The soft light of dawn filtered through the intricately carved wooden window, casting a gentle golden glow throughout the room.
The air still held the lingering fragrance of last night’s passion, mingled with a faint warmth.
Jiang Huai slowly awakened, his consciousness not yet fully gathered, when he felt a warm, soft weight lightly pressing against his chest.
…
He opened his eyes slowly, greeted by Zhu Siyao’s peacefully sleeping face.
The girl lay sprawled on top of him, her jet-black hair cascading messily around her shoulders, several strands mischievously veiling part of her cheek.
She slept deeply, her breathing even and long, long lashes like tiny fans casting light shadows beneath her eyes.
A faint blush lingered on her fair cheeks, her lips slightly pouting in an unguarded, endearing way.
He turned his head slightly, glancing toward the other side of the room.
There sat Zhuxin, so similar in features to the girl atop him, yet exuding a more mature and graceful charm. She was seated before a guqin.
Dressed in loose crimson sleepwear that outlined her voluptuous figure, her slender fingers lightly brushed the strings, sending clear and melodious music flowing like water, lending an air of tranquil elegance to her strikingly beautiful yet presently lazy expression.
She looked nothing at all like the wild woman of last night.
“You’re awake? Feeling any better?” Noticing his movement, Zhuxin pressed her fingers against the strings, the lingering notes fading as she lifted her eyes and smiled at him.
Jiang Huai gently moved, feeling a deep sense of ease and refreshment—his spiritual energy from yesterday seemed fully replenished.
He found himself changed into clean, comfortable underclothes, his entire body feeling refreshed.
Though he had been exhausted by this passionate woman last night to the point of fainting, just one sleep was enough for the terrifying recovery power of the Yin-Yang Body to restore his vigor completely.
The Spirit Sword Pattern was even now roused by morning’s response, pressing insistently against Zhu Siyao’s soft inner thigh.
Before he could answer, Zhuxin’s sharp gaze had already noticed the bulge.
She lowered her voice, tinged with a trace of unwillingness, “Your body really has no limits, does it?” “When you reach the Great Ascension Stage, I truly wonder if anyone in this world will be able to ‘handle’ you.”
In this world where women reigned supreme, it would be a loss of face if a woman could not completely “subdue” her own man in the boudoir.
It was obvious that there would be many such “losing face” women in the future.
Jiang Huai, being careful not to disturb the sleeping girl on him, braced himself on his arms and slowly sat up.
He looked at Zhuxin and asked, “Qingyue, has she come to see me?”
“She has.” Zhuxin nodded with a calm expression.
“I explained things to her. She said, once you wake up, you should go back to her.”
“Hmm? Why are you awake so early…” Zhu Siyao was roused by his subtle movements. She propped herself up where Jiang Huai had lain, rubbing her sleepy eyes.
The newly awakened girl had a drowsy cuteness, her hair tousled like a lazy kitten.
“I have to go back,” Jiang Huai said, looking at her.
Zhu Siyao, now more awake, showed a trace of anxiety on her face, “Then what about my Innate Talent?”
“It can wait a few days.” Jiang Huai patiently explained. “Later, tidy yourself up and go to Qingyue.”
Zhu Siyao’s face flushed instantly, her eyes flickering as she snuck a glance at her mother.
It was obvious what it meant to go to Qin Qingyue.
The Palace Master of the Black Dragon Palace would never allow any woman to have private dealings or secret liaisons with Jiang Huai.
She saw it as unforgivable infidelity.
Qin Qingyue insisted all relationships must be made clear and ordered, establishing the Dao Rules and her own unique, unshakable position.
Thus, Zhu Siyao had to go there and obtain a recognized “identity.”
“Clean yourself up, then go,” Zhuxin’s face turned cold, her tone flat and emotionless.
But in Zhu Siyao’s ears, these words made her breathe a secret sigh of relief.
Regardless of her mother’s expression, at least it was tacit permission.
“Alright, then.”
Zhu Siyao blinked, then suddenly leaned closer to Jiang Huai, her voice soft and competitive, “Then… what rank will I be?”
Jiang Huai tried to gloss over it, answering gently and vaguely, “What rank? In my heart, there’s no such thing as ranking among you.”
He thought Zhu Siyao would be touched, but instead she looked a little disdainful, giving him a playful push, “Don’t give me that nonsense! Would you dare say that in front of Qin Qingyue?”
She pressed, “Come on, what rank am I?”
Seeing her so insistent, Jiang Huai could only sigh, “Probably fifth.”
“Fifth?” Zhu Siyao blinked, a bit surprised. “Really? You didn’t forget to count Tang Zhaoxue, did you?”
“That’s right.” Jiang Huai nodded and explained, “Logically, she should be before Chi Lian, but the order depends on Qingyue’s decision.”
There was nothing he could do—Qin Qingyue was the strongest and most influential now.
Qin Qingyue felt Tang Zhaoxue’s cultivation and talent weren’t enough for “official status,” and improving her talent wouldn’t help, since she was currently considered an “acting” member.
She’d have to wait for her strength to catch up to make it official.
Hearing this, Zhu Siyao was first stunned, then couldn’t help laughing with schadenfreude, “So I’m at an advantage!”
“She always looked down on me back in the Small World!”
Thinking of how Tang Zhaoxue used to “bully” Jiang Huai in front of her, but was now ranked lower, Zhu Siyao felt a surge of glee and pride.
“Enough!” Zhuxin sharply warned from the side, “Don’t you dare mention this in front of her! If I hear you again, I’ll smack your mouth!”
“Got it, got it!” Zhu Siyao quickly covered her mouth, shrinking her neck, not daring to say more.
Mocking your own people wasn’t right, after all.
Jiang Huai left the chamber, stretched his body, feeling the Yin-Yang Primordial Source within him surge and billow, fully restored.
Lately, his recovery had become increasingly astonishing.
Since forming his Golden Core, his body seemed to be undergoing earth-shaking changes.
Unlike ordinary cultivators who methodically trained, established their foundation, and then formed a Golden Core, his own cultivation was more like constructing a grand world inside, brick by brick.
With Innate Primordial Qi as the source, Chaos Dao Platform as the foundation, Hunyuan Dao Fruit as the core, it was as if he were constantly building toward the formation of a complete Small World.
He could sense some mysterious Dao Rules evolving in the depths of his dantian, seeking an opportunity to break through.
Jiang Huai recalled the last time his consciousness delved into the Inheritance, he had caught a glimpse of a nascent world inside the last generation’s Yin-Yang Body.
“Could it be, that when I reach the Great Ascension Stage, a world will form within me?” With this shocking thought, he headed toward Vast Sea Residence, where Qin Qingyue resided.
As he passed through a moon gate, a cool, familiar voice reached his ears.
“You’re back… rather late.”
Jiang Huai stopped, and saw Wu Zhaohua in snow-white robes, standing tall like a solitary pine, cradling her ancient sword and leaning quietly against the corridor wall.
The morning light outlined her slender, stunning profile, her eyes calm and serene, as if she’d been waiting for a long time.
“Hmm?” Jiang Huai looked at her.
“You’ve been here all along? Have you sensed any strange changes in the Dao Rules recently?”
He remembered the warning from the Heavenly Demon and asked.
But Wu Zhaohua seemed disinclined to answer.
She lowered her sword-bearing arm and stepped toward Jiang Huai.
Her steps weren’t fast, but carried a formless pressure, like a sword being drawn, its sharpness gradually revealed.
“What are you doing?” Jiang Huai was forced back by her, step by step, until his back pressed against the cold stone wall—nowhere left to retreat.
He couldn’t help but feel resigned.
Why did the women here always express themselves or assert dominance with something akin to “kabedon”?
Was this, too, a manifestation of the matriarchal culture?
Wu Zhaohua stopped a fist’s breadth away, lifting those clear, cold eyes to stare into his, her expression complex and roiling with long-suppressed emotions.
“You’ve become like this now.” Her voice trembled almost imperceptibly.
“An entire night…”
All night long—Wu Zhaohua didn’t want to think about it, yet couldn’t help but imagine Jiang Huai in all sorts of postures.
Her mind drifted involuntarily back to those days in the small courtyard.
Back then, Jiang Huai had seemed like a harbor belonging to her alone.
He was strong, independent, working tirelessly for that little home, caring for her every need.
What a fine man he’d been—clean, focused, as if granted by the heavens, unique and precious.
But now, it all seemed to have changed.
This Jiang Huai still made her heart flutter, but now too many others hovered around him.
With a single gesture, women flocked to him; if he so much as showed weakness, even the proud Qin Qingyue would give in to him.
He was even more charming, even more irresistible—but he was no longer the Jiang Huai of her little courtyard.
“Yes, an entire night,” Jiang Huai said after a moment.
Since Qin Qingyue could sense his position through the Black Dragon Mark, it was only natural Wu Zhaohua could gauge his state through the Ling Sword Mark.
Indeed, by now, his body below the waist was probably covered with “exclusive marks”—as if labeled with various ownership tags.
“You shouldn’t be like this.” Wu Zhaohua leaned so close he could feel her breath, her eyes full of struggle.
“Back then… when we were in the courtyard…”
He had been such a good man, such a perfect husband.
Her gaze locked onto Jiang Huai’s lips, unblinking.
Truth be told, Wu Zhaohua, ever obsessed with the sword and untouched by desires, had never kissed anyone.
But now, staring at those enticing lips so close to her own, her mind swarmed with countless thoughts.
Had those lips intertwined with Qin Qingyue’s? Kissed Su Yingman? Lingered on the bodies of other women?
Had they, in the dead of night, brought pleasure to Qin Qingyue and the others in ways she dared not imagine?
Had they kissed their lips, their peaks of snow, their portals, even the tips of their toes?
And then there was White Dew—the white dragon—who, by some means, already carried his child!
At this thought, a burning mix of possessiveness, jealousy, anger, and a sense of violation surged up within Wu Zhaohua.
She loved this man deeply, yet was furious at how he had become a “man for every woman”—and frustrated that she herself had joined the scramble.
These twisted, conflicted feelings tore at her, making her breath quicken, her gaze darken as she drew ever closer to those tempting, “unclean” lips.
“Do you want to kiss me?” Jiang Huai was no longer an innocent in affairs of the heart.
Seeing Wu Zhaohua’s longing, struggling, yet clumsy gaze, he felt as though he was looking at a love-struck, inexperienced maiden.
In truth, in matters between men and women, this mighty Sect Master of the Wenxuan Sect, a sword genius, was no different from a novice.
“I… I…” Wu Zhaohua was flustered by his blunt question, her cheeks flushing, her mind going blank.
“I do,” she murmured, almost by instinct.
“But… isn’t this inappropriate? In someone else’s home, in broad daylight… Is this fitting for the dignified Sect Master of Wenxuan Sect?”
“If word got out, wouldn’t it be disgraceful, Wu Zhaohua?”
Qin Qingyue’s icy, mocking voice suddenly cut in, like a thunderclap.
Wu Zhaohua whipped around, only to see Qin Qingyue standing not far away, arms folded, watching them with a cold, knife-sharp gaze.
Beside her stood Qi Yuyong, hand to her forehead as if she could hardly bear to watch.
“No eye to see, really no eye to see,” Qi Yuyong complained inwardly.
‘Senior Sister, Senior Sister, have you not seen a man in hundreds of years?’
‘How do you lose your soul every time you see Jiang Huai? And here, of all places!’
“Senior Sister!” Qi Yuyong hurried forward and grabbed the stiffened Wu Zhaohua, trying to rescue her from the awkward situation.
“Hmph!” Wu Zhaohua snapped back to herself, face alternating red and white with shame and anger, but unable to retort.
She could only huff, using Qi Yuyong’s help to quickly pull herself away from Jiang Huai.
As she left, she didn’t forget to salvage her dignity, glaring at Qin Qingyue and saying coldly:
“Remember what Jiang Huai promised me!”
With that, she almost fled in embarrassment.
Qin Qingyue watched coldly until Wu Zhaohua disappeared, then said with bitter resentment:
“Disgusting. She acts like she hates it, but she still wants it.”
If she doesn’t want it, she shouldn’t try to take it.
She strode up to Jiang Huai, her hand carrying a trace of displeasure and possessiveness as she patted his chest.
“Always attracting bees and butterflies! Next time, don’t get so close to her, understand?”
“Otherwise, you’d better watch yourself!”