Stockings Bewitch the Masses, High Heels Captivate Hearts
In the guest room, Mu Xueyi, who had been deep in cultivation, opened her eyes—only to meet Su Rui's profound gaze, forever laced with that hint of playful amusement.
"What's wrong, my wife?"
Mu Xueyi ignored him and closed her eyes again, resuming her cultivation.
These past few days, he'd stayed in this room, content to simply watch her cultivate quietly. Aside from forcing her to remove her veil on the second day, he hadn't crossed that clear sword mark on the floor even once.
At first, Mu Xueyi had remained utterly composed, her mind undisturbed as she circulated her qi through the heavenly cycle.
Her dao heart was steadfast; ordinary distractions could scarcely shake it.
But after several days in a row—whether she was sitting in meditation, perusing sword manuals, or merely gazing out the window for a brief rest—that gaze followed her like a shadow, clinging to her without ever shifting away.
It gradually stirred an inexplicable... unease within her.
The gaze wasn't lecherous, yet it was far more infuriating than outright lust.
It was a silent scrutiny, repeatedly brushing over her brows, the corners of her eyes, the bridge of her nose, her lips, and even the curve of her neck, the arc of her shoulders and back.
Absurdly, she even began to doubt herself. Had something stuck to her face? Or had her cultivation gone awry these past days, leaving her aura off-kilter?
What troubled her even more was realizing she was starting to subconsciously pay attention to his gaze.
At times, the instant a minor heavenly cycle completed and her spiritual energy settled into her dantian, she'd instinctively sense if he was still watching.
Other times, when shifting her posture after sitting too long, she'd inexplicably consider which pose appeared more dignified and aloof, better shielding her from that irritating stare.
Even small actions like adjusting her sleeves or brushing back a stray lock of hair now carried a faint, imperceptible hesitation.
This detestable bastard... does he have some weird fetish? Mu Xueyi fumed inwardly. Even if my looks are passable, staring day and night like this—surely even the world's most stunning beauty would grow tiresome. Doesn't he ever get bored?
This wordless, relentless "harassment" disturbed her focus far more than any verbal clash.
At one point, she even impulsively wanted to don her veil again, hiding this troublesome face completely.
Out of sight, out of mind—maybe that would snap his fixation and grant her some peace.
But the thought had barely formed when she glanced at Su Rui's "well-behaved" demeanor.
He had indeed kept his promise, never stepping beyond the sword mark.
If she put the veil back on now, it would seem like she was making a fuss over nothing—as if he'd seen through that tiny flicker of unease in her.
Fine.
Mu Xueyi huffed coldly to herself, forcibly suppressing the discomfort. If he wants to look, let him. My heart is a clear mirror, my body an unyielding boulder. How could a mere gaze disrupt me?
She recomposed herself, trying to treat that omnipresent stare like flowing water over bluestone or a breeze atop a mountain peak—completely excluded from her state of mind.
Yet that "water" rushed fiercely, that "breeze" burned hot, always carrying Su Rui's unique domineering heat, quietly eroding the focus and calm she struggled to maintain.
Time slipped away in this silent tug-of-war and torment.
Finally, the day of the auction arrived.
Morning sunlight pierced Black Abyss City's perpetual demonic haze, casting sparse, mottled shadows.
The streets teemed with demonic figures, more raucous than usual. Streaks of powerful demonic light streaked across the sky, many laced with the heart-palpitating aura of Nascent Soul cultivators—clearly drawn by today's auction.
Mu Xueyi slowly withdrew from her cultivation, a faint trace of relief flickering across her peerless face.
Today, at last, she could escape this cramped space and that endless scrutiny.
The moment her eyes opened, that familiar gaze, brimming with amused intent, arrived right on cue.
"It's about time, my wife. We should head out."
Su Rui rose lazily, stretching his limbs.
Mu Xueyi nodded expressionlessly, suppressing the tangle of emotions in her chest. She straightened her attire and led the way out the door.
Su Rui followed at a leisurely pace. The two emerged from Hidden Spring Pavilion one after the other, merging into the crowd heading toward the auction house.
The auction house stood at Black Abyss City's heart—a massive black structure like a crouching beast, its entrance emblazoned with the words "Auction House" in subdued dark gold.
Guards stood vigil at the doors, several Core Formation cultivators scanning entrants with electric gazes.
Mu Xueyi's expression remained calm as she moved with the flow toward the ordinary entrance for regular cultivators. But suddenly, a warm hand enveloped her cool fingertips, gripping them firmly without asking.
She frowned and turned to rebuke him, but Su Rui was already leading her aside. "My wife, this way."
He indicated a wide passage carpeted in deep red velvet, flanked by waiting attendants in a serene, secluded contrast to the bustling crowd nearby.
"That's the VIP passage."
Mu Xueyi blurted it out instinctively. Before the words fully left her lips, he had already pulled her onto the carpet.
The attendant at the entrance approached at once, her tone respectful yet probing. "Honored guests, please present your invitation or VIP token."
With a flick of Su Rui's fingers, a purple-gold token edged in gold and engraved with "Gathering Treasures" appeared in his other hand.
At the sight, the attendant's face filled with awe. She bowed deeply. "Such esteemed guests with the Purple-Gold Token! This servant's eyes were blind—my deepest apologies! Please, follow me. Box Three in the Heaven character section has been reserved for you."
She stepped aside to guide them, her posture humbly deferential—worlds apart from her scripted politeness moments ago.
A flash of astonishment crossed Mu Xueyi's eyes. Only as Su Rui led her into the tranquil passage did she snap back, instinctively trying to pull her hand free.
Su Rui didn't resist, releasing her with the motion.
Once her slender hand escaped that irritating warmth, she immediately sent a voice transmission: This Purple-Gold Token... where did you get it?
Su Rui turned his head, his voice transmission carrying a mocking lilt: I fished it out of that old ghost Blood Nether's storage pouch when I took him down.
Mu Xueyi's beautiful eyes flashed with skepticism. If you'd made up some other excuse, I might have believed you a little. But a Nascent Soul cultivator's storage pouch is layered with complex restrictions. The moment the owner falls or is fully subjugated, it self-destructs in an instant—how could you possibly snag it so easily?
From the Foundation Establishment stage onward, cultivators set such restrictions on their pouches to prevent their life's accumulations from benefiting others upon death. Only Qi Refining novices lacked the skill for such intricate seals.
Su Rui's brows arched slightly, his voice transmission laced with teasing: Then how do you think your husband got that Millennium Blood Jade, my wife?
Mu Xueyi fell silent, momentarily at a loss.
Could he have seized Blood Nether Demon Lord's pouch before fully killing him, then cracked its seals to extract what he needed?
Given his unfathomable mastery of restrictions, it didn't seem entirely impossible...
As her mind raced through these outlandish possibilities, Su Rui suddenly chuckled via voice transmission: Don't rack your brains guessing, my wife. This Purple-Gold Token isn't from that old ghost Blood Nether. A few days ago, your husband dropped by the Gathering Treasures Pavilion and traded some knickknacks they desperately needed for spirit stones. They were so grateful they insisted on shoving this token at me—I could barely refuse.
Enough.
Mu Xueyi shot him a cold glance, her tone thick with impatience and "as expected": I shouldn't have asked.
This explanation sounded even more absurd and offhand than the last.
Trading "knickknacks" for Gathering Treasures Pavilion's highest-tier Purple-Gold Token? Did he think the auction house—with branches even in righteous territories—was child's play?
Su Rui watched her turn away, a faint smile crossing his face.
Sometimes, the truth sounded like the clumsiest lie.
Under the attendant's deferential guidance, they entered the auction house's inner venue.
Their emergence via the VIP passage instantly drew a flood of curious stares.
Neither had suppressed their cultivation; their Nascent Soul auras flowed naturally, signaling formidable strength.
In this den of dragons and serpents, low cultivation invited covetous eyes on prized lots. Better to intimidate upfront and avoid needless trouble.
Yet these two unfamiliar faces—both Nascent Soul cultivators, strolling the VIP passage—were bound to turn heads.
Especially the veiled woman: though her face was hidden, her graceful figure and poised gait exuded natural elegance, wrapped in an aloof, otherworldly air.
Who lay beneath that thin gauze—a tempestuous demonic seductress, or a pure righteous fairy?
Curiosity stirred, but Nascent Soul might deterred most from approaching rashly.
Su Rui sent a teasing voice transmission: Relax, my wife. No one's going to peg you as Mu Xueyi just because you're early Nascent Soul.
Mu Xueyi's gaze remained icy. Don't flatter yourself. When have I ever been nervous?
Su Rui chuckled softly and said no more.
They followed the attendant through a lavish corridor studded with luminous pearls into a spacious Heaven-character Box Three.
The front wall was a flawless crystal glass pane, offering a full view of the auction floor below while shielding them from outside eyes.
A plush snow fox carpet cushioned the floor; spirit wood tables and chairs were artfully arranged, laden with spirit fruits and immortal brews. In the corner, an agarwood censer wafted soothing, calming incense.
Soon after they settled, a stir erupted at the entrance.
A entourage ushered a graceful woman through the VIP passage.
Clad in form-fitting goose-yellow attire, it accentuated her lithe, curvaceous figure perfectly.
Her skin gleamed snow-white, her features exquisitely painted—seven or eight parts akin to Yan Mingli, yet lacking her mother's lazy allure, gaining instead a cool, heroic edge.
She was Yan Mingli's daughter, the Eternal Night Palace Saintess—Yan Qingci.
Her arrival seized every gaze.
Not just for her stunning form, but the stooped crone shadowing her steps.
The old woman wore drab gray robes, her face withered, but her eyes abyssal voids. Her spiritual fluctuations marked late Nascent Soul cultivation!
Like a silent specter, she guarded Yan Qingci, rendering the Saintess untouchable.
"That's the demoness Yan Mingli's daughter—Yan Qingci, right?"
"She's here too! This auction must have real treasures!"
"The old hag with her... Granny Grayfiend of Eternal Night Palace? A late Nascent Soul monster! Yan Mingli sent her to bodyguard her daughter personally?"
"After Yan Palace Lord's appearance at Sword Sect's infant formation ceremony, Eternal Night Palace is gearing up for something big. The Saintess is out and about more..."
Whispers spread like tides, laced with shock, awe, and speculation on Eternal Night Palace's moves.
Yan Qingci ignored the buzz, her expression coldly arrogant as attendants led her to Heaven-character Box One, not far from Su Rui's.
Granny Grayfiend trailed like a ghost. Before entering, her seemingly cloudy eyes flicked toward Su Rui's box, narrowing his own gaze even through the glass.
"Yan Qingci..."
Mu Xueyi peered through the glass too. Indeed, she resembled her mother strongly—though far from her power, that arrogance and presence were taking shape.
Then came the demonic heavyweights.
Blood Fiend Sect's Grand Elder arrived in pomp with several elders, sparking immediate murmurs.
Recent rumors of their young lord and Blood Nether's sudden deaths had swept demonkind. Blood Fiend Sect denied it vehemently, but the young lord's absence fueled suspicions.
This grand entrance aimed to flaunt their sect's stability, warning lurking opportunists.
As Blood Fiend Sect's buzz faded, a slender figure glided in via VIP.
In elegant plain robes, her raven hair loosely pinned with a jade clasp, she silenced even the Blood Fiend chatter.
"Joyous Union Sect's Sect Master, Hua Xiangrong..."
Someone murmured in awe. After all, this Joyous Union leader ranked ninth on the beauty list.
Hua Xiangrong entered without flaunting pressure, but her mid Nascent Soul aura rippled subtly with each graceful step.
Her bright eyes swept the hall indifferently, yet every man meeting them felt their hearts sway uncontrollably.
Su Rui glimpsed her face through the glass and commented offhand, "Not bad-looking."
Mu Xueyi's lips curved in a faint, mocking smile. "If she catches your eye, why not set your sights on her? No need to dally with me."
Su Rui burst out laughing, turning to her. "Compared to you, the Cultivation World's number one beauty, she's roadside trash. And mid Nascent Soul? Who knows how many men's primal yang she drained to stack that realm? Laozi has zero interest in such sloppy seconds."
Mu Xueyi's eyes flickered subtly. "That's prejudice. Maybe she's kept herself pure, and her technique is just honest qi absorption from heaven and earth."
Su Rui scoffed, shaking his head teasingly. "That fairy tale only exists in storybooks."
As they bantered, Hua Xiangrong elegantly entered her private box.
Then Ten Thousand Souls Ridge's Young Master arrived amid wailing soul shrieks, followed by several reclusive old demons slipping in quietly.
In moments, the hall brimmed with undercurrents, factions checking each other into delicate balance.
The auction commenced promptly, hosted by a sharp-featured, booming early Nascent Soul cultivator.
The first lot wasn't a treasure but five veiled beauties in thin gauze—lovely faces fearful yet hopeful, all Foundation Establishment virgins of fine talent.
The host waxed eloquent on their purity and potential.
Mu Xueyi's exquisite face frosted over at the sight of women auctioned openly. Her slender hand clenched; she hissed lowly, "Demonic cultivators—utterly sinful wretches! Treating lives like weeds, women like merchandise!"
Su Rui lounged against the soft chairback, fingers drumming the armrest. He chuckled lightly. "You're angry out of righteous pity and justice, my wife—that's good. But you might not know: most of these women aren't abducted. They volunteer for auction."
"Voluntarily? Impossible!"
"You don't get it because in demon lands, for low-tier female cultivators, the path is brutal on their own. Auction is their fastest, direct shot at high-rank cultivators. See the terms: bidders must be Core Formation or above, signing at minimum a heart demon concubine contract. Once bought, they get stable cultivation environs and resources—leagues better than wandering destitute. It's a gamble for a future."
Mu Xueyi fell silent. Born a prodigy, nurtured by Sword Sect, she'd never known bottom-rung struggles.
Su Rui's words were harsh, but they unveiled a cruel reality of the Cultivation World's underbelly she'd never touched.
Her anger lingered, now tinged with heavy complexity.
"But how do you know this?"
"Forgot? Laozi soul-searched that Blood Fiend young lord. Info straight from him."
Su Rui smiled lightly—no lie there, though deeper secrets came from Blood Nether Demon Lord.
In the end, Ten Thousand Souls Ridge's Young Master took all five at ten thousand spirit stones each.
When the second lot unveiled amid eager eyes, puzzled murmurs rippled through.
Atop the display: not divine weapons or elixirs, but gossamer silk weaves in rows, plus five pairs of outrageously slender-heeled shoes.
"What in the world?"
Someone finally voiced it.
The host smiled calmly, clapping. "Patience, fellow daoists. Allow me to explain."
"These silks are called stockings; those long-heeled shoes, high heels."
He paused, then spun a tale: "Legend says they hail from a once-dazzling genius. Fate turned cruel—he lost qi absorption, became a 'waste.' On his fiancée's family wedding-cancellation day, he roared 'Thirty years east, thirty years west—don't bully the young!' Only to be slain mercilessly.
"From his notes, others crafted these designs. Female cultivators don them, and behold—peerless allure, steps like blooming lotuses, even heaven's qi pauses!"
Amusing yarn, but did they truly mesmerize so? Only trying would tell.
The host grinned. "Don't fret—here come ten ladies to demonstrate."
Ten graceful women ascended, beauties in simple breast wraps and underskirts, glowing like moonlit fairies under spirit lights.
The first delicately unfurled sheer black stockings.
Under heated stares, she elegantly sheathed her long jade legs. The silk hugged her curves perfectly, lace garters teasing at the thigh roots—mystery incarnate.
The second displayed white thigh-highs studded with tiny spirit stones, sparkling seductively.
She slowed deliberately, inching silk over pale legs till lace bit a faint red mark at the top.
The third presented a full set: black lace bra, matching panties, fishnet stockings.
Changing openly, the sheer bra barely veiled her full swells; fishnets teased legs phantom-like, drawing gasps from below.
The host chimed: "Behold—beyond black silk, white silk, fishnets, lace sets: pantyhose, garter belts in varied hues! Each unique, slightly boosting charm techniques based on the wearer's realm."
As he spoke, they modeled: pantyhose sheathing hips and legs flawlessly; garters with corsets; designs shocking even jaded demons.
Most stunning: all donned the high heels.
Lined up, their steps clicked rhythmic beats. Silk-sheathed legs gleamed softly; heels arched postures tall, hips swaying hypnotically.
Click... click...
The heel strikes strummed heartstrings.
Male cultivators gaped silent, only swallows echoing.
Blazing eyes locked onstage, devouring every curve.
Even Su Rui's throat bobbed; he stared intently, occasionally glancing at Mu Xueyi.
He couldn't help envisioning her long legs in those stockings and heels—what perfection.
Mu Xueyi caught his scorching gaze, instantly divining the lecher's filthy fantasies.