flickered. A forbidden heat unrelated to poison. Sha burned hotter than any fire poison on her cheeks.
She felt his hand then. Not grasping or demanding; his dry palm settled lightly between her shoulder blades over her robes.
A spark—cool yet penetrating—threaded from his fingertips into her ridians.
She gasped involuntarily, a sharp intake of breath that sounded loud in the stillness. Her body betrayed her will; it arched slightly into that touch, seeking more of that cool relief against the simring internal heat she'd endured for years. Her lips parted, and she bit down hard on her lower lip, trying to stifle any sound.
This was wrong! This was beneath her!
Yet...
His other hand ca up slowly, resting on her hip. Through layers of silk, she felt its warmth, its weight anchoring her.
"Relax, Senior," his murmur was close to her ear now. "Resistance will only make it more difficult."
His energy flowed into her—a patient, deliberate stream seeking out knots of scorching toxicity woven around her core. It felt like cool water poured over parched earth. Like winter frost eting stubborn sumr fla.
A moan escaped her clenched teeth despite herself—a soft, broken sound full of humiliation and undeniable relief. Her knees weakened. She felt herself leaning back against him—against that frail-seeming fra that now felt unshakably solid. Her head tilted back, resting against his bony shoulder.
Tears—of fury? Of sha? Of release?—pricked at the corners of her tightly shut eyes.
The moonlight through the window cast their rged shadow upon the floor—a single dark shape where two proud individuals blurred into one act of necessary surrender.
He worked silently, thodically, drawing out threads of poison with ticulous care, turning them into wisps that dissipated harmlessly into the air around them, marked by the faint scent of ozone and burnt sugar.
Ti lost aning, asured only by the slowing tremors coursing through her body, by the gradual easing of tension coiled deep within her dantian, by the ragged rhythm of her own breathing slowly synchronizing with the steady, calm rhythm behind hers.
When the last stubborn knot dissolved, leaving behind a clean ache, a hollow where corruption once festered, she was limp against him, spent, trembling lightly, sweat-dampened hair sticking to the delicate curve of her neck and forehead.
Silence stretched, filled only by the sound of shared breathing and the rustle of fabric as he shifted slightly, supporting her full weight without complaint, without comnt, without gloating victory.
After a long mont, he spoke, his voice still low but now carrying a different note—one of finality and completion.
"It is done."
Those three words hung between them, finalizing the transaction, sealing the pact begun with a vial and ending with this intimate violation of sanctity, personal space, pride—everything she held dear as a cultivator, as a woman.
Slowly, stiffly, she pushed herself upright, away from him.
She did not look at him. Could not. Face afla, she straightened her robes and smoothed her hair with hands still unsteady.
Without a word, she turned and walked toward the door. Her hand paused on the handle. Back still turned, her voice erged tight, controlled, yet carrying an undeniable undercurrent of sothing raw, newly exposed.
"One year! Do not fail !"
Then the door opened and closed.
Leaving Li ng alone in the moonlit room, the scent lingering—a mix of herbal ozone and a faint trace of floral perfu.
He smiled, a slow, satisfied smile, touching the empty space where the proud ice sculpture had briefly lted, yielding softness beneath.
The ga had begun.
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