The two streams of spiritual power collided completely.
The emerald vitality spread like spring water, coiling around that wisp of cold demonic qi.
Shen Yuwei was still trying to suppress the restless spiritual power inside Xu Ning’s body, but instead, she was entangled by that emerald essence.
Even the restless heat deep within her golden core was drawn out along with it.
At some point, the spiritual power of the two had already become intertwined.
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This overbearing man—she could hardly breathe, and still he wouldn’t let her go.
This couldn’t go on.
In her haze, a voice in her heart was still warning her.
Xu Ning was disturbed by demonic qi, his mind clouded.
She was a Golden Core Realm cultivator of Zhaoyue Cliff, the master of Lu Hanyi, and the “Shen Immortal Master” he called her.
She should push him away.
She should seal his meridians with her true essence—even if it hurt him, it would be better than letting things spiral further out of control.
But the moment Shen Yuwei formed that thought, the emerald vitality within Xu Ning’s body seemed to sense her retreat and clung to her spiritual power with even greater fervor.
“Ugh—ahhh—”
A violent current shot up her spine and slammed into her mind.
That restless life force burrowed into her golden core, like spring water seeping into parched, cracked earth, softening the burning pain she hadn’t been able to dissolve for years, bit by bit.
The strength she had barely managed to gather scattered in an instant.
“Xu Ning…”
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A cool touch fell upon her chest, finally pulling back a fraction of her composure.
No.
If this continued, there would truly be no stopping it.
“Look at me clearly.”
Shen Yuwei raised her hand to press against Xu Ning’s shoulder, her voice sharp and stern.
“Xu Ning, look at me clearly… Who am I?”
Xu Ning lowered his head to look at her.
At this moment, he had no idea what he was doing, only that breathing was difficult.
There seemed to be something in his grip—not only could one hand not hold it, but his palm had sunk completely into it.
The only thing he could see clearly was the person before him.
Her features were gentle, her hair mussed at the temples, her green robe clinging to a mature and voluptuous figure.
Those eyes, usually calm and smiling, were now red at the corners like crushed flower petals.
Xu Ning froze for a moment, and it seemed a sliver of clarity finally surfaced.
“Im… Immortal Master Shen? I, what’s happening to me…”
The painful, bewildered question made Shen Yuwei’s heart tighten.
He recognized her.
What was he doing?
What…
What was the situation right now?
Xu Ning gritted his teeth in agony, his head feeling like it would split open.
Shen Yuwei’s chest rose and fell violently once.
She should have pushed him away in that instant.
But the pained expression on Xu Ning’s face made her unable to muster the force.
She hadn’t noticed that when Xu Ning’s spiritual power had burst into her body, it had carried that trace of demonic qi along with it.
Now, it was affecting her mind as well.
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Xu Ning’s body went rigid.
Then, the pent-up heat that had been suppressed for so long finally seemed to find an outlet, and the spiritual power within both of them trembled with a resounding shock.
The bed let out a soft creak.
The lamp flames flickered within the curtain.
A torn strip of green robe slipped from the edge of the bed, drifting softly to the floor.
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That moon-white silk sock had been rubbed loose at some point.
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At this moment, Shen Yuwei’s dantian was filled with green spiritual light.
That old wound had long since been ground smooth, and the radiant, wondrous golden core now bore three colors: green, red, and black.
And her realm, dormant for so many years, had actually begun to loosen at this very moment.
Shen Yuwei sensed the change in her cultivation, but she simply couldn’t spare the attention to deal with it.
All she knew was that she was trapped in Xu Ning’s embrace.
Their lips and teeth pressed together, their breaths intertwined.
Green and moon-white spiritual light rose and fell in waves, bright and dim, intertwining within the curtain.
The torn strip of green robe at the bedside was gently stirred by the night wind.