Chapter 40: Hit You

Falling into the hands of a thieving Dragon? Clearly, the thieving Dragon didn’t see it that way.

Inside the bedchamber, Qin Qingyue hooked her finger around the hem of the Dragon Pattern Dress, turned her head slightly, and glanced at Su Yingman, who was fastening the Seven-Colored Belt.

Her Dragon Tail unconsciously swept across the floor as she muttered softly:

“What’s going on? It feels like your butt has more flesh than mine, and it’s softer to the touch, too.”

With that, she unceremoniously kneaded Su Yingman from behind.

“Is this because you practiced the Charm Technique?”

Su Yingman was currently smoothing the radiant Heavenly Rank Skirt over her body, her voluptuous curves outlined breathtakingly by the silky fabric, the rounded lines plump as ripe peaches.

“I’ve only ever cultivated the Hehuan Sect’s Cultivation Method, and it hasn’t brought about any changes to my body.” She answered truthfully.

In other words, pure talent.

“Tch, lucky you.” Qin Qingyue pursed her lips.

“This is just how we look after Transformation, nothing to be done.”

“You can wear this skirt for now. In a couple of days, I’ll give you two more—enough to last you until Great Ascension.”

Qin Qingyue was truly generous.

She gifted Heavenly Rank Skirts as if they were nothing, leaving Su Yingman feeling both favored and pleasantly surprised.

She straightened her clothes, offered a deep bow, and spoke with just the right amount of gratitude in her voice:

“Thank you for your generous reward, Main Wife. I will serve my husband with all my heart and never slack off.”

This was far better than scheming for resources against a bunch of vixens in the Huanhuan Sect—she’d truly latched onto the Dragon’s thigh.

To be honest, after mingling in the Cultivation World for so long, she’d witnessed too much backstabbing and intrigue, people fighting to the death for just a scrap of resources, sisters turning swords on each other.

It was rare for someone to so generously hand over resources to her.

It felt like joining a great sect, with the Sect Master taking care of everything for her—all she had to do was fulfill her own duties.

Hearing this, Qin Qingyue raised her chin high, her expression subtly proud, Dragon Tail swaying as she declared:

“Of course I won’t treat you badly.”

“You’ll never go wrong following me.”

After centuries of going it alone, this was the first time someone had sincerely spoken up for her. It felt pretty good.

Su Yingman keenly sensed that Qin Qingyue seemed quite happy with her words.

She realized that Qin Qingyue wasn’t as terrifying or oppressive as the rumors claimed, nor was she quick to kill.

Getting along with her was surprisingly pleasant. She treated those who were sincere with real kindness, and sometimes she could even be a bit of a chatterbox.

Perhaps it was because of all those centuries of loneliness.

“Remember, when it comes to Jiang Huai’s cultivation, you mustn’t be careless or let things slide.” Qin Qingyue finished dressing, her expression turning serious as she tapped Su Yingman with her fingertip.

“Other things you can go along with him, but not cultivation.”

If the foundation wasn’t solid, everything else was empty talk.

Strength was the hard fist. She wanted Jiang Huai’s cultivation to keep up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to supervise his cultivation closely.” Su Yingman promised solemnly.

“Mm, let’s go.”

Training ground.

Jiang Huai practiced swordsmanship in the open yard, executing the Basic Sword Formula with fluent, flowing movements.

The Basic Sword Formula was still too simple for him.

To avoid being manipulated by those at the Great Ascension or Integration stages in the future, and to become a free and unfettered immortal, he’d decided to become a formidable cultivator.

But to reach the limits of his physique, he needed to cultivate using both Yin and Yang energies.

His physique seemed naturally suited to amorous pursuits—he needed others to “assist” him in advancing, and likewise, he could give back to others.

When it came to Su Yingman, Jiang Huai’s feelings were complicated, two thoughts constantly warring in his mind.

To be honest, he shouldn’t have kept Su Yingman, nor did he really want to. He felt guilty about it.

She’d confessed everything, yet Qin Qingyue had snatched her up as a concubine. It was just too much.

But then, Su Yingman had eaten his food, and he had seen every inch of Su Yingman.

Every bit, even magnified under the effect of the Charm Technique.

Things had gotten complicated. The two of them had truly formed a certain kind of bond.

Jiang Huai’s sword gradually lost its rhythm, his brows knitting together.

“Can’t even hold your sword steady?! Where’s your mind wandering off to!”

Qin Qingyue’s voice suddenly rang out, tinged with displeasure, accompanied by the sound of high heels tapping.

She wore a long, dark Dragon Pattern Dress, her ponytail tied high, exuding heroic spirit.

Su Yingman followed closely behind, the Seven-Colored Glow Skirt dazzling, though the Ancient Wooden Sword hanging at her waist was a bit of an eyesore.

“Just thinking about something.” Jiang Huai stopped, breathing slightly heavy.

“When practicing the sword, your mind, intent, and spirit must all be focused on the blade!”

Qin Qingyue’s tone was strict, and the Dragon Tail behind her suddenly lengthened, whipping toward Jiang Huai with such speed that only an afterimage remained.

Jiang Huai had no time to react before the Dragon Tail wrapped around his waist and yanked him close.

The world spun, and he found himself pulled right up to Qin Qingyue, his nose nearly touching her perky one, feet dangling off the ground.

“Dear husband, remember to focus when cultivating. No slacking off.”

“If I catch you slacking again, I’ll have to give your butt a good thrashing with my Dragon Tail.” Qin Qingyue said, half serious, half teasing.

Jiang Huai stiffened his neck in protest, “You can’t hit my butt.”

“That’s not up to you.” Qin Qingyue slowly set him down and walked toward the open ground.

“Qi Refining isn’t just about refining Qi; you have to train your body, too.”

“Otherwise, if your physique can’t keep up, you won’t be able to handle the Qi Refining.”

“Most people need to do Body Training during the Qi Refining Stage. You’re no exception.”

She stood in the center of the field, suddenly turning to look at Jiang Huai, her aura crashing over him like a tidal wave.

Jiang Huai instantly felt as if a heavy weight was pressing down on him, yet he could still barely move.

Qin Qingyue kept the pressure on him at just the right level.

She watched Jiang Huai’s face twist in pain, a fleeting trace of reluctance flashing deep in her Dragon eyes, quickly suppressed by even stronger resolve.

Actually, she knew of a faster way to refine Qi, but it was a much more extreme method.

It was said that in the West Sea Dragon Palace, the Gold Dragons refined Qi by getting beaten—whipped, even—while using top-grade immortal materials and their powerful Dragon bodies to heal.

This tradition left many Gold Dragons with rather unusual “desires”—either they liked being beaten, or liked beating others, rarely anything else.

But the training results were excellent. Gold Dragon body cultivators were all incredibly tough, nearly invincible among their peers in the early stages.

There just weren’t many Gold Dragons. No one knew why.

Naturally, Qin Qingyue couldn’t bear to treat Jiang Huai that way, so she used a gentler method—tempering his body with pressure, though a beating was still unavoidable.

“Su Yingman, draw your sword.”

Su Yingman drew the long sword at her waist—a wooden sword.

She offered Jiang Huai a graceful bow, her posture flawless:

“Husband, forgive my offense.”

As her words fell, the wooden sword blurred into an afterimage, slicing through the air with a sharp whistle, thrusting straight for Jiang Huai’s left shoulder.

Its speed was held to the Qi Refining Stage, but the angle was vicious and precise.

Jiang Huai raised his sword to block, but his movements were much slower than before.

Careless, he was struck on the left arm by her wooden sword, leaving a faint red mark that made him gasp sharply.

His arm muscles spasmed uncontrollably, a glaring red welt swelling up in an instant.

The force was like being lashed with a whip—the pain lingered and refused to fade.

Su Yingman’s face remained calm, but out of the corner of her eye she kept sneaking glances at Qin Qingyue.

Elder sister, I really am hitting him like you said, so don’t suddenly get soft-hearted and take it out on me.

Qin Qingyue had somehow produced a Black Jade Chair and was now leaning on it, nodding at her and saying softly:

“Keep hitting him until he can block your sword under my pressure.”