He captured the base of her ear, and the warmth of his breath seemed to turn her entire being pink. Sang Dai’s eyes misted slightly. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt as though she couldn’t breathe.
Clinging to him tightly, she felt his lips trail downward, landing on her neck—her weak spot.
Every kiss Su Xuan placed on her neck made her shiver.
Every gentle bite made her unable to hold back a sound.
Both of them froze.
Sang Dai buried herself even deeper. If there had been a hole, she would have already crawled into it.
Had that sound really come from her?
Su Xuan didn’t move. She knew he was looking at her, which only made her even more embarrassed.
“You… Are you done? If you’re not kissing anymore, I’m going to sleep…”
Su Xuan was amused. His brows relaxed, and he hugged the sword cultivator, laughing so hard his shoulders shook.
Sang Dai smacked him hard. “Stop laughing! If you’re not kissing, I’m going to sleep!”
Her voice was fierce, like an angry little kitten.
Su Xuan lowered his voice and asked, “Miss Sang, can’t you tell? Do you think I’m done?”
At his words, Sang Dai’s attention fell to…
She was secretly shocked. After holding back for so long, hadn’t he resolved it yet? Wouldn’t his body suffer for it?
But the little fox leaned in and kissed her again.
Sang Dai instinctively hugged his neck tightly, curling into his arms like a frightened quail.
Su Xuan didn’t touch any other part of her, nor did he undo her clothes or kiss her lips. Sang Dai had only allowed him to kiss her ears and neck, and he complied, kissing only those places.
Perhaps it was because he was respecting her words, or maybe he feared that kissing elsewhere would push him past the point of no return.
For nearly half an hour, her entire body turned soft as water, relying solely on Su Xuan’s support to keep from falling. The little fox used his sharp teeth to leave faint marks on her earlobes and soft imprints on her neck.
They were very light, almost imperceptible, but he simply couldn’t control his strength completely.
With her awakened Heaven-grade spiritual root physique, those marks would fade by the next day. For this reason, Sang Dai didn’t stop him.
Before his rationality could fully collapse, Su Xuan decisively stopped. Pulling the quilt over her, he swiftly strode out of the room.
The door opened and closed again. Lying wrapped in the quilt, Sang Dai closed her eyes. Her ears and neck were damp and tingling from being kissed for so long. Her whole body felt as though it had absorbed his faint herbal scent.
She touched her face—it was scorching hot.
Tonight had felt far too overwhelming, far too intimate. For a moment, Sang Dai thought she was dreaming, and was startled to realize why she would have such a dream.
Turning on her side, she buried her face deep into the quilt. The blanket that both she and Su Xuan had shared was now filled with both their scents.
His breath and kisses seemed to still linger before her eyes. For the first time, Sang Dai faced a man’s desire for her, and this man was not only her former rival but also the one who loved her the most.
Sweating profusely under the quilt, she stubbornly refused to uncover herself, as if hiding inside could erase everything that had just happened.
She also knew what Su Xuan had gone to do. After kissing so much, even though he said “just a kiss” would make him feel better, by the end, Sang Dai could tell he was on the verge of exploding—his body so hot, his breath ragged and hoarse.
It clearly only made him feel worse. He had lied to her.
She waited for a long time, seemingly over an hour, but Su Xuan didn’t return.
These past two months with Su Xuan had given her a regular schedule. Sleepiness crept in, and just as she was dozing off, she vaguely sensed someone pushing the door open.
The intruder lifted the quilt with careful movements, and the other side of the bed sank as someone lay down, wrapping an arm around her waist.
In the past, Sang Dai would have awakened the moment someone approached the hall and stabbed them through with her sword.
But this time, before her inner alarms could fully go off, her first thought was:
This is the Beast Palace. The Beast Palace is safe. No one will harm me. No one will disturb me.
There are no endless enemies to resolve, no endless evils to exterminate.
Her back was pressed against a broad chest, and someone behind her encircled her entire body in an embrace. The faint scent of herbs mixed with a subtle coolness. She felt no moisture, but she knew the person behind her had just bathed.
Sang Dai murmured, “Su Xuan…”
“Mm, I’m here.” Su Xuan tightened his embrace and kissed the top of the sword cultivator’s head. “Sleep, I’m here.”
It’s Su Xuan.
Then everything was fine.
With Su Xuan there, no one would blame her for the matter with Ying Heng, barging into the back mountain to try and kill her. No one would wake her in the middle of the night to exorcise demons. She could always sleep soundly—a restful, undisturbed sleep.
Sang Dai let her guard down and drifted into a deep slumber.
Su Xuan held her in his arms, his tail appearing to cushion her head, softer than any pillow. The sword cultivator slept even more soundly.
He felt completely at ease.
Having her by his side, he felt at peace.
He had once thought he would die in that underground cavern, never imagining that what arrived before death was his sword cultivator.
From then on, he had fallen for her completely and irreversibly, never to have another nightmare again.
It felt as though, as long as he saw Sang Dai, he had endless courage to face anything.
“Dai Dai, I really like you.”
Her heart was opening up to him bit by bit, Su Xuan knew.
And sooner or later, she would open her heart fully, allowing him to settle inside it, never to leave again.
Because Su Xuan would never let Sang Dai down. As long as she gave him a chance, they could stay together for tens of thousands of years.
—
The next day.
Sang Dai woke up. Sang Dai sat up. Sang Dai fell silent.
The person beside her propped his head up, looking at her with a grin. “Good morning, wife.”
Sang Dai: “…Shut up.”
She slapped her hand over Su Xuan’s mouth, expressionless. “Forget everything that happened last night.”
Su Xuan kissed her palm.
Sang Dai yanked her hand back urgently, her face blushing uncontrollably. “Su Xuan!”
Su Xuan pointed to his head. “Sorry, my memory is too good.”
Sang Dai stammered, “C-Can’t you forget just once?”
Su Xuan was amused again, laughing loudly and freely.
Sang Dai smacked him. “Stop laughing, will you?”
“I won’t.”
“…Su Xuan, I’m begging you.”
Su Xuan covered his face, laughing uncontrollably. His shoulders trembled, and tears of laughter nearly welled up in the corners of his eyes.
Too cute, too cute, too cute!!!
She was absolutely, unbearably adorable!
Sitting up, he cupped Sang Dai’s flushed face. Her cheeks were burning, and Su Xuan smiled teasingly. “Miss Sang, your face is so hot it could fry a pancake.”
Sang Dai: “…I was just helping you last night.”
Su Xuan raised an eyebrow. “I know. I’m very grateful, Miss Sang.”
Sang Dai’s eyes lit up. “If you’re grateful, can you forget about it?”
Su Xuan scoffed and shook his head. “Nope, it’s already burned into my heart. Unless… you kill me.”
He tilted his head back, stretching out his neck. “Go ahead, kill me.”
Sang Dai: “…How would I kill you?”
“However you want.” Su Xuan glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and added with a smirk, “Of course, if you want to switch methods, that’s fine too. But I prefer this kind of ‘killing.’”
His gaze slid meaningfully to Sang Dai’s neck, the implication unmistakable.
Sang Dai: “…”
She understood. Su Xuan was suggesting she repay him in the same way he had treated her last night.
Without hesitation, Sang Dai flipped off the bed and marched toward the door. However, after taking just a few steps, she suddenly stopped and turned back.
The little fox was lying sideways on the bed, propping his head up. He tilted his head back lazily. “What’s this? Coming back to ‘kill’ me? Miss Sang, no need to hold back—do whatever you like—”
Before he could finish speaking, Sang Dai, face icy, landed a heavy slap on his shoulder.
A crisp, resounding slap.
“You—you—you’re shameless!”
Her face was bright red, clearly fuming.
Su Xuan froze in place as the little sword cultivator bolted.
Left alone in the empty main hall, Su Xuan sat there, momentarily stunned. He rubbed his shoulder where she had slapped him, then suddenly broke into laughter.
Laughing, he murmured to himself, “She’s small, but her strength isn’t.”
Lying back down on the bed, Su Xuan gazed at the luminous pearls hanging from the bed canopy.
He covered his eyes with one hand, but the corners of his lips stretched wider and wider.
Too cute. Absolutely, unbearably cute!
So, so, so cute!!!
An hour later, aboard the mustard seed boat.
Su Xuan looked across at Sang Dai, who was sitting as far away from him as possible.
He fell silent again.
The happier he had laughed this morning, the more suffocated he felt now.
Dragging his stool closer, he cleared his throat and said, “I’ve now completely forgotten everything from last night.”
Sang Dai opened her eyes, and their gazes met.
【Are you still mad? Pay attention to me, Dai Dai! Notice me, notice me, notice me!】
Sang Dai: “Can you move aside and go mind your own business?”
Su Xuan: “…I’m staying here. This is my mustard seed Boat.”
Sang Dai closed her eyes again, clearly wearing the expression of, “You can keep getting upset; I’ll keep cultivating.”
Su Xuan gritted his teeth, nearly wanting to bite this heartless girl.
Crossing his legs, he sat down next to her, sitting in the heat of his inner fire while looking out at the open window across from them.
The clouds outside were hazy, and the mustard seed Boat was gliding through the void.
Beyond the borders of the Beast Realm lay the Chunqiu Tower.
The Chunqiu Tower was located in the territory of the Beast Realm.
Sang Dai didn’t acknowledge him once, all the way until the mustard seed Boat landed. Su Xuan didn’t dare to get mad at her, so he could only stew in silence.
—
The Chunqiu Tower sat in the middle of a vast desert. The surrounding thousand-mile radius was nothing but dry, barren land, yet this solitary pavilion was established here.
Despite its name, the pavilion was more of a small city.
From a distance, one could see countless pavilions and lofty buildings rising and falling like waves, all interconnected by a sprawling corridor. The Chunqiu Tower was, in fact, composed of thousands of pavilions linked together, with a single passageway running straight through the entire structure.
The pavilion hadn’t originally been here; it had appeared suddenly a hundred years ago.
Its master, Qiu Chengxi, had come alone to this desert to build the pavilion. His extraordinary skill in mechanisms and formations made him famous overnight. Often assisting sects and clans with arrays and mechanisms, Qiu Chengxi had built a strong network of connections. After closing himself off for thirty years to cultivate, he recently emerged, breaking through to the Nascent Soul Stage at the early level.
To understand the significance—reaching the Nascent Soul Stage with a Mysterious-Grade Spiritual Root was exceedingly difficult. This was why Qiu Chengxi was throwing such a grand banquet, and notable figures from all four realms were attending.
However, Qiu Chengxi was peculiar. He had set a strict rule: only couples may enter. Anyone arriving alone could not enter the Chunqiu Tower; they had to remain outside—
Sang Dai glanced at the rows of tents set up outside the pavilion and sighed.
Even with such a bizarre rule, so many people were still willing to come, which spoke to Qiu Chengxi’s unmatched mechanical skills. Numerous sects and clans sought his craftsmanship to create mechanisms for their homes.
The real question was whether she and Su Xuan could get through unnoticed, especially since Su Xuan had once flattened the Chunqiu Tower.
As they approached the entrance, the line ahead was filled with couples. Sang Dai glanced at Su Xuan and noticed the little fox was calm and confident—as if certain they would be let in.
Arriving at the entrance together, they were inevitably stopped.
“Do the two of you have a marriage contract?”
A legal document like a marriage contract? Of course, they didn’t have one.
Sang Dai stammered, glancing at Su Xuan beside her.
He smiled openly and confidently. “Isn’t it enough to prove we’re lovers? My wife and I only held a wedding feast. Her body is too frail to endure my divine soul, so we haven’t formed a Twin-Soul Marriage Pact yet.”
The guard at the entrance nodded. “Beast King, you still need to provide proof.”
Recognizing Su Xuan’s identity was far too easy; many people in line had already realized who he was.
Seeing the woman standing beside Su Xuan, some people muttered quietly to themselves—so this was the Beast Queen, the one who had fireworks set off for her by the Beast King all night long.
Sang Dai: “……”
Su Xuan, however, took Sang Dai’s hand in his own. “They want us to prove it. My lady, how do you think we should prove it?”
Sang Dai: “……”
She repeatedly signaled to him with her eyes: I don’t know—figure it out yourself!
But Su Xuan pretended to be blind, ignoring her signals entirely. Instead, he said to himself, “Oh, so you mean like this.”
Sang Dai: “?”
Before she could react, Su Xuan leaned down and quickly kissed her on the cheek.
Sang Dai: “!!!”
Su Xuan straightened up, still holding her hand. “My lady, that should be enough.”