The Spirit Pill Throbs, Beauties Compete in Splendor
In the Heavenly Extreme Hall, immortal music floated ethereally while the fragrance of spiritual fruits wafted through the air. Yet beneath this serene facade, invisible undercurrents were surging silently.
The various sect leaders sat poised behind their tables, exchanging cups and laughing heartily. But the subtle clashes of their divine senses and the brief intersections of their gazes all betrayed mutual probing and wariness.
Xuan Qing Zhenren had already returned to the Tianyuan Sect's seating area. The forced smile he'd worn in front of Yan Mingli was long gone, replaced by profound gravity.
He sent a private voice transmission to the trusted elder beside him: "Yan Mingli's reemergence is far from a simple attendance at the ceremony. Pass the order down—have our sect disciples watch their words and actions. They must not provoke anyone from Eternal Night Palace. This woman's cultivation... even after two hundred years, still sends chills down my spine."
The elder's expression tightened at the words, and he quietly relayed the command.
Not far away, several Chi Xiao Sect elders appeared to sit quietly observing the ceremony, but they were exchanging endless voice transmissions in secret.
"Earlier, that Xuan Qing Zhenren was about to lash out, only for Yan Mingli's divine sense to crush him back into his seat. This demoness's cultivation has likely reached the peak of the Half-God realm—profound and unfathomable. Her visit this time surely hides ulterior motives."
"Sigh. If she truly ascends to full God Transformation, bound by the laws of heaven and earth, she wouldn't dare meddle lightly in mortal affairs. But she's stuck at this Half-God peak bottleneck. Her divine abilities probably rival an ordinary God Transformation cultivator's, yet she's not fully restricted by those supreme laws... That's what makes her so terrifying. Below God Transformation, I'm afraid no one can check her."
"Watch your words!"
The white-haired lead elder interrupted via voice transmission, his brow furrowed in utmost solemnity: "Today is Sword Sect's grand celebration. We are guests—mind our place. Don't speculate wildly and stir unrest."
Though he said this, the oppressive weight on the elders' hearts did not lessen in the slightest.
Yan Mingli's presence was like a sword hanging overhead, its descent unpredictable. Her danger surpassed even a true God Transformation cultivator, leaving people sleepless and without appetite.
She wouldn't strike openly, of course. But her reemergence likely heralded another storm in the Cultivation World. For the righteous path, already at a disadvantage, it was undoubtedly another fatal blow.
In the area where demonic cultivators gathered, the atmosphere was somewhat feverish.
The Poison Gu Sect's sect master—a gaunt elder shrouded in faint green robes—gazed at Yan Mingli with awe, even a hint of sycophancy.
He murmured lowly to those around him: "Palace Lord Yan's elegance surpasses her former glory. With her here, let's see those righteous hypocrites act arrogant!"
Excitement gleamed in the eyes of the demonic cultivators beside him, as if they could already envision the demonic path's flames soaring, utterly overwhelming the righteous.
At the eye of this storm, Yan Mingli seemed utterly detached.
She lounged lazily against her chair, one slender jade hand propping her chin, her fingertips tapping rhythmically on the table. That faint, regular sound carried an odd cadence, causing nearby cultivators to unconsciously hold their breath, their conversations dying down.
Her phoenix eyes were half-closed, long, thick lashes casting faint shadows on her lids, concealing the true emotions within.
Yet when she occasionally lifted her gaze, that profound starry-sea depth pierced all illusions, chilling anyone who met it to the bone.
Yan Qingci stood quietly at her mother's side, her posture like a proud plum blossom in snow.
Her goose-yellow tight-fitting attire stood out sharply amid the sea of loose robes and wide sleeves.
Facing the gazes from all directions—probing, wary, even veiled hostility—her delicate chin lifted slightly, a faint, cold arc at her lips.
To her, these so-called righteous luminaries were mostly mediocrities. Their cultivation might surpass hers, but they weren't worth a proper glance.
Her confidence stemmed not just from her own talent, but from the godlike, demonic figure beside her.
Her eyes swept over the cultivators silenced by her mother's mere glance, a flicker of disdain passing through them.
Only when her gaze returned to Yan Mingli did that cold pride melt into pure, near-worshipful reverence.
Her mother's presence itself was a declaration, forcing even this righteous bastion to acknowledge the demonic path's splendor.
Yan Mingli seemed to sense her daughter's mood without turning.
She made no overt move, merely pausing her lazy fingertip taps. A stronger, more restrained divine sense brushed over Yan Qingci like gentle spring rain, carrying reassurance and affirmation.
This wasn't protection—it was a silent message: Ignore the insects' stares. You have your own pride.
Xuan Qing Zhenren witnessed this wordless exchange between mother and daughter, his heart growing even more conflicted.
Yan Qingci's poise and arrogance, beyond her years, was clearly a mirror of Yan Mingli's upbringing. With such capable instruction—and her already at late Core Formation at such a young age—Eternal Night Palace had no fear of lacking successors.
At that moment, Yan Mingli's red lips parted slightly, her voice audible only to Yan Qingci, laced with lazy amusement: "Qingci, look at these assembled luminaries, each with their own schemes—for fame, profit, or trapped by righteous-demonic divides. Like koi fighting over food in a pond: lively on the surface, but unable to leap beyond their confines."
Her gaze seemed to pierce the hall's ceiling toward endless void: "Mu Xueyi... I hope she's not just a bigger fish, but a true dragon that can breach the surface and behold the firmament."
Yan Qingci's lips twitched sourly: "Mother places such high expectations on this Mu Xueyi?"
Yan Mingli smiled without replying. As the pinnacle of a bygone era, she naturally wanted to witness this era's pinnacle—what grace it might hold.
Her visit was ostensibly for the ceremony, truly to appraise Mu Xueyi. But deeper still, amid this convergence of winds and clouds, she weighed the era's destiny, seeking an opponent to banish her loneliness.
The hall's atmosphere hung in delicate balance because of her—a calm before the storm.
All knew the true climax of this Nascent Soul ceremony lay not in the current pomp, but in the invisible clash between the heaven's proud daughter about to take the stage and this world-shaking demonic palace lord.
The air thrummed with tightening invisible strings, awaiting the protagonist's arrival to unleash an epic symphony.
Then, after a period of waiting, Yan Mingli's half-closed phoenix eyes snapped open, a dark glint flashing in their depths. An enigmatic arc curved her lips: "She's here."
Outside the Heavenly Extreme Hall, auspicious clouds churned, immortal music swelling as if heaven and earth awaited that figure's descent.
Mu Xueyi's form emerged slowly from the cloud sea, drifting gracefully onto the crowded plaza.
Her Starlan Rainbow Robes shimmered with flowing spiritual light, a cascade of starry rivers in her skirts, spiritual crystals twinkling like stars, rendering her a celestial fairy descended to the mortal realm.
Her peerlessly refined features bore a touch of pale rouge at brow and eyes, adding subtle allure without diminishing her icy nobility.
Her arrival plunged the boisterous plaza into eerie silence. Countless gazes locked onto her—stunned admiration, awe, even greed—whirling into an invisible tempest.
Su Rui followed closely, his escaping light fading as he landed at her side.
His personal disciple robes gleamed with embroidered gold, a roguish smirk on his lips. But his eyes remained fixed on her back, Lust and malice intertwined as he savored the shameful secret beneath her poised, fairy-like grace.
That lewd spirit pill was gripped tightly by her White Tiger Steamed Bun Hole, throbbing faintly with her steps, sending waves of indescribable stimulation.
Mu Xueyi's expression remained unchanged, cold light flickering in her peach-blossom eyes, oblivious to the surrounding stares.
Her feet tapped lightly, propelling her airward in graceful strides toward the Heavenly Extreme Hall.
Each step danced on invisible sword intent.
Nascent Soul pressure emanated naturally from her, restrained perfectly— a refreshing breeze to low-rank disciples, without oppression.
Su Rui watched her enter the hall. To him, this restrained, feigned serenity was just her usual haughtiness.
He didn't bother scoffing, sauntering after her at a leisurely pace.
As her personal disciple, he was fully qualified to observe from within.
In the hall, Yan Mingli's phoenix eyes lifted slightly, fixing on the approaching Mu Xueyi. A meaningful smile curved her lips: "Indeed, her reputation is well-earned."
The words acknowledged Mu Xueyi's title as the Cultivation World's foremost beauty—and subtly praised her talent.
Yan Qingci stared at Mu Xueyi too, unwillingness flashing in her eyes. Yet she had to admit, this woman's allure was stunning, even surpassing her most revered mother.
The world truly held a woman more beautiful than her mother.
Those Starlan Rainbow Robes seemed tailor-made for her, accentuating her icy grace and breathtaking beauty to perfection.
But she wouldn't concede. Biting her lip: "Mother, she's nothing special. How does she compare to you?"
Yan Mingli chuckled lightly, teasing: "Qingci, why so sour? If she weren't worth my regard, why would I come in person? Take a closer look at her aura—Nascent Soul freshly formed, yet already stable and rounded, hinting at mid-stage. Such aptitude is limitless. If you want to surpass her, you'll need to redouble your efforts."
Yan Qingci's pretty face flushed, she huffed, clenched her fists, fighting spirit igniting in her gaze. She said no more.
The hall's titans focused on Mu Xueyi as well.
Xuan Qing Zhenren narrowed his eyes, transmitting to his elder: "This woman's talent is peerless. With her in Sword Sect, we Tianyuan Sect won't lead the righteous path for the next millennium."
His tone held resignation—and admiration.
Chi Xiao Sect's lord, Lie Tianqing, boomed a laugh, eyes burning on Mu Xueyi: "Haha! Worthy of Sword Sect's supreme prodigy. As righteous path leader, Sword Sect's foundations are profound. Now adding such a young Nascent Soul powerhouse—their fortune is enviable! But—Palace Lord Yan's personal attendance isn't mere observation. Surely to test this girl's depths?"
The Poison Gu Sect's green-robed elder snorted coldly, malice in his eyes: "Hmph, righteous leader or not? Her talent is exceptional, but she's too young—whether she'll mature is unknown. What is Palace Lord Yan, to bother with this junior?"
Murmurs rose like tides, righteous and demonic paths clashing verbally.
Mu Xueyi ignored it all, ascending straight to the main dais and seating herself.
Her gaze swept calmly over the assembly. When it crossed Yan Mingli, her heart jolted—this woman's aura was an abyssal sea. Even Mu Xueyi's divine sense couldn't pierce her true cultivation.
Their eyes met midair.
Clear light swirled in Mu Xueyi's peach-blossom eyes; playful amusement danced in Yan Mingli's phoenix gaze.
No words passed, but their divine senses collided invisibly in the void!
The instant pressure jolted aware cultivators. Yet in a finger-snap, the senses clashed once and dispersed, as if nothing occurred.
"Interesting."
Yan Mingli's red lips parted faintly, her voice inaudible, tinged with delight: "Mu Xueyi's divine sense is tougher than I imagined. But... compared to that little thief who spied on us mother and daughter, it's a step short."
Her phoenix eyes scanned the hall but detected no trace. That thief clearly wasn't attending the ceremony.
She had no idea Su Rui was already blended into the crowd, his aura-concealment art fully altering his presence. Even Yan Mingli's Half-God divine sense couldn't track him by aura.
Mu Xueyi rose, nodding slightly to the guests, her voice clear and cold as jade, resounding through the hall: "Fellow Daoists, thank you for journeying from afar. Today's Nascent Soul ceremony is Sword Sect's grand event and a chance for righteous and demonic paths to exchange. May we all discuss the Great Dao and bear witness to the immortal path together."
Her voice flowed like a clear spring, laced with intangible sword intent, instantly soothing the hall's hidden tensions.
Cultivators nodded, inwardly praising her extraordinary bearing—worthy of Sword Sect's generational prodigy.
Su Rui lurked in the crowd, eyes never leaving Mu Xueyi's alluring figure.
Beneath those Star billow Rainbow Robes, her lofty snow peaks rose and fell with her breaths, faintly visible.
Who could guess she wore no undergarments—utterly bare within. If not for the robes' slight thickness veiling those two tender pink tips, they'd have been exposed to all.
Su Rui licked his lips, silently urging a wisp of demonic qi to stealthily activate the spirit pill clamped in her White Tiger Steamed Bun Hole.
In an instant, Mu Xueyi's lithe body trembled imperceptibly, her cold composure nearly cracking.
The spirit pill writhed like a lewd serpent in her White Tiger Steamed Bun Hole.
Each throb brought waves of utterly shameful tingling pleasure, like countless tiny currents exploding at her sensitive core, battering her resilient Dao heart.
Her snow-white thighs clenched instinctively, teeth grinding as spiritual power surged wildly to suppress the humiliating ecstasy.
Su Rui's lips curved in a wicked grin, transmitting: "Master, relax a bit. Make sure to clamp tight so it doesn't slip out. Otherwise, losing face at the ceremony—don't blame laozi for not warning you."
Fury flashed in Mu Xueyi's eyes, but she dared not respond, fully focused on maintaining her poised, fairy-like grace. Her hands secretly formed seals, trying to isolate the spirit pill's interference.
Yet the pill, forged by Su Rui's demonic qi specifically to shatter her Dao heart, only thrashed more violently the harder she suppressed it.
Were it not for her spiritual power forcibly sealing her lower body, guarding her final line, she'd have gushed nectar endlessly under all these eyes, exposing her disgrace.
Even so, with her utmost efforts, a faint orchid-like fragrance still seeped from her White Tiger Steamed Bun Hole—the scent of her lewd fluids, sweet and cloying, drifting subtly.
The peak masters and grand elders beside her keenly caught the unusual aroma. One grand elder flared his nostrils lightly, smiling: "Xueyi, what perfume are you wearing today? So elegantly rich—truly refreshing."
Mu Xueyi trembled faintly at the words, shame and rage flickering in her peach-blossom eyes. Forcing composure, she replied coolly: "Just a casual balm I mixed. Grand Elder overpraises."
Internally, she burned with mortification, aching to cleave Su Rui to shreds with a sword. But at the ceremony's heart, she could only steel her icy facade, pretending nothing was amiss.
Yan Mingli keenly noted the subtle fluctuation in Mu Xueyi's aura. Doubt flickered in her phoenix eyes, then deepened into thought.
Yet even with her keen mind, she could never imagine that this poised,immortal-like woman on the high dais was bare beneath, with a lewd spirit pill stuffed in her White Tiger Steamed Bun Hole.