Chapter 195 Even a Saintess Bows Down
Time within the ancient hall seemed disconnected from the outside world, with only the suspended moonlight silently flowing between the vaulted ceiling and the jade tiles. Mu Changge sat cross-legged at his ease on a piece of luminous warm jade, just three steps away from Saintess Ling Xiyue, propping his chin with one hand. His gaze, carrying a hint of amusement, swept over the breathtaking curves of her bound form, made even more so by her struggles—the slight rise and fall of her chest, and the slender yet resilient waist and long legs accentuated into an 'S' shape by the rope.
Saintess Ling Xiyue kept her eyes tightly shut, her long eyelashes trembling violently. Her chest heaved with intense emotion. The terror transmitted by her split Soul intertwined with the humiliation of her main body being restrained, nearly burning away her reason. However, the composure and ability to weigh consequences cultivated over years of training in the Holy Trace allowed her to forcefully suppress the impulse that threatened to erupt. She was acutely aware that any extreme words or actions now could become the spark that would provoke this demon and lead to even more terrible consequences.
"Not speaking?" Mu Changge's voice was exceptionally clear in the vast, silent hall, carrying a tone of playful scrutiny. "Fine. Then let's talk about something else."
He flicked his finger lightly. A wisp of Devilish Qi, black as ink yet shimmering faintly with dark gold, rose from his fingertip. It swirled and coiled in his palm. This aura was completely at odds with the pure, holy moonlight and Spiritual Qi essence within the hall. Where they made contact, even faint, uncomfortable sizzling sounds of corrosion could be heard.
"Recognize this?" Mu Changge brought the wisp of Devilish Qi in his palm closer, swaying it slowly before her eyes. Even with her eyes closed, Saintess Ling Xiyue could clearly sense the pure, devouring, and malevolent essence it contained, causing her to frown slightly.
Her eyes snapped open. A flash of shock and suspicion she couldn't quite conceal appeared in her beautiful eyes. The quality of this Devilish Qi, its pure and domineering nature, far surpassed that of any Demonic Path Cultivator she had ever seen. That wisp of terrifying devouring intent within it even made her Divine Soul tremble with an instinctual fear.
"You... who exactly are you?" Saintess Ling Xiyue finally spoke, her voice slightly hoarse from dryness and tension, yet she still struggled to maintain a trace of her usual cool timbre. "Devilish Qi of such ultimate purity... is absolutely not something an ordinary Demonic Path Cultivator could possess. What is your purpose in infiltrating my Sect's Secret Realm?"
"Purpose?" Mu Changge let out a soft laugh. The Devilish Qi at his fingertip quietly dissipated as if it had never been there. "It's simple..." He stood up and walked slowly to where Saintess Ling Xiyue was tightly bound and sitting slumped on the ground. He looked down at her from above. "For example, right now, I want to hear you call me 'Young Master'."
Saintess Ling Xiyue raised her eyes to glare at him in disbelief, her pale cheeks instantly flushing with the blood of extreme humiliation. "Never! Who do you think you are? I am the Saintess of the Yunmiao Holy Trace, how could I possibly..."
"Saintess?" Mu Changge cut her off without the slightest courtesy, his tone suddenly turning icy, carrying a bone-chilling coldness and mockery. "Right now, you are merely a plaything in my palm, a prisoner at my feet!" He slowly crouched down, reached out, and with a trace of coldness on his fingertip, he lightly, provocatively brushed across her smooth yet tense cheek. He felt the instant stiffening of her skin and the tremor in her Soul transmitted from the split Soul.
"Say it," he commanded. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an indisputable pressure. Simultaneously, he willed a slight movement, activating the split Soul belonging to Saintess Ling Xiyue within him.
"Ugh..." Saintess Ling Xiyue suddenly let out a muffled groan. Her exquisite face twisted slightly from the sudden, intense pain. She felt a tearing agony deep within her Soul, as if an invisible, icy hand were gripping her fiercely, wantonly kneading and squeezing! This pain reached her very Origin, far surpassing any physical injury, causing her vision to darken instantly, nearly making her faint.
"You... what did you do to me?" Her voice was hoarse, laden with pain and horror she could hardly suppress. She barely managed to keep from crying out, but the violent trembling of her body and her abruptly weakened aura completely betrayed the terrible torment she was enduring.
"Just helping you recognize reality," Mu Changge's voice was icy, devoid of any emotion. He watched with detached amusement as Saintess Ling Xiyue's body curled up in pain, his fingertip seeming to play with invisible threads in the void. "Although I don't know why it entered my body, now that I hold the split Soul, making you do whatever I want is merely a matter of thought!" He paused slightly, looking with satisfaction at the abruptly magnified fear in Saintess Ling Xiyue's eyes. "Now, answer me. Would you like to continue experiencing the feeling of having your Soul ground to pieces bit by bit, or... learn to be more obedient?"
Saintess Ling Xiyue gasped for breath, fine beads of cold sweat breaking out on her temples—a physiological reaction triggered by the Soul-deep agony. She had never experienced such profound and terrifying pain before. The other party wasn't threatening her with violence or physical torture, but had directly grasped the power of life and death over her very Soul! This was more despair-inducing than any known torment. She instinctively tried to mobilize her Spiritual Qi to resist. However, the moment the thought arose, the squeezing, tearing sensation acting on the split Soul suddenly intensified. The Spiritual Qi she had barely managed to gather instantly dissipated, and the pain wracked her body with spasms, nearly causing her to collapse completely.
"It seems Her Highness the Saintess still needs a little 'help' to adapt." A flicker of impatience passed through Mu Changge's eyes. He willed another movement, subtly changing the 'care' he was giving to that wisp of split Soul.
"Ah—!" This time, Saintess Ling Xiyue finally couldn't suppress a short, sharp cry of agony. The pain was no longer a continuous crushing, but had transformed into countless high-frequency, sharp Soul-piercing stabs, as if countless red-hot ice needles were repeatedly stabbing her most vulnerable spiritual consciousness! She could no longer maintain any semblance of composure, collapsing completely to the ground. Her moon-white gauze dress was soaked with cold sweat, clinging to her skin and outlining a wretched, vulnerable curve.
"Stop... stop it... I beg you..." In the face of Soul pain that could shatter even a will of steel, Saintess Ling Xiyue finally squeezed out words of submission from between her clenched teeth, though they were filled with boundless humiliation.
Mu Changge timely ceased the 'punishment.' The pain receded like a tide, but the icy fear of having her Soul held in another's hand, her life and death no longer her own, was now deeply rooted in her heart. Saintess Ling Xiyue lay sprawled on the ground like a fish out of water, her chest heaving violently. Tears shimmered in her beautiful eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall. The dazed aftermath of surviving a calamity, along with a deeper, Soul-originating tremor towards the man before her, lingered for a long time.
"Good," Mu Changge finally spoke slowly, his tone carrying a hint of a controller's satisfaction. "It seems we can communicate more efficiently now. First, I don't like looking down." He gently nudged Saintess Ling Xiyue's calf, which was still twitching slightly from the pain, with the tip of his foot. "Get up. Sit properly. Then, tell me... everything about you."
Saintess Ling Xiyue's body trembled. Struggling, she managed to sit up, leaning against the cold jade wall behind her. She kept her head slightly lowered, unwilling and afraid to meet Mu Changge's eyes. Her voice was weak but clear: "Ling... Saintess Ling Xiyue."
"Saintess Ling Xiyue... a nice name." Mu Changge seemed to savor the name for a moment, then his tone shifted, carrying an indisputable command. "Well then, Xiyue, from now on, when you see me, you will address me as 'Young Master'."
Saintess Ling Xiyue's head jerked up. Her pale face flushed red once more with extreme humiliation. "You! Never! I am, after all..."
"It seems the intensity of the previous 'punishment' wasn't enough?" Mu Changge interrupted her, his eyes suddenly turning cold. He willed a slight movement.
"Mm..." Saintess Ling Xiyue immediately let out a muffled groan, feeling a clear, warning sensation of a 'tightening grip' deep within her Soul. Although not as agonizing as before, it instantly reminded her of the feeling of a fate worse than death. Words stuck in her throat. Her delicate frame trembled slightly from the intermingling of anger and fear.
"Say it. Let me hear it." Mu Changge slowly leaned closer to her. His gaze, calm yet penetrating, locked onto her eyes, which were brimming with tears and resistance. "This is an order, not a negotiation. If you still can't say it, I can help you 'recall' properly until you do." He raised his hand as if to act, suspending it in front of her brow. His fingertip seemed to pinch the invisible thread linked to her split Soul, ready to pull it again at any moment.
Saintess Ling Xiyue bit her lower lip so hard she almost drew blood. She looked at the man so close before her, at the look in his eyes that held not the slightest hint of desire (well... perhaps), only pure, icy possessiveness. Simultaneously, deep within her Soul, that wisp of split Soul transmitted an instinctive fear of this man and... a strange, eerie sense of submission after being utterly suppressed by absolute power.
Dignity, pride, the aloofness of a Saintess—all seemed so fragile and laughable in the face of the absolute terror of having one's Soul completely held in another's grasp. Tears slid down silently, mixing with a trace of blood that seeped from the corner of her mouth. She slowly closed her eyes, mustering all the remaining strength in her body at this moment, before squeezing out two words from her trembling lips, as faint as a mosquito's hum yet filled with shame:
"...Young... Young Master..."
The moment the sound left her lips, she seemed to hear the sound of something shattering completely deep within her heart. It was the sound of the inner barrier of pride and superiority she had built over more than a decade as the Saintess of the Yunmiao Holy Trace, as Saintess Ling Xiyue, utterly collapsing.
"Too soft. I didn't hear it clearly." Mu Changge, however, pressed his advantage. The finger he had suspended made a threatening hooking motion, causing another stab of warning pain in Saintess Ling Xiyue's Soul. "Look at me. Louder. I want you to remember, from this moment on, who is the one who can decide your fate."
Saintess Ling Xiyue clenched her fists tightly. Bloodshot veins seemed to appear in her eyes. But under the pressure of Mu Changge's icy, indisputable gaze and the crystal-clear threat deep within her Soul, she ultimately broke down and raised her voice, almost shouting it out:
"Young Master! Please... please, Young Master... have mercy!"
After shouting, she seemed to have all her strength and support completely drained away, collapsing utterly. Only suppressed, subtle trembling and silently flowing tears remained. She knew that from this moment on, something had fundamentally changed, and there was no turning back.
Mu Changge looked with satisfaction at Saintess Ling Xiyue's completely broken, submissive posture. That cry of "Young Master" and "have mercy," laden with endless humiliation, sounded to his ears like the most pleasing music. He did not continue to apply pressure. Instead, he simply sat there before her, at ease, as if the cruel Soul interrogation that had just taken place had never happened.
His tone was flat, as if instructing the most ordinary servant: "Xiyue, my knowledge of this vast Xuanhuang Continent is ultimately limited. As the esteemed Saintess of the top-tier Sect, the Yunmiao Holy Trace, you must know many secrets that ordinary Cultivators could never hope to touch in their entire lives. For example... the hidden truths of this continent, those reclusive old monsters, and... matters of the elusive Upper Realm."
Saintess Ling Xiyue sat slumped on the ground, her body still trembling slightly. Upon hearing this, however, she stiffened abruptly. She hadn't expected the other party to suddenly ask about this. As the Saintess of one of the continent's top Sects, she did indeed know many secrets that ordinary Sects could never access, including some fragmented information about the ancient history of this realm, the secrets of Ascension, and even connections to the Upper Realm. These were part of her Sect's core Legacy, strictly forbidden from being divulged.
"I..." She instinctively wanted to refuse. But deep within her Soul, the clear fear and oppressive sensation transmitted by that wisp of split Soul made her swallow the refusal that had already reached her lips. She had personally experienced the consequences of refusal.
"Speak." Mu Changge didn't give her much time to weigh her options. He lightly tapped his finger on his knee. Invisible pressure, accompanied by the hidden pain transmitted from the split Soul, spread out.
Saintess Ling Xiyue took a deep breath, barely suppressing her churning emotions, and spoke in a voice that was still hoarse but striving for steadiness: "This realm... Xuanhuang Continent is just a common name. Its true name should be the 'Xuan Realm.' The Xuan Realm is vast and boundless, with Sects standing like forests, Families entrenched, and forces intricately complex. Speaking of the leaders of the Righteous Path..." She paused slightly, as if weighing her words. "My Yunmiao Holy Trace stands aloof and transcendent, with unfathomableheritage. It is universally acknowledged as the current leader of the Righteous Path. Below it, the Wandao Sword Sect, Mount Sumeru, Yaochi, and the Xuantian Sect areParallel as the four major pillars of the top-tier Righteous Path, each guarding a region, their prestige resounding. As for the Demonic Path..." Her voice lowered a bit further. She glanced at Mu Changge before continuing with a trace of barely perceptible complexity. "Since the great war in ancient times that nearly shattered heaven and earth, the legendary 'Devil Head' who once ruled over countless demons is said to have fallen into obscurity. The Demonic Path suffered heavy losses, its momentum and strength no longer matching the fearsome power of antiquity, making it difficult to contend with our Righteous Path on acomprehensive scale. Currently, the Demonic Path is led by the three great demonic Sects: the Heavenly Demon Sect, the Soul Suppressing Abyss, and the Blood Domain Devil Hall. They too are constantly warring amongst themselves, carving out their own territories. Additionally, there are numerous forces, some righteous, some evil, Loose Cultivator Alliances, and powerful Families entrenched in various regions... On the surface, all sides maintain a fragile balance, but in reality, undercurrents surge, and conflicts are constant."
"Tell me something I'm interested in." Mu Changge interrupted her. His Revered Master, Luo Li, hadapproximately mentioned these faction divisions. "Beneath this balance between the Righteous and Demonic Paths, who are the true chess players? Those old monsters who haven't shown themselves for ages, revered by their respective Sects as foundationalheritage, how terrifying has their cultivation truly reached? And what is the current state of the path to Ascension?"
Looking at the icy gaze cast by the man opposite her, Saintess Ling Xiyue finally bit her lower lip and began to speak in detail.
...
After one side finished speaking, Mu Changge silently digested this information, his finger unconsciously tapping lightly on his knee. It seemed the waters of this realm ran far deeper than what was visible on the surface. The path to the Upper Realm was also fraught with twists and turns. And what those old monsters standing at the Peak sought probablylong ago transcended simple domination, involving more profound mysteries of the Dao and eternal life.
Mu Changge fell into thought. It seemed that to truly understand the secrets of the Upper Realm and even higher levels, he would either need to find those slumbering 'living fossils,' or... reach a level of personal strength sufficient to touch the true core of this realm.
Having asked what he wanted to know, Mu Changge's gaze returned to Saintess Ling Xiyue. The scrutiny in his eyes faded, replaced by something more direct, carrying a sense of playfulness and testing.
"I'm thirsty." He spoke plainly, casually pointing towards the side of the moonlight pool—where, at some unknown time, a set of white jade pot and cups had silently appeared. It was clearly something he had taken out from his Storage Ring not long ago.
Saintess Ling Xiyue's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. She instantly understood his intention. To have her, the esteemed Saintess of the Yunmiao Holy Trace, pour tea and serve water for a devil who had kidnapped and repeatedly humiliated her? This felt even more shameful to her than simply killing her.
"Hmm?" Mu Changge seemed to sense the resistance in her expression. He merely let out a soft nasal sound and narrowed his eyes slightly. Immediately, Saintess Ling Xiyue's wisp of split Soul transmitted a clear stab of warning pain.
Saintess Ling Xiyue's delicate frame trembled. Bowing her head in humiliation, she struggled to move her still somewhat stiff and numb legs (at some unknown time, the rope Magical Artifact binding her had been quietly removed by Mu Changge). She slowly stood up and walked to the white jade pot. Her movements were somewhat sluggish and clumsy. When she picked up the jade pot, her fingertips were trembling slightly. Saintess Ling Xiyue forcibly endured the turmoil in her heart, controlling her slightly trembling hand to pour the unknown, clear, shimmering liquid with a faint Spiritual Qi glow from the pot into the jade cup.
Holding that cup which felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, she walked back to stand before Mu Changge. Keeping her head lowered, she raised the cup with both hands above her brow, offering it to him. This posture of submission and servitude made her feel an unprecedented sense ofHumble and shame, her cheeks burning crimson.
However, Mu Changge did not take it. He merely watched with detached ease the liquid surface that trembled slightly from the shaking of her hands, and those slender, jade-like hands that had once been untouched by dust but now had no choice but to serve him tea.
"Feed me." Finally, after a brief silence, Mu Changge's thin lips parted slightly, uttering two short words.
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Saintess Ling Xiyue snapped her head up, her eyes filled with disbelief. Feed him with her own hands? This was even worse than making her serve tea! How dared he humiliate her like this!
"What? Is it so unwilling to just serve water?" Mu Changge leaned back slightly, resting against the translucent white jade wall, his posture leisurely, as if he were simply waiting for the most ordinary service. "Or is it that you have already forgotten the 'lesson' from just now? Do you need... to review it once more?"
The word "lesson" felt like a red-hot branding iron at this moment, scalding Saintess Ling Xiyue's Soul and causing it to tremble. The painful memory of her Soul being wantonly kneaded and pierced instantly resurfaced. Her face turned deathly pale, and she bit her lower lip so hard it nearly drew blood, her heart struggling violently. Ultimately, under the weight of that invisible threat to her Soul—a pain far greater than any physical torment—she tremblingly reached out and slowly brought the jade cup to Mu Changge's lips.
Mu Changge took a slow, leisurely sip from her slightly trembling hand, his gaze fixed on her exquisitely beautiful face, which was filled with humiliation, anger, and forced restraint. The act of swallowing, in Saintess Ling Xiyue's eyes at this moment, was filled with the implications of blasphemy and trampling.
"Not bad." Mu Changge commented casually, not knowing if he was referring to the spirit liquid or her obedience.
Saintess Ling Xiyue quickly withdrew her hand, clutching the empty jade cup tightly, her fingertips turning white from the exertion. In her lowered eyes, intense emotions surged like a storm.
"I'm a little hungry." Mu Changge spoke indifferently, as if he hadn't seen her expression. At the same time, several bright red, spirit-filled Zhu Fruits appeared out of thin air on the warm jade beside him, their exotic fragrance assaulting the senses.
Saintess Ling Xiyue looked at those Zhu Fruits, then at Mu Changge's indifferent face, her chest heaving violently from extreme anger. Feeding him water was already the limit, but feeding him food... this was simply grinding her final shred of dignity into the dust! But what choice did she have now? Could she choose? Could she resist?
"It seems you want to try a different way to 'feed' me?" Mu Changge's lips curled into an inexplicable arc, a wisp of Devilish Qi quietly coiling around his fingertips as his gaze swept pointedly over her tightly pursed, bloodless lips.
Saintess Ling Xiyue instantly understood his implication, and a chill shot from the soles of her feet to the top of her head—it was something that made her feel more fear and disgust than if he had simply killed her! Despair flashed in her eyes, but in the end, she tremblingly reached out, picked up a Zhu Fruit, and then... slowly knelt before him.
This time, her movements were slower and even more rigid. Her hand holding the Zhu Fruit felt as heavy as a thousand jun, making it difficult to lift.
"Sit over here." Mu Changge patted his crossed legs, his tone flat but carrying an unyielding, absolute command.
Saintess Ling Xiyue's delicate body shuddered violently, and she looked at him as if struck by lightning, as if she had heard the most absurd command in the world. Sit... sit on his lap?
"I don't like to repeat myself." Mu Changge's icy gaze swept over her again, like ten-thousand-year-old glacier ice. The sense of threat transmitted from that Soul fragment suddenly became sharp and intense, as if it were about to drag her into an endless abyss of pain the very next moment.
Saintess Ling Xiyue's body alternated between icy cold and burning heat due to extreme anger and the sudden, bone-deep fear. Tears swirled frantically in her eyes. This had completely exceeded the bottom line of what she could endure! This devil wanted to completely tear apart and trample underfoot all her dignity and pride as a woman, as a Saintess!
"I... I..." She wanted to scream, to curse, to risk everything to fight him, to immediately end her own life, but all words and impulses were firmly blocked by the crystal-clear warning of impending, excruciating pain deep within her Soul. In the end, under Mu Changge's cold and impatient gaze, she moved toward him bit by bit, extremely slowly, like a puppet whose will to resist had been completely drained away.
However, the distance of that final step, that final touch, felt like an unbridgeable chasm. She stood there, rigid, unable to convince herself to sit down no matter what.
Mu Changge had clearly lost his last bit of patience. He reached out directly, wrapping his arm around her slender waist, and amidst her short, suppressed gasp, he pulled her into his arms, forcing her to sit on his lap.
The warm, fragrant, soft beauty was in his arms, carrying a cool, moon-like aura, yet she was trembling and tense due to her owner's extreme shame and fear. Mu Changge could clearly feel the stiffness and the instantly rising body temperature of the beauty in his arms. He leaned close to Saintess Ling Xiyue's small earlobe, which had instantly turned crimson, almost dripping with blood, and the hot breath he exhaled sprayed onto her pretty face as he commanded, "Continue." At the same time, his other hand unquestioningly circled her slender yet supple waist, imprisoning her tighter in his arms; his palm even moved with a hint of scrutiny and molestation, circling against her side.
Saintess Ling Xiyue felt as if struck by lightning, her whole body trembling violently. She was so ashamed and furious she wished she could turn into dust immediately! She could clearly feel the scorching body temperature and strong physique of the man behind her, could feel his arm wrapped around her waist with such possessive control, and could even feel the hot breath spraying onto her ear and neck as he spoke! This unprecedented, intimate contact was, to her, a torture far more terrifying than death!
"Ah—!" She finally lost control, letting out a sobbing cry of collapse, tears streaming down like a broken dam. Yet, the Zhu Fruit in her hand, under the slightly tightening force of the arm around her waist, trembled and was raised, bit by bit, to Mu Changge's lips.
Mu Changge opened his mouth slightly and bit down on the Zhu Fruit she had tremblingly offered, his tongue even "accidentally" brushing against her fingertips.
Saintess Ling Xiyue jerked her hand back as if scalded by a branding iron, her body shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind, her whole person nearly collapsing completely. (She had cultivated in purity since childhood; how could she have ever had such intimate contact with a man? Being held and fed like this was the most unbearable blasphemy and humiliation in her perception.) If not for Mu Changge's arm firmly circling her waist, she would have likely slumped to the ground long ago.
Mu Changge chewed the sweet Zhu Fruit in his mouth, his gaze falling calmly on the side of the beautiful woman's face, which was exquisite yet covered in tear stains. At this moment, where was any trace of the high and mighty, cool and moon-like demeanor of the Yunmiao Holy Trace Saintess? There was only collapse, helplessness, humiliation, and bone-deep fear. This feeling of dragging the moon of the Nine Heavens into the mud of the mortal world, and completely controlling her life, death, glory, shame, and even her most subtle reactions, truly brought a twisted and intense sense of satisfaction. However, he was not a man driven by mere lust; simple desire was not what he sought. What he enjoyed more was this complete crushing of the Soul and will; watching the proud Saintess bow her head, the cool Fairy fall into the mortal world, and finally seeing her body and mind submit completely was what fascinated him the most.
While enjoying the warmth and softness of the beauty in his arms, Mu Changge's fingertips idly brushed against the delicate fabric at her waist... That casual molestation caused Saintess Ling Xiyue another bout of terror, yet she dared not resist in the slightest, with only a few tears spilling uncontrollably from the corners of her eyes. Meanwhile, Mu Changge was calmly calculating the current situation in the Secret Realm in his mind:
Jian Wushuang, this former Prodigy of the Righteous Path and Child of Fortune, had now been manipulated by him until his Dao Heart was shattered, and he had fallen into the Demonic Path. Previously, he had seized his Golden Finger and intercepted his childhood sweetheart; his Luck must have been more than half depleted, and now he was nearly at the point where he could be killed. But after all, he was a person favored by Luck, so one could not let their guard down. Moreover, after this boy entered the Demonic Path, his Heart-Nature became increasingly crazy and paranoid. Such a person might be more dangerous and troublesome than the Saint who was at least bright and upright on the surface, and more capable of stirring up the winds and clouds.
'Perhaps I should find an opportunity to finish him off in this Secret Realm?' Mu Changge pondered.
And that little monk... seemed to be called "Wu Xin"? Another newly appeared Child of Fortune. After entering the Secret Realm, he had first laid plans against Jian Wushuang, and then ran into the group from Yunmiao Holy Trace, so he hadn't specifically sought him out. However, since that "Buddha Son" Liao Chen from his Sect had already been tricked by him, it seemed not bad to harvest this "Wu Xin" as well, while he was at it? For a Child of Fortune, the earlier they were eliminated, the more at ease one would be.
As for that bunch of "flies" from the Xuantian Sect outside, especially the Xuantian Sect Saint who held the heavenly machine plate, could spy on the heavenly secrets, and kept calling himself a "variable"... this person was indeed troublesome. His Luck was not low, his background was solid, and what was even more tricky was that ability to divine the heavenly secrets. It would likely not be easy to intercept or manipulate him like previous Children of Fortune, and the other party must have trump cards to save his life. Unless... he used those costly one-time fatal items from the System store to forcibly erase him. But was it worth consuming a large amount of hard-earned Luck points for just this one Child of Fortune? Perhaps he could change his approach... shift the blame? Or perhaps endure for now and wait for an opportunity to act? After all, he could come and go as he pleased, and they couldn't do anything to him for the time being.
Just as Mu Changge was weighing the pros and cons and his thoughts were racing, Saintess Ling Xiyue in his arms seemed to have gained a faint glimmer of respite due to his momentary "distraction" and that seemingly "gentle" yet actually more controlling caress. The collapse-like trembling subsided slightly, but her body remained rigid as stone. In her lowered eyes, the humiliated tears were not yet dry, but deeper within, hatred and a nearly dead-silent coldness were growing and settling frantically. She no longer cried out loud, but bit down hard on her already slightly pale lower lip, her appearance carrying a heart-wrenching resolve amidst the tragic beauty. She was forcibly gathering her scattered mind, silently waiting, waiting for any possible opportunity to escape these dual shackles of Soul and body, even if that hope was as faint as a spark, even if it required the price of her life!
Mu Changge keenly sensed the subtle change in her aura—it was a kind of forbearance, carrying a deathly coldness, that emerged after being forcibly pulled back from the edge of collapse. He sneered in his heart; indeed, how could a proud Saintess of a top Sect truly be willing to sink into the mud like this? However, the more this was the case, the more interesting this game of "sculpting" and "taming" became, wasn't it?
"Alright, stop crying." Mu Changge's voice sounded in Saintess Ling Xiyue's ear, carrying a hint of imperceptible perfunctoriness. His hand, which had originally been circling her waist with a hint of molestation, now just gently patted her back, the action even counting as "gentle," a stark contrast to the coldness when he forced her to feed him earlier. However, this sudden, near-"soothing" touch made Saintess Ling Xiyue's tears pause for a moment, followed by even deeper humiliation and bewilderment—what exactly did this devil want? To slap her and then give her a sweet date?
Mu Changge, however, ignored the complex emotions of the beauty in his arms. His nose was enveloped by the unique, cool, and spiritual aura on Saintess Ling Xiyue's body; this aura was pure and lofty, somewhat similar to his Revered Master, Luo Li, from the Heavenly Demon Sect, but also different. His Revered Master was like the coldness of a deep valley pool, carrying majesty and mystery; while this Saintess in his arms was more like the lonely moon in the high sky, with clear brilliance scattering down, untainted by dust, yet now she was dragged into the mud by him.
Thinking of his Revered Master, Mu Changge's cold and hard heart lake rarely rippled with a trace of genuine warmth (after all, she was a woman whose body and mind belonged to him). That Revered Master, who appeared cold and aloof on the outside but actually harbored favoritism and indulgence toward him in secret, had indeed not been seen for a long time. He wondered if she... missed this "unfilial" disciple of hers even a little? Additionally, there was the Great Qin Dynasty; that Child of Fortune who had been "developing" for some time was still waiting to be harvested, but by comparison, the thought of returning to the Heavenly Demon Sect to see his Revered Master seemed more urgent.
However, before that, there were still some "weeds" in the Secret Realm that needed to be cleared, or rather... some "leeks" that needed to be harvested well again.
Having figured this out, Mu Changge resumed that cold, condescending stance of controlling everything. He raised his fingertips slightly, frivolously hooking her sharp yet cold chin, forcing her to look at him. Saintess Ling Xiyue did not resist, or rather, under the pressure of that Soul shackle, she could not make an effective resistance. It was just that those eyes, once as clear as cold springs and reflecting the stars and moon, were now empty and cold, as if all emotions and brilliance had been frozen and drained away, leaving only the monstrous, deeply suppressed hatred burning silently beneath the ice.
"Hate me?" Mu Changge raised an eyebrow, his tone as flat as if he were stating an obvious fact.
Saintess Ling Xiyue pressed her lips tightly together, saying nothing, but the fleeting ferocity deep within her frozen eyes was the best answer.
"Hatred is good." Mu Changge laughed lowly instead, his smile carrying undisguised cruelty and playfulness. "Remember this hatred well, Xiyue. It will be the motivation for you to go on living."
Having said that, Mu Changge let go, and at the same time, with a slight force in his arm, he "lifted" Saintess Ling Xiyue, who was still stiff all over like an exquisite puppet, off his lap, allowing her to barely stand steady.
Saintess Ling Xiyue's steps were unsteady, and she stumbled before steadying herself by holding onto the cold jade pillar beside her. From beginning to end, she kept her head lowered, unwilling to look at the man in front of her again, as if looking for one more moment would be a great torture.
Mu Changge also shifted his gaze, as if that intimate humiliation just now was merely done in passing. He rose slowly and turned toward the entrance of the ancient hall, which was shrouded in moonlit radiance. His gaze was deep, as if he could penetrate the barriers of the hall, see the changing winds and clouds of the outside world, and feel the faint confrontation of those few tyrannical auras and the impending conflict.
"Jian Wushuang..." he whispered to himself, a cold, calculating light flashing in his eyes. "Let you, this chess piece, jump around a bit longer for now. Your current madness and hatred might... still come in handy." He already had a plan in mind: to let this former Child of Fortune, who had fallen into the Demonic Path and was filled with monstrous hatred, stir up the winds and clouds, and even collide with Liao Chen and others; perhaps it could achieve unexpected results.
"As for that little monk Wu Xin..." a cold smile curled his lips. "If I happen to run into him, I'll just harvest him while I'm at it. And that damn Buddha Son Liao Chen... if Jian Wushuang fails to deal with him, I wouldn't mind sending him on his way myself, and then... credit this 'Karma' to Jian Wushuang. Watching two Children of Fortune fight until one dies, that must be a good show."
Mu Changge paused, recalling that group of tiger-eyed Xuantian Sect Cultivators outside the hall, especially Zhou Tianyan, who held the heavenly machine plate and brought him a hint of threat. "Xuantian Sect... heavenly machine plate... variable..." he muttered these words, his eyes gradually becoming as sharp as knives. "Want to kill me? With you, you are not qualified enough. However, being stared at by a bunch of flies all the time is indeed annoying."