Chapter 108 Day 30 of Transmigrating into a Wuxia Novel (End)

Chapter 108: The Thirtieth Day Transmigrating into a Wuxia World (End)

A few months later.

Fuyi Sect's main altar, Chenxin Hall.

The once gloomy and oppressive hall had become bright under An Yi's orders.

Seriously, does a demon cult have to be so gloomy?

However, the bright hall didn't make Fuyi Sect any more cheerful; a major purge had just taken place within the sect, and even the air seemed thick with the smell of blood.

The new sect rules An Yi had issued made the followers ponder endlessly: if they truly followed these rules, would they still be a demon cult?

But no one dared to object; they had no choice but to grit their teeth and bear it.

Well, better to be a less evil figure in the martial world than to be beaten to a pulp!

An Yi reclined on a spacious divan, casually twirling a glass goblet in his fingers, the amber liquid inside gently swaying.

He had changed back into an immaculate white robe, his ink-black hair loose and unbound, falling carelessly around him, making his almost devilishly handsome face appear even paler and colder, as if the storm where he had shocked everyone and seized the position of sect leader had nothing to do with him.

Ling Fengyao, like a stubborn piece of sticky candy, sidled up onto the edge of the couch with a grin, almost leaning his entire body against An Yi.

He snatched the goblet from An Yi's hand, drank from where An Yi's lips had touched, and downed the wine in one gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing as he let out a satisfied sigh.

"Good wine!" He smacked his lips, his peach blossom eyes sparkling as he stared at An Yi with undisguised infatuation and pride. "But even the best wine is not even one ten-thousandth as intoxicating as you, Ayi."

An Yi reached out and pinched his mouth into a duck face. "Don't say such cheesy things."

Ling Fengyao was puzzled. "What's 'cheesy'?"

An Yi glanced at him lightly, couldn't be bothered with his glibness, and only said, "There's a lot of sect business. If you're idle, you can take care of it."

"Those trivial matters? Pfft, nothing compares to you, Ayi."

Ling Fengyao waved his hand dismissively, inching closer until he was practically glued to An Yi, his warm breath brushing against An Yi's neck. "I'm the Sect Leader's 'wife' now, so it's only right that I focus on serving the Sect Leader."

He bit the word "wife" hard, with clear mockery and smugness.

Upon hearing this, the corner of An Yi's mouth lifted slightly. He raised two fingers and pressed them against Ling Fengyao's forehead as the latter kept leaning in, pushing him back an inch or two. "When did I ever appoint you as that?"

Ling Fengyao retreated slightly with his push, but immediately leaned back in like a limp noodle, grabbing the hand that was pushing him away and seductively scratching his palm, his voice both aggrieved and roguish:

"What? You want to deny everything after getting what you wanted? In front of the entire martial world, I'm the one you personally claimed! Besides..."

He suddenly lowered his voice, leaning close to An Yi's ear, whispering in a breathy, scorching whisper: "That day on the hillside, when I kissed you, you didn't push me away... Could it be that Ayi likes me being so bold?" As he spoke, his lips almost touched the jade-white earlobe.

An Yi's eyes flickered, but he didn't pull back his hand. Instead, he turned his head and met the gaze of Ling Fengyao's peach blossom eyes, which were full of expectation and provocation.

Their eyes met, their breaths audible.

The candlelight in the hall flickered, casting intimate shadows around them.

After a moment, An Yi suddenly let out a very soft laugh, a low and resonant sound with an indescribable magnetism. Instead of pushing Ling Fengyao away, he used their joined hands to pull the man closer.

"Looks like you really are too free."

Before the words were finished, his other hand reached around to grasp Ling Fengyao's nape, and he tilted his head up to press his lips against those ever-smirking lips.

Ling Fengyao's pupils dilated sharply. After only a brief moment of shock, he immediately turned the tables, tightening his arms fiercely and pulling An Yi into a deep embrace, responding with such intensity as if they wanted to meld into each other's bones and blood.

The goblet fell onto the carpet with a dull thud, the wine staining a dark patch, but no one cared.

The sound of panting grew quicker, and the air thickened with the scent of wine and an indescribable heat.

......

After who knows how long, they finally parted slightly.

Ling Fengyao's breath was unsteady, a dark fire seemed to burn deep in his eyes as he stared at An Yi's slightly flushed, even more alluring lips. His voice was hoarse: "Ayi... you really... are killing me..."

An Yi's breathing was also a bit erratic, his long eyelashes trembling, a slight ripple in his eyes.

He raised his hand, gently brushing the corner of Ling Fengyao's mouth with his fingertips, the movement lazy and intimate. "No more of that 'you're killing me' nonsense."

Ling Fengyao: ??????

What does that mean?

Ling Fengyao didn't understand, but he knew how to change the subject, so he kissed him fiercely again, proving through action that he was far from idle.

......

Except for the time they spent traveling together, in Fuyi Sect, Ling Fengyao stuck to An Yi almost every moment, joking around while An Yi dealt with sect business, and teasing and bothering him with various tactics during breaks, living up to his title as the "Sect Leader's Male Favorite".

The sect followers went from initial shock and disdain, to numbness and acceptance, and finally even began to secretly speculate that this Ling "wife" might be the true stabilizing anchor of the sect—after all, only he could make the terrifying new sect leader occasionally show emotional cracks nearly breaking through.

What a character!

In the martial arts world, terrifying rumors about An Yi had spread like wildfire, crossing the boundaries of good and evil, becoming almost mythical, ghostly tales.

The righteous martial artists who had retreated from the valley that day would all turn pale and speak incoherently when recalling the scene:

"...It wasn't martial arts! That was definitely not martial arts! It was sorcery! Immortal magic! He just raised his hand, and everyone was frozen! All internal energy lost!"

"Those who cursed him and that male favorite were struck by divine retribution on the spot! They screamed endlessly, acting like madmen, yet not a single wound was visible! Uncanny! Too uncanny!"

"Fuyi Sect's leader An Luyuan was stripped of power on the spot by his own son, and didn't dare to peep! Those elders and protectors knelt faster than anyone else!"

"He... he didn't look human at all! Cold as ice, powerful as a demon god! One look at him gave me nightmares for three days!"

These rumors grew more exaggerated and bizarre as they were passed from mouth to mouth.

Some claimed An Yi was a thousand-year-old ice snow spirit in human form, specializing in absorbing people's vitality.

Others said he had inherited an ancient demon god's power, and if angered could freeze a thousand miles.

Some swore they had seen him standing on a mountain peak under the moonlight, absorbing the essence of the sun and moon, surrounded by cold air, like a demon god descending into the mortal world.

The title of Fuyi Sect's demon cult Young Master was no longer mentioned; instead, it had been replaced by chilling titles like "Ice Demon" and "Frigid Lord".

The Western Fuyi Sect's main altar became an absolute forbidden ground in the eyes of the martial arts world; no one dared to set foot within its bounds, and even when talking about it, voices were lowered for fear that the demon god thousands of miles away would sense it and punish them.

In Chenxin Hall, Ling Fengyao occasionally heard these martial world rumors brought back by sect followers; he would always laugh uproariously, then vividly tell them to An Yi.

"...Hahaha, Ayi, they now say you're a three-headed, six-armed snow demon with green face and fangs! They also say if you look at someone, they'll turn into an ice sculpture!"

Ling Fengyao laughed so hard tears almost came out; he lay on An Yi's lap and looked up at him. "If they knew that the 'Ice Demon' they talk about is now being kissed by me, their 'male favorite', would they all keel over and die from shock?"

An Yi was flipping through a storybook. Upon hearing this, he lifted his gaze from the book and looked at Ling Fengyao's radiantly smiling face, his fingertips brushing through the other's stray strands of hair, his tone flat yet carrying a hint of indulgence: "Boring."

Ling Fengyao grabbed his fingers and kissed them, his peach blossom eyes curving. "How could it be boring? I find it extremely interesting."

He took the opportunity to sit up, then clingingly wrapped his arms around An Yi's waist, burying his face in his neck and nuzzling. "Anyway, whether you're human, demon, or monster, you're my Ayi."

An Yi put down the storybook and hugged him back, feeling the real warmth and heartbeat of the person in his arms.

Outside the hall there might be bloody storms, and the martial world might have fearsome rumors.

But here, only the warmth of this embrace is enough to comfort a lifetime.