Chapter 109

Song Qingshi wrote for three solid hours, his hand never leaving the brush, until he had finally completed the initial draft of his materials. By then, the sky had begun to lighten, revealing the first hint of dawn.

Yue Wuhuan thoughtfully offered him a cup of spirit tea.

He took the tea, still wanting to discuss Yu Wenyu's protagonist's luck. Though he felt it had little to do with him, he couldn't shake a certain concern. Yu Wenyu didn't seem like a character in need of saving—he was well-built, handsome, exceptionally talented, from a happy family, and so guileless that Song Jincheng could easily sway him with a few words. There was no indication of any impending tragedy...

Song Qingshi was mentally exhausted from his ordeal in the Mo Yuan Magic Formation, and even after a night's sleep, he hadn't fully recovered. Staying up all night had left him utterly drained.

Yue Wuhuan's heart ached at the sight. He urged Song Qingshi to rest, then pulled out an assortment of pastries from his Mustard Seed Bag and began feeding them to him.

Song Qingshi happily munched on the sweet treats when, belatedly, he realized that after his man had revealed his true form, he wasn't just taller, but even more beautiful? His waist was slender, his legs long—truly a sight to behold...

When Yue Wuhuan had been restoring his memories, he'd mentioned that they had once shared many pleasurable experiences, fearing Song Qingshi might still carry emotional baggage. In the Mo Yuan Magic Formation, after they became Dao companions, Song Qingshi had been overwhelmed by these memories. According to Yue Wuhuan's account, he had also enjoyed himself while inhabiting his past incarnation, Mo Yuan—likely a deliberate arrangement by Mo Yuan to prevent future jealousy from causing trouble.

So, in a way, they were already like an old married couple, well-practiced and beyond shyness.

Song Qingshi quickly pushed himself up from the table and rolled closer.

Yue Wuhuan understood his intentions and smiled, setting aside the pastries. He reclined languidly on the chaise lounge, adopting a pose of complete surrender. Then, with a subtle glance, his phoenix eyes brimming with affection, their depths shimmering, his long lashes fluttered like tiny hooks tugging at the heart, making it itch with desire. "Come here," he murmured.

Bewitched by his lover's beauty, Song Qingshi disregarded the disparity in their cultivation levels. He climbed onto the chaise lounge, straddled Yue Wuhuan's hips, and boldly reached out a "sinful" hand to caress that beautiful face. Then, he leaned down, licking the soft, sweet taste from Yue Wuhuan's lips, utterly content. He deepened the kiss, thoroughly "devouring" him. The beauty in his arms was gentle and compliant, occasionally letting out soft, pleasurable moans that encouraged him to continue kissing...

Until crimson vines silently spread across the room, slipping beneath his robes to coil around his limbs and waist.

Song Qingshi was momentarily stunned when he realized he couldn't move.

The sequence of events felt different from what he remembered in the Mo Yuan Magic Formation, and Yue Wuhuan hadn't explained how things worked in this world. He pondered... Back then, he had been a Nascent Soul expert, while Yue Wuhuan was only a Foundation Establishment Cultivator. Surely things couldn't be more intense than during his Sword Cultivator days? But as he took in Yue Wuhuan's increasingly voracious gaze and the terrifying aura radiating from him, he felt like a plump rabbit blinded by beauty, stumbling into a trap where he'd be roasted, boiled, and fried. Perhaps he should have clarified his memories before making a move?

A man doesn't say no in bed.

He would never beg for mercy.

Song Qingshi struggled slightly, then declared firmly, "Wuhuan, I love you."

Yue Wuhuan had a habit of thoroughly securing his prey before devouring it, ensuring there was no escape. He leisurely adjusted his disheveled robes, watching Song Qingshi's mix of desire and apprehension. Unable to resist teasing him, he pulled Song Qingshi into his embrace and whispered a series of stimulating suggestions into his ear, adding, "These were all things you used to enjoy."

Song Qingshi looked bewildered. "I enjoyed them?"

He was quite open-minded about such matters, never shy about his partner's preferences and always willing to try new things. But the scenarios Yue Wuhuan described were far beyond his imagination. If they went through with them all, he probably wouldn't be able to get out of bed afterward.

"I have proof," Yue Wuhuan said. Back when he had sorted through Song Qingshi's belongings, he had discovered a collection of risqué novels sent by Immortal Lord Ye Lin and Song Qingshi's own bedchamber journals. He found it both amusing and exasperating, finally understanding why Song Qingshi, despite being a novice, had been so eager to experiment. Not wanting others to see them, he had kept the notes for himself—too entertaining to destroy. Now, he produced the notebook as evidence, pointing to the handwriting and contents. "See? This is what you wanted. You asked me to do these things with you."

The Blood King Vine loosened its grip on Song Qingshi's hand.

Taking the notebook, Song Qingshi confirmed it was indeed his writing. After a moment's thought, he declared without hesitation, "Then let's do it."

Yue Wuhuan couldn't help but chuckle, teasing him further. "Aren't you afraid you might be wrong? That you won't be able to handle it?"

"I'm not wrong. If I wrote it down, it means I found it acceptable and was willing to try," Song Qingshi reasoned seriously. "These things are like experiments—you won't know the outcome unless you try. How can I know if I'll like it or endure it without trying? No matter how difficult, I have to attempt it at least once. If it's unbearable, I just won't do it again."

Yue Wuhuan tightened the vines again. "You're not afraid of such... preferences?"

Song Qingshi answered candidly, "Everyone has their predilections. You love me—you wouldn't hurt me."

Yue Wuhuan froze. "You don't think... I'm strange?"

"Not at all." Worried Yue Wuhuan might misunderstand and spiral again, Song Qingshi decided to give him a proper lesson on human psychology, explaining that people had all sorts of harmless, socially acceptable inclinations—for objects, voices, etc. Legitimate preferences that didn't harm society or others were perfectly fine.

A few vines were nothing. They coiled gently, without pain. He saw no issue.

Song Qingshi earnestly lectured Yue Wuhuan on biology and social psychology.

Yue Wuhuan listened in a daze, once again marveling at the diversity of human desires. His own little proclivities were truly insignificant. Moreover, he realized Song Qingshi had an astonishing tolerance for novelty and adored anything interesting. As long as things were discussed beforehand and preparations were made, he would cooperate without fear.

This... this was pure bliss.

Tonight had been full of blessings—not only had they become Dao companions and resolved their emotional knots, but his partner had also climbed into bed and invited him to feast. He longed to indulge to his heart's content, but his feathered avatar had detected trouble, forcing him to halt.

Suppressing his desires, Yue Wuhuan freed Song Qingshi from the vines, straightened his inner robes, and helped him back into his outer garments before gesturing toward the window. "Be careful."

Song Qingshi blinked and looked up. Through a crack in the window, a single blood-red eye stared fixedly at him. Though the scene was horrifying, Song Qingshi was slow to react. Even as he registered the terror, he quickly deduced what it was and promptly stopped being afraid.

Excited, he rushed to the window and pushed it open. Outside stood a massive Filth Demon, over two meters tall, with black carapace-like hide, four eyes, corrosive venom dripping from its fanged maw, a pair of hard horns, and chitinous wing-cases on its back. It looked fantastical and utterly fascinating—a completely new species he'd never seen before!

Six eyes met—the Filth Demon's and Song Qingshi's—as they assessed each other's flesh and blood.

Song Qingshi was ecstatic. "Wuhuan! I love this Filth Demon!"

"Hmm. A Filth Demon horde has appeared outside. I knew you'd want live specimens for research, so I let this one through," Yue Wuhuan said. Countless vines had already restrained the demon outside, rendering it immobile despite its snarling, blade-like forelimbs and furious roars. "This one's quite spirited. Do you think it'll do?"

Song Qingshi nodded vigorously. "Perfect!"

Yue Wuhuan wove a simple cage from vines and handed the demon over for study.

Song Qingshi suddenly recalled his earlier words. "What's a Filth Demon horde?"

"Occasionally, hundreds or thousands of Filth Demons gather to attack human towns or sects. We call it a horde," Yue Wuhuan explained. "No one knows where they come from or when they'll strike. They leave nothing alive in their wake, wiping out entire settlements before help can arrive. Though rare, the devastation is immense. All we can do is exterminate the remnants afterward."

Following his gaze, Song Qingshi looked up at the sky and gasped. Thousands of Filth Demons swarmed like locusts, drawn by the scent of flesh. He had encountered a few before at an inn and thought them easy to deal with, but in such numbers, they were a catastrophe.

After a brief moment of worry, he glanced at Yue Wuhuan beside him and calmed.

With the number one cultivator of the immortal realm—the great villain of Indestructible Peak—by his side, dying would be difficult.

"Capture a few more alive," Song Qingshi instructed.

"There are too many. If they scatter to nearby towns, the damage will be severe," Yue Wuhuan said with a smile. "I've already summoned nearby subordinates and allied sects for assistance. There shouldn't be a major crisis."

Countless Nirvana Red Butterflies took flight, soaring toward the filthy horde.

Incandescent flames rose around Yue Wuhuan as enormous vermillion tendrils unfurled in all directions, crushing every demon in their path. Meanwhile, panicked junior disciples from the Tianwu Sect rushed over, many injured, seeking refuge. Song Qingshi organized a makeshift field hospital for the less severely wounded, tending to them with the help of lower-level cultivators.

...

Yu Wenyan, the Sect Leader of Tianwu Sect, rose early every day for a cup of *Bi'an* tea before practicing his sword.

When he saw the sky darken with Filth Demons, his countenance drained of color. A horde of this scale could only be withstood by a handful of major sects—for Tianwu Sect, it meant utter destruction. They had only just gained a promising disciple, a hope for their future, and now faced utter destruction.

Yu Wenyu—he had to ensure Yu Wenyu and a few other talented disciples escaped, no matter the cost!

Yu Wenyan's mind raced before going blank. Then, he spotted the beautiful child who called himself Little Bai crouching in the grass, searching for something. A strange feeling rose in his chest, and without hesitation, he grabbed the unaware child. "Stop playing. Stay with me. Later, you'll flee with Yu Wenyu."

Five Filth Demons landed before him, onyx talons glinting, fanged maw stained with blood.

Yu Wenyan drew his sword, shielding the child behind him.

As a Sword Cultivator, even in death, he would uphold his dignity. He wouldn't let such a young boy perish in the demon swarm!

Hao Long glanced up at the human elder. Since arriving at Tianwu Sect, he had been ignored by everyone. Later, his mother had abandoned him at the gate, assigning him to gatekeeping duties without food. Weak with hunger, he had sneaked in to hunt Spirit Mice in the grass. Just as he'd found one, the demon horde had disrupted his hunt.

The spirit rat got away, and he was pissed...

He wanted to complain to his father, saying that his mother mistreated him by always making him eat greens and radishes instead of raw meat and mice.

The flapping wings of the demonic tide in the sky were unbearably shrill. Hao Long chickened out a little, worried that his mother would blame him for failing to guard the gate and letting these gross-ass demons in. Quickly, he revealed his true form, bypassed Yu Wenyan, and despite the disgusting taste, swallowed all the filthy demons in front of him to eliminate the evidence and avoid scolding.

A massive white serpent, its body filling the entire courtyard, slithered toward the horde of filthy demons.

Yu Wenyan froze for a hot minute before finally remembering who the guest at the Tianwu Sect was.

He sheathed his sword, turned around, cool as a cucumber, drained his Bi'an tea, and coolly reassessed his strategy.

Hmm, no way the Tianwu Sect was going down...