You've only been cultivating for a few years, and you're already talking about cultivating

After a moment, Zhu Yixin fell silent.

He knelt on the ground, head bowed, motionless, like a shell whose soul had been taken away.

Ying Wanning clapped her hands, a satisfied look on her face.

This is her usual tactic: using her beauty to get close to people, and then taking advantage of them one by one.

Zhu Yixin used to be so obedient, more so than a puppet, so she didn't bother with this method. But now that he's gone mad, this is the only way.

She looked down at Zhu Yixin kneeling on the ground, her gaze devoid of pity or guilt, only a cold scrutiny, as if she were examining a piece of merchandise.

"It would have been so much better if you had been this obedient earlier," she said softly.

After a while, Zhu Yixin slowly opened her eyes.

A faint bloodshot veil shrouded his eyes, like a reflection in water, neither dissipating nor solidifying. That bloodshot veil made his gaze appear both empty and eerie, as if he were looking at the world through a layer of blood mist.

He looked at Ying Wanning, head bowed, his voice devoid of any emotion: "Master."

Ying Wanning slapped him across the face.

With a sharp "smack," Zhu Yixin's face was turned to one side, and a red handprint immediately appeared on half of her cheek.

"You bitch." Ying Wan Ning slowly withdrew her hand.

She was seeking revenge for what she had just done.

She remembered clearly how many times Zhu Yixin, that lapdog, had called her a "bitch."

Zhu Yixin didn't react at all, and didn't even raise her hand to touch her reddened face.

He simply lowered his head obediently and said in a flat, monotone voice, "I am a bastard."

Ying Wanning raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. It wasn't a smile of joy, but rather a playful, cat-and-mouse expression.

"Hit yourself," she said.

Without hesitation, Zhu Yixin raised her hand and slapped herself across the face.

"Smack."

Another slap.

"Clap clap clap".

Ying Wanning said, "She's calling herself a slut while she's being hit!"

"I'm a slut!"

"I'm a slut!"

"Slap!" "Slap!"

One beat after another, neither too loud nor too soft, with a steady rhythm, like someone beating a dull drum.

His face grew increasingly red, palm prints piled up one after another, and a trace of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, but his hands did not stop moving, and his expression did not change.

Ying Wanning stood to the side, arms crossed, watching, her smile growing wider.

She finally nodded in satisfaction after hitting him dozens of times.

"Alright."

Zhu Yixin lowered her hand, stood aside with her head down, her face flushed red, but she didn't utter a sound.

Ying Wanning turned and walked down the mountain. Zhu Yixin followed quietly behind her like a dog on a leash, keeping a distance of just three steps.

By the time we got back to Nanshan Town, it was almost dark.

The town lights began to twinkle sporadically, and the shops along the street started to close their doors. Only a few inns and restaurants remained open, emitting a dim yellow light and the aroma of food.

Ying Wanning saw Qi Fei from afar.

He sat by the window in the inn's lobby, chatting with Butterfly Prince and a childlike Taoist priest.

There were still a few plates on the table, indicating that they had just finished eating.

Ying Wanning's gaze was fixed on him, as if she were hooked by something and couldn't look away.

Qi Fei possessed an aura that was difficult to describe and hard to articulate.

If I had to describe it, it would be clean and clear, like a piece of "ice".

That peculiar scent made her feel itchy, like a kitten scratching at her chest, making her restless.

She recalled her previous discussion with Zhu Yixin.

At that time, they felt that Qi Fei had powerful backers and was not someone to be trifled with.

But now that the trip to Nanshan is over, all that inheritance from the Sword Immortal's Mansion, all that soaring sword light—in the end, he gained nothing. Qi Fei also seems to have left empty-handed, having gained nothing at all.

Moreover, she glanced down at Zhu Yixin, who was standing behind her with her head down.

Even he was so easily subdued by me, and he even managed to escape from Qi Fei's hands. It seems that Qi Fei's methods are probably not that sophisticated.

Myself > Zhu Yixin > Qi Fei.

Thinking about it this way, she felt even more itchy.

In the illusion, neither the white fox nor the braised duck could win her over with those handsome men.

Each time, she almost reached it, just a hair's breadth away, and then it all started all over again. That feeling of wanting but not getting was like a hand constantly scratching at her heart; that itchy feeling made her feel numb all over.

And now, Qi Fei is right in front of me.

The clean aura emanating from him, the indescribable clarity, captivated her more than any of the handsome men in the illusion.

More importantly, he looked somewhat dangerous.

The more dangerous something is, the more attractive and exciting it becomes to her.

Playing with fire?

There was always a fire burning inside her.

That fire has been burning since the illusion, growing ever stronger, making her thirsty and restless.

She needed to find someone, to swallow him whole, bones and all, until she could quell the fire in her heart.

Qi Fei was the best candidate.

She sent Zhu Yixin to lie in ambush outside the town, while she returned to her room and carefully dressed herself up.

Afterwards, she drifted into the inn's lobby with a fragrant breeze, and walked briskly to Qi Fei.

She tilted her head slightly, revealing a section of her fair neck, her tone carrying just the right amount of concern and curiosity:

"Lin Bei, did you gain anything from your trip to Nanshan?"

She came at the wrong time.

Qi Fei was sitting with Tong Daoren and Butterfly Prince, drinking tea and chatting.

Tong Daoren had just emerged from the illusion and was still in a daze, as if he had survived a calamity. He was rambling on about how many times he had been killed by an axe in the illusion.

The Butterfly Prince listened with great interest, fanning himself with a folding fan, occasionally interjecting with "And then?"

Ying Wanning's sweet "Lin Bei" interrupted the three people's conversation.

The Butterfly Prince looked up and saw Ying Wanning's attire, his eyes lighting up immediately. He looked her up and down, snapped his folding fan shut, and a playful smile appeared on his lips.

Tong Daoren snorted coldly, his face instantly darkening. He glanced at Ying Wanning, then at Qi Fei, stood up, grabbed Butterfly Prince's sleeve, and walked out.

"Come on, let's go sit over there."

The Butterfly Prince stumbled slightly as he was pulled, glanced back at Qi Fei, winked, and gave him a "you'd better watch yourself" look before following the Taoist Tong to the table in the corner.

Qi Fei looked at Ying Wanning, who had arrived uninvited, with a calm expression.

"No," he said. "When I got to the illusion, the Snail Maiden came to repay my kindness."

"Oh?" Ying Wan Ning sat down opposite him, placed her hands on the table, leaned forward slightly, and pretended to listen attentively, her eyes showing just the right amount of curiosity.

"Can you tell me?"