“Mmph!” Qin Shuying let out a muffled groan.
Silence seemed to transform into those ancient texts’ riders galloping across the grasslands and taming wild steeds, his movements wide and sweeping, carrying a stubborn ferocity as he began to drive the untamable mare beneath him.
He reached out his arms, one encircling her slender yet astonishingly powerful waist, the other slipping under her knees, and with a startled cry, he actually lifted her entirely into his arms!
“You—!” Qin Shuying instinctively tried to muster her spiritual power to break free, but when she met those wild, blazing eyes, the gathered spiritual power dissipated.
Her eyes actually took on a lovestruck look.
This version of Silence had a unique charm.
Before she could recover from this sudden reversal of strength and status, he pressed in close.
No longer the clumsy, imitative movements from before, but a primal eruption born from the body’s instincts.
The next moment, the world spun.
Before Qin Shuying even registered what was happening, she felt herself being pinned and flipped by an irresistible, savage force!
Silence trapped her in a posture she had never imagined, his wrists no longer trembling but as strong as iron shackles.
“You…” Qin Shuying’s pupils contracted, and she subconsciously tried to summon her spiritual power.
But the tide of lust forcibly stirred from the depths of her body surged fiercely.
Her mind went blank, her body betrayed her will.
The unfamiliar sensation of being forcefully possessed—she had never experienced it.
Under this raw guidance, she unconsciously parted her lips slightly and allowed the intrusion.
This response was an effective encouragement.
Silence, with the recklessness of a newborn calf unafraid of tigers, slipped his hand into her clothes and touched her warm, soft, and delicate skin—never before so boldly violated.
This movement violently shook the heart lake that Qin Shuying had sealed for three hundred years.
In this female-dominated world, women were inherently superior in bone structure and far faster at cultivation from a young age.
They were taught from childhood to be strong, independent, and to bear responsibility.
Women were the pillars of the family, the backbone of the sect, the makers of the world’s rules.
Tears were weakness, showing vulnerability was shameful, and depending on a man was a sign of incompetence.
Qin Shuying was among the best of them. Her talent was extraordinary, her will like iron.
For three hundred years, she had climbed the solitary peak of the sword path alone, long accustomed to competition and subduing everything with absolute dominance.
She had never imagined that one day she would be pinned beneath a man, and that her body and soul would tremble and throb for it, even giving birth to a kind of liberating pleasure.
It was not a defeat in martial strength or cultivation level, but a subtler, more bone-deep reversal of relationship and posture.
She was no longer the eternally strong side.
She had become the one being approached, being taken from, even passively receiving.
This realization, like a key, unlocked a rusted lock deep in her heart.
The pressure she had shouldered for years, the loneliness of being a strong one, the suppression of emotions, and the social creed that women should not shed tears easily—all finally found an outlet.
“Uugh…”
A whimper entirely mismatched with her status escaped her throat.
Then, hot tears, like broken beads, streamed down her beautiful cheeks, soaking her scattered ink-black hair.
When Silence felt the cold wetness at his neck, all his movements abruptly froze.
He was stunned.
Slowly raising his head, propping himself up, he looked down at Qin Shuying beneath him, somewhat confused, somewhat at a loss.
Her face was streaked with tears, her long lashes wet and stuck together in strands, trembling slightly.
She was crying?
That cold, formidable Qin Shuying who made the world tremble with her sword qi and pressure?
That Nascent Soul Peak, Heavenly Sword Peak Master who could easily crush him?
Now… beneath him… crying?
Was it because he hurt her?
Or was he too much just now?
But… ‘I didn’t even use much force…’
‘Strange… I’m only at Foundation Establishment Early. How did I manage to make Qin Shuying, at Nascent Soul Peak and with Sword Dao Illumination… cry?’
Before his chaotic thoughts could sort themselves out, his gaze involuntarily met those shimmering, tear-filled eyes.
What kind of eyes were those! It was as if endless softness was gushing out from within.
In that moment, he understood.
He saw another Qin Shuying beneath the tough shell.
One who also got tired, hurt, felt wronged, and longed to be understood.
Three hundred years of pressure, the heavy burden of Heavenly Sword Peak, and everything she had endured alone in this twisted relationship…
‘She’s actually… been very tired, hasn’t she?’
Ripples stirred in Silence’s heart.
At this moment, his feelings for her were no longer so confusing.
He was certain: she was in his heart.
When had it started?
He didn’t know.
Maybe it was that day in the marketplace, when she chopped off four heads with one strike.
Maybe it was that night on Heavenly Sword Peak, when she held him and said, “You can’t escape.”
Maybe it was from a time he himself hadn’t even realized.
Silence reached out, his fingertips brushing away her tears.
She turned her face away, her voice thick with a nasal tone, but trying to regain her usual coldness, “What are you looking at…”
Silence’s heart softened, and he whispered, “I… I wasn’t looking…”
Qin Shuying gave a cold snort, but her body was no longer as stiff and resistant as before; instead, it relaxed slightly, and even unconsciously moved a little closer to him.
“Alright, don’t cry… I’m here.”
At this moment, there was no female superiority, no gap in cultivation.
There was only a woman who was exhausted, and a man who had finally mustered some backbone.
If only the female cultivators outside who admired Qin Shuying could see this, what an uproar it would cause.
‘I can’t be like this. I, Qin Shuying, cannot allow myself to appear so vulnerable in front of a man.’
She closed her eyes to compose herself.
When she opened them again, her eyes were a deep, bottomless cold pool.
Only, deep within, a trace of lingering misty water light remained, not yet fully suppressed.
“Silence, everything you saw and heard just now, forget it all. Don’t breathe a word to anyone. If I hear the slightest rumor, don’t blame me for turning ruthless.”
Yes, she was Qin Shuying.
She was the Heavenly Sword Peak Master who could easily control life and death, was moody and unpredictable, and had a harsh temperament.
What had just happened was perhaps just an accidental loss of control in her long life.
A temporary release of three hundred years of pent-up emotions under specific circumstances.
It in no way meant she had changed her nature, nor did it mean she allowed him to pry into or pity her heart.
The softness that had risen in Silence was pressed down by reality.
He immediately lowered his eyelids, restrained his emotions, and returned to being that gentle, obedient, slightly timid virtuous husband.
As if the man who had just torn off his disguise, forcefully embraced her, and made her cry was nothing but a bizarre midnight dream.
However, some things, once they happened, could never be truly erased.
The power balance between the two had subtly tilted.
Silence had seen her at her most ruthless, her most fragile, her most vulnerable.
Deep down, he was no longer afraid of her. Instead, a new, subtle feeling called “having the upper hand” took hold.
On the surface, he blinked obediently.
Those peach blossom eyes were full of docility, like an obedient big dog, rubbing his cheek against her palm as she cupped his chin, his movements gentle as if soothing a bristling cat.
“Don’t worry,” his voice was soft and sweet, with a post-intimacy allure. “I saw nothing, remember nothing. What happened today remains between heaven, earth, you, and me.”
Qin Shuying sat up, turning her back to him.
Her ink-black hair cascaded like a waterfall over her smooth but marked back.
Her dark outer robe had long been discarded somewhere, leaving only her disheveled inner garment.
Silence propped himself up, his body sore, and sat up.
Ignoring the red traces scattered over his own body, he first carefully straightened her clothes, tied her belt, and only then began to put on his own undergarment.
“The tournament is imminent. Focus on your preparations. Getting the Dragon Spine Essence is the real priority.”
“Yes, Senior Sister is right.”
“As for Chu Yi, it’s over. She will keep her promise. As for Fei Yu… I will handle it.” When she spoke of Fei Yu, killing intent flared in her eyes.
“Once this matter is settled, return to Cloud Hidden immediately.” Qin Shuying paused, then added, “Wan’er’s injury is important.”
“Understood. Thank you, Peak Master.”
With that, she did not linger. Her figure flickered and vanished like a wisp of dark green smoke out the door, as if she had never been there.
Silence sat alone on the messy bed, staring at the direction she had disappeared, unmoving for a long time.
Unconsciously, his fingertips brushed lightly over his own lips.
The slightly salty trace of her tears and the soft, cold touch of her lips still seemed to linger there.
After Qin Shuying left, the room fell into sudden emptiness.
The intense, almost twisted tide of emotion, tears, rebellion, and brief embrace from moments ago was like a sudden storm that had come and gone swiftly, leaving only a mess and the thick, lingering scent in the air.
Sunlight streamed through the window lattice, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air, and also illuminating the slightly hunched back of Silence as he sat alone on the disheveled bed.
Chaotic. Everything was utterly chaotic.
His physical discomfort, the mental impact, the deepening guilt toward Wan’er, the confusion about the road ahead, and the ever more complex feelings toward Qin Shuying… all tangled together like a knot, tying him up until he could barely breathe.
Just as his mind was wandering, the corner of his eye inadvertently swept over the slightly ajar door—
A cool, slender, silver-white figure, seeming to merge with the shadows, stood quietly by the pillar of the corridor outside the door.
It was Han Yi.
When had she been there?!
Silence’s heart suddenly constricted, as if doused with ice water, jolting him awake from his chaotic thoughts.
A chill shot straight to the top of his head!
His blood seemed to freeze instantly, every limb rigid.
‘She… has been outside all along?’
‘Since when?’
‘Before Qin Shuying came?’
‘Or… even earlier?’
‘She had been standing silently outside the door the entire time during the entanglement between him and Qin Shuying?’
This scene was so familiar!
Almost instantly, Silence’s mind uncontrollably flashed back to that nightmare-inducing scenario—that night, when he was being coerced and controlled by Yun He in the most humiliating way.
And Chao’er was hiding silently in the shadows, peeping at everything!
Like watching a twisted play put on exclusively for her.
And now, Han Yi, standing outside the door, though her aura was completely different and her eyes calm, had that “silent presence” and “coldly watching” feeling that eerily overlapped with Chao’er from that day.