Chapter 100
Translator: penny
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: Sun-Moon Star Alignment Great Harmony Scripture (1)
Saran read the Sun-Moon Star Alignment Great Harmony Scripture with a stern expression, scanning her surroundings. She hadn't paid attention to anything but Yong Yoo before, so this was to gather information on him.
'Liquor...'
The most striking thing was the alcohol. It was strong stuff, its pungent aroma filling the entire room.
This wasn't the kind of drink one savored for pleasure. It was cheap rotgut, guzzled solely to drown out hardship and numb the brain—not for the taste or the buzz itself.
A cultivator wouldn't get drunk on something like that, but it at least revealed some mental strain.
Next were the jade slips piled high in one corner, brimming with information. Scanning them with divine sense from afar, she saw they contained details on nearby terrain—and there were dozens with similar engravings.
Scattered among the info slips were books on purifying spirit energy. Some held solid advice, but most were riddled with superstitions and nonsense.
'Did he break up with a woman?'
The thought crossed Saran's mind after spotting the neatly wrapped items in one area.
Colorful robes, jackets, and armor adorned with feminine patterns and decorations were folded and packaged. Hairbands, ties, earrings, necklaces, rings—accessories littered about.
'Not death. They must've been separated somehow. A botched teleportation array, maybe?'
Learning Yong Yoo had been parted from a loved one stirred an odd sense of kinship in her.
Saran found her own behavior ridiculous. This brutal man who stole her husband, this crude brute who offered a dual cultivation method right after her submission—she was starting to pity him?
The face? Was it the face?
Tearing her eyes from the jade slip, Saran looked at Yong Yoo.
He was following his routine: handling a simple commission, gathering intel, then returning to the inn to meditate.
Starting with the Blazing Palm Seal—the first technique he'd ever learned—he was reviewing every spell in his arsenal, one by one.
Any might hold potential for improvement.
Just as his brush with death had unlocked new depths in the Cloud Concealment Art via insights from the Five Skandhas Enlightenment Art, he knew epiphanies from unrelated methods could influence others.
Saran quietly watched Yong Yoo's profile as he meditated.
And so, time passed.
"You memorized the method?"
Saran nodded at Yong Yoo's question. The scripture was profound, but with its triple seal, the foundational first stage was child's play for a Soul Transformation cultivator.
Yong Yoo nodded back, satisfied, and prepared for dual cultivation.
Saran watched him pull out high-quality bedding and pillows from his storage pouch with practiced ease.
'...He carries that around?'
What kind of person is this?
Yong Yoo spread out the bedding and silently began undressing.
As his outer robe fell away, a sculpted physique gleamed—muscles honed to perfection, like a statue come to life.
"... "
Saran's gaze drifted to Yong Yoo's face and body, inevitably comparing him to her husband.
The Falling Star Sect Leader had excelled more as an artifact artisan than a cultivator.
Decades crafting dharma treasures had left his neck thrust forward like a turtle's, his back hunched like a hunchback's, his frame gaunt and withered from long stagnation at Qi Refining. Wrinkles etched his entire body.
Shorter than Saran herself, she'd always cradled him tenderly during their intimacies.
Yong Yoo was different.
His face... incomparable.
'No, he's the freak. Right. My husband isn't bad.'
Denying reality, Saran ignored his face and judged the body alone. As a Lotus Body practitioner, appraising it came naturally.
'Long limbs... short torso. Broad shoulders.'
Not ideally trained from a Lotus Body perspective. But the muscle definition hinted at tremendous potential with proper work.
'Pretty body...'
Straight spine. Wide shoulders. Taut waist, thick thighs and calves. Large hands and feet. Even small motions became grand, commanding gestures—naturally drawing people in.
Then Saran spotted the monstrous serpent between his legs and recoiled at how utterly unlike any man's she'd known.
'Wh-what is that?!'
If her husband's was merely "protruding," Yong Yoo's seemed to "jut out."
Size, girth, shape—everything dwarfed her husband.
Though horrified, escape was impossible. Having submitted as a spirit once and sworn fealty, she moved as his possession.
His dominion over dharma treasures was leagues beyond ordinary cultivators—raw coercion.
This otherworldly soul force bred grave misconceptions in Saran.
'That coercive power can't be Core Formation... Are immortals' reincarnations superior even here?'
With such thoughts, she cautiously shed her clothes.
Pale blue skin etched with crimson talisman tattoos drew the eye naturally to her alluring curves.
Yong Yoo thought, honestly, what a relief.
This was purely for cultivation, but a beauty beat an eyesore any day.
"Come here."
Saran stood before him. Naked, they drew blood into a bowl, pooling essence blood.
"Your blood's black."
"My body no longer produces blood. As a ghost person, this is... essence energy extracted in its stead."
"I see. No issues with the method?"
"None. I've confirmed it. Studying various arts for the Netherworld Corpse Stillness Seal has honed my analysis."
"Good."
They blended their essence blood, then inscribed an array on their bedding space.
No array aptitude needed—this interfered with their bodies directly, bypassing terrain or feng shui.
Preparation done, they watched the remaining essence blood swirl and split in the bowl—confirmation the method worked. Yong Yoo ordered Saran onto the bedding.
"It's... forced, but I'll make it enjoyable. Wonder how much sticks with a Soul Transformation cultivator."
So saying, he gently laid hands on her body.
'Cold.'
First touch: silken skin, chilling like gooseflesh.
Corpse cold? But stroking carefully felt... different.
'Ghostly yin energy.'
Vitality should flow where instead dense, sticky netherworld aura pulsed—far thicker than usual.
'Do the dead have this instead of vitality? Or just ghost people tied to the underworld?'
Intriguing, but curiosity could wait. He pressed on, hand venturing more intimately.
'Oh, the breasts are soft.'
Expecting rigidity from her supreme Lotus Body Art—sword-proof at mastery—it surprised him.
'Sword immunity as a law? Not physical hardness, maybe a grand law protecting the body.'
Three thousand great daos fill the world—one per cultivator, some say. "Three thousand" symbolizes the infinite.
Laws birth from daos; cultivators wield them slightly via supernatural powers. Sword immunity could be such a dao.
'No reaction to normal stimulation?'
Saran unresponsive, Yong Yoo considered just entering her—but that seemed rude to a bed partner.
'Need some stimulus...'
Thinking, he gathered faint deathly spirit energy in his palm. Too much risked harm—not his goal.
The instant his deathly energy palm kneaded her breast, Saran jolted with a scream unlike any since mastering the seal.
"Eek?!"
A sharp stab from her chest. Pain to most, but to a Lotus Body practitioner? Pure bliss, no agony.
"Oh. Nice."
Satisfied by her reaction, Yong Yoo enveloped his body in faint deathly spirit energy, embracing her. Flames of pleasure engulfed her.
"Th-this...! Ngh!"
"Relax. You've felt pleasure plenty with your husband before becoming a ghost person."
Using command to calm her fiercely, he trailed hands softly from neck to cleft.
"...!!"
Vast ecstasy cascaded down her back, bowing her spine like a drawn bow. Seeing nectar flow from her core, Yong Yoo nodded approvingly.
"Remodeled into a ghost person post-mortem? Bodily responses intact where needed."
He observed her reactions to each touch. Each time, unheard-of rapture toyed with her.
Saran was suffering—for real.
With her husband, she'd always led gently, mindful of his frailty against her Lotus Body strength.
Sex was exhausting labor, all consideration for him. She did it routinely because he enjoyed it, but gained nothing herself.
'Dizzy...'
Now? Different.
Command-bound, unable to harm or resist Yong Yoo, she endured his unilateral onslaught.
One palm-stroke down her waist: lightning crackled in her brain, vision flashing white. Knead her breast: inward-thrusting pleasure made her still heart thunder.
"Hah... Heh... eugh..."
Limp, tongue lolling, she focused desperately to melt the invading bliss.
But his stimuli outpaced her dissipation. Unable to endure, she clutched him fiercely, pleading breathily in his ear.
"Please... focus on the method... I've never felt anything like this."
As Saran begged, Yong Yoo felt a primal surge of superiority, a smile creeping unbidden onto his lips.