"Mm... Ugh... Don't..."

A soft murmur sounded near his ear. Chen Yi turned his head and saw Jueyin, her face flushed as if drenched in water, her enchanting eyes hazy, seemingly just awakened. Her black hair spilled out like an expansive bedspread, and the Guanyin Scripture used to tie her hair had fallen among the pile of paper effigies.

It was the first time Chen Yi saw such lush and flowing tresses.

Not only could it serve as a silken pillow, but it could also transform into a blanket, enough to entirely envelop someone within its folds.

Reflecting on when she had leaned her face close...

Mm,

Korean women indeed had beautiful hair.

Even though her attire was layered thickly, their proximity allowed for an intimate sensation, where the fabric emanated a soft, furry friction.

Let alone that her countenance was stunning beyond measure.

Dong Guifei slowly woke and met Chen Yi's gaze, her face seemingly growing even redder.

"Are you all right?" Chen Yi asked.

"…It's nothing."

After Dong Guifei responded,

Chen Yi turned away and stepped out of the temple directly.

"..."

Seeing his figure disappear, Dong Guifei, her cheeks tinted with an unusual blush, hurriedly called out: "Wait, benefactor!"

Chen Yi paused his steps but didn't turn around, saying:

"The drug's potency will penetrate the marrow in about an hour. With your Fourth Rank cultivation, you can suppress it for a while. I'll first ensure the safety of this place."

His words seemed logical and justified, yet Dong Guifei's gaze grew deeply contemplative.

In this entire speech, was there even half a word about the antidote?!

As fragmented thoughts floated through her mind, Dong Guifei instinctively reached for the dagger at her waist, and the inky black strands of her hair began to ripple in the shadows.

Chen Yi's fingers lifted slightly, with three in the middle extended while the remaining two curled inward, his arm bent.

In silent motion, the surge of violence within Dong Guifei was blocked.

Her fingers slid away from the dagger as her crimson lips parted faintly, concealing her uneven breaths. "I implore you, benefactor… to keep your promise and remove the poison from this humble nun."

Chen Yi responded indifferently, "I know what I'm doing."

And with that, he strode out of the temple.

Though Chen Yi was fond of beauty, he wasn't one to act impulsively, especially since this woman's background remained entirely opaque. All he knew was her claim to be Jueyin, with no other information forthcoming.

The decision to use Yuchun Balm at that time arose because, apart from that balm, there was simply no way to control a Fourth Rank Martial Artist.

Ultimately, the fault lay in his lacking proficiency in Taoist skills.

In this regard, Yin Weiyin had indeed not been wrong.

Once Chen Yi's figure vanished beyond the temple's boundaries…

Dong Guifei slowly reached into her robes and retrieved a paper effigy.

Blowing lightly upon it, a second Dong Guifei with cascading black hair appeared within the temple.

Dong Guifei tapped lightly with her jade-like finger.

Immediately, its face flushed similarly rosy, its legs pressed tightly together, almost seamlessly aligned.

Meanwhile, the blush on Dong Guifei's own face receded slightly. She muttered the Guanyin Sutra, suppressing the carnal desire that rippled within her like leaping fish.

That desire had been transferred to this effigy, crafted in perfect likeness with her own birthdate and horoscope—a precious creation, each usage diminishing its quantity.

Even then, this could only alleviate the symptoms, not fundamentally cure the spring poison.

Dong Guifei secretly thought about how to procure the antidote.

But what if… there was no antidote?

"He managed to obtain Yuchun Balm; surely, he must also possess the antidote. Moreover, as someone from the palace, highly favored by the Empress Dowager…"

Dong Guifei murmured to herself, then added under her breath:

"Besides, daring to take advantage of a nun—does he fear no karmic retribution?"

In the grand scheme of destiny, karma was an inevitable cycle, one chain linked to the next.

Today he dares lay a hand on a nun; what will he covet tomorrow—the Great Yu Empress Dowager herself?

As the thought crossed her mind, Dong Guifei's heart settled. She glanced back slightly, watching the effigy shrink smaller and smaller until it transformed into a thin sheet of paper, resting quietly upon the square ground.

Chen Yi wandered around the temple perimeter for a while. There was indeed a small path leading to the outside, with stone bricks intact—little in the way of gaps or erosion—and beyond the temple lay an expanse of bamboo forest. Lifting his gaze upward… sunlight could be seen.

Sunlight in the Underworld?

Having spent nearly twenty days in the Underworld, Chen Yi was unaccustomed to the sudden touch of sunlight on his skin, feeling as if the sinister energy within him was dissipated momentarily.

When he turned back toward the dilapidated temple, Dong Guifei's complexion remained as radiant as a blossoming peach, though the earlier redness seemed to have faded somewhat.

"…What's the situation?" Dong Guifei asked softly.

Chen Yi met her gaze and calmly explained, "This might be some kind of secret realm."

The Underworld, being subterranean, should not have sunlight visible even if engulfed by chaos. What they saw was likely a deeper layer of the secret realm.

Dong Guifei rested her delicate fingers against her chin, pondering briefly before replying:

"Your logic is sound, but… is it not possible that you've already died?"

"…" Chen Yi retorted coldly, "If you and I are dead, then we've died for love."

Dong Guifei's face flushed instantly. After a moment, she responded with measured calmness:

"Entering extinction or nirvana—birth and death are the common topics of life. What issue is there?"

"There is an issue," Chen Yi said earnestly, "a very big issue."

"Oh?" Dong Guifei leaned forward slightly, her voice drawling. "I assume the benefactor has some profound insight."

"Because I don't want to die for love with a nun."

At that remark, Dong Guifei's expression cooled.

She had expected him to expound some philosophical reasoning, not toss out such a crude comment.

Her heart bristled privately. Talk of not wanting to die for love—what difference would it make later? In the end, wouldn't he only become her plaything, crushed beneath her dominance? How humiliating!

Having spent years in the palace, Dong Guifei was no stranger to the scheming ways of women. She chose not to argue further with Chen Yi for now.

Her fate of being offered as tribute from her homeland to the Great Yu Palace had long been ordained; resistance was out of the question. Even though she had never met Chen Yi before, the rumor of Chen Qianhu serving as her consort was hardly an indignity to her reputation. After all, the reputation of Korean women was already tarnished, giving Dong Guifei no reason to concern herself—obedience was sufficient.

Indulging in carnal thoughts was to invite defeat.

Dong Guifei stood up slowly, her movements slightly unsteady, though she managed to remain upright—albeit with a faintly sticky sensation between her thighs.

Chen Yi extracted a veiled hat from the square ground and tossed it over.

Dong Guifei caught it in hand, puzzled.

"Wear it, so you won't attract attention."

Without waiting for her response, Chen Yi reached into his robes and retrieved a similar veiled hat.

Dong Guifei ran her fingers along the edges of the hat and then curled her lips into a smile, placing it upon her head. It conveniently concealed the accidental rosiness of her cheeks.

She lifted the veil slightly and cast a bewitching glance at Chen Yi, her manner soft and fluid like the whisper of wind ringing the morning bell in a serene temple.

Behind her stood the Guanyin statue, its face missing.

Chen Yi cast a casual glance before averting his gaze and adjusting his hat.

This mysterious nun with her flowing black hair always gave him the impression of hiding depths beyond comprehension. Now that she had temporarily suppressed the effects of Yuchun Balm, it implied his leverage over her might no longer hold.

In the Jianghu, there were three people you should never antagonize: monks, Taoists, and women.

Jueyin conveniently qualified for two of those categories. Calculating proportionally, he could only take on a third, while the other two-thirds remained off-limits.

Before leaving, Chen Yi contemplated for a moment and then waved his hand, gathering all the paper effigies from the ground.

Even though they had all turned to useless scraps, Chen Yi couldn't say why—he still felt compelled to collect them.

The two left the temple, one following closely behind the other on the stone path.

Amid the verdant flora, there were no fallen branches or withered leaves in sight—a springtime scene flourishing with vitality.

Although the actual season should have been the frigid depths of winter.

They hadn't walked far when faint laughter carried through the air.

Some creatures seemed to be up ahead.

As they ascended the slope, two women's figures emerged, descending gracefully toward them, their silhouettes slender and elegant. Their skirts, styled in a horse-face design, reflected fragmented sunlight as they moved.

Chen Yi glanced up instinctively.

There, he saw a familiar face: delicate features, thin as mist, with an unspoken sorrow etched between her brows—evidence of long confinement in a desolate courtyard. Yet despite this, her beauty remained incontrovertible.

How could she be here?

Chen Yi's gaze froze momentarily.

At that moment, Lin Family Young Lady noticed him as well. Her steps quickened, she moved toward him lightly.

Chen Yi's hand slowly shifted to the hilt of his blade.

Yet she approached with poise, her hands folded gently over her abdomen, her voice soft and tender as she addressed him:

"Husband."

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