What began as pain would eventually be replaced by immense pleasure. Su Xuan’s fingers, jade-like and always neatly trimmed, moved with precision. As a member of the Nine-Tailed Fox clan born with Hellfire, his body radiated warmth. In contrast, Sang Dai’s was slightly cool, the differing temperatures making his presence especially vivid.
Sang Dai was always steady when wielding her sword, never retreating. Yet before the little fox, she instinctively arched her back as if to distance herself, only to be held firmly in place by him. She was so slender that Su Xuan could press her down with just one hand. The bed was lit by night pearls, which Sang Dai hadn’t noticed when they were placed. Their bright light, though expensive, illuminated every detail within the curtains.
This time, however, the little fox went a bit too far—completely unlike before. In the past, he had always restrained himself, never overstepping. Today, he ignored her words entirely, pinning the sword cultivator down so she couldn’t move. Sang Dai, who had never felt so helpless in her life, wished she could draw her sword and stab him. But she couldn’t bring herself to curse him, nor did she dare truly harm him. All she could do was let herself be held down by him.
When the night wind began to howl outside the window, Su Xuan finally relented out of pity, giving her time to recover. He held her close, softly comforting her and wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.
Su Xuan gently patted her shoulder, coaxing her, “Dai Dai, we’re about to get married. In a few days, you’ll be my wife. For the rest of my life, I’ll belong to you, and you can command me however you like.”
Sang Dai hesitated. “Su Xuan… I…”
She couldn’t help but feel afraid of his heat period. She had seen Su Xuan’s body and knew the terrifying nature of the Nine-Tailed Fox clan. Each time they were together, Su Xuan had intentionally held back, keeping things within limits she could handle. But she also knew he had not reached his full limits. Just now, when he overstepped slightly, she could barely endure it—what would happen when the little fox truly lost control?
The painful memory flashed through her mind. Her face paled as she softly suggested, “Su Xuan, maybe during that time… I could go to the Hehuan Sect to get some medicine…”
Su Xuan froze. “What kind of medicine?”
Sang Dai lowered her voice. “An aphrodisiac. Isn’t there one that helps open up the body…?”
She remembered hearing about it. With such medicine, she might be able to endure more and wouldn’t have to make Su Xuan repeatedly hold back for her sake. Sang Dai didn’t doubt that if she couldn’t handle it by then, Su Xuan would suppress himself through sheer force of will, even during his heat period—a feat she knew he couldn’t manage this year due to the Jiexin Grass exacerbating his condition.
The little fox understood her meaning and turned his head, laughing out of anger, his voice rising. “How could I possibly let you take something so harmful to your body?!”
Sang Dai quietly explained, “It’s not harmful. I’m an awakened Heaven-grade spiritual root.”
“Dai Dai.” Su Xuan sat up and held her in his arms, his gaze unusually complicated. “Why are you willing to wrong yourself for me?”
Sang Dai looked at him in confusion. “But I don’t feel wronged?”
Su Xuan pressed his lips together tightly. “But that is a form of self-sacrifice. You don’t need to turn to the Hehuan Sect for help because of me.”
Sang Dai didn’t know how to respond. “I… Su Xuan, no, that’s not it…”
“Last time, to help me detoxify, you endured so much pain without saying a word. If I hadn’t dispelled the barrier and seen your tears, what if I had gone through with it? And now, you’re even thinking of taking that kind of medicine for me. Why do you have to treat yourself like this?”
At a loss, Sang Dai hugged his neck tightly. “I… I just feel like I should be good to you…”
“The way you’re good to me shouldn’t be like this, Dai Dai. Just by having you by my side, I’m already very satisfied. I don’t need you to suffer for my sake. If you’re comfortable, tell me. If you’re in pain, tell me too. Your feelings are the most important.”
Su Xuan lightly kissed her red lips, staying close to her mouth as he asked, “I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you must answer honestly. No lying.”
Sang Dai nodded hesitantly. “Alright.”
She could see the seriousness in Su Xuan’s expression. He wasn’t joking at all.
“Dai Dai, do you truly enjoy being close to me, or is it just out of gratitude?”
He stared intently into her eyes, searching for any hint of reluctance but finding none.
Sang Dai simply nodded gently. “It’s not gratitude. I like it.”
“Not even a little unwilling?”
“Not at all. I really like it.”
Her honesty was striking. Su Xuan had always found Sang Dai’s straightforwardness to be almost unsettling—she never lied because even her lies couldn’t fool a fool.
The little fox finally felt reassured. Holding her waist, he asked, “When I treat you this way, do you feel uncomfortable? How do you feel?”
“Do I have to say it?”
“You have to. It’s important. If you don’t tell me, I’ll feel guilty and very upset.”
Sang Dai couldn’t bear to see the little fox upset.
She quickly replied, “I don’t feel uncomfortable.”
“And how does it feel?”
“It’s fine.”
“No dislike?”
“No, I don’t dislike it. I like you very much.”
Such honesty.
Su Xuan kissed her a few times and said, “Good girl.”
He had never met anyone so candid, her words always so pure and adorable. The little fox kissed her neck again. “Shall we continue?”
Sang Dai blushed and buried her face in his chest, nodding. The canopy curtains concealed everything within. Sang Dai suppressed her sounds, and later, the little fox asked her, “Can you endure for just a little while longer?”
She understood what Su Xuan meant. This was to prepare for their first proper time together. The Nine-Tailed Fox clan’s heat periods were notoriously intense, and as a single cultivator, it would be very hard for her to handle. Su Xuan always ensured her comfort first before tending to himself, just to minimize her discomfort.
Leaning against his shoulder, she nodded gently.
After the midnight hour had passed, the sword cultivator, breathing heavily, rested in his embrace. Su Xuan adored seeing her like this—her usual aloofness faded away, as if she had descended from the clouds into his arms. He could finally touch her, yet he worried about overwhelming her. He gently patted her shoulder.
After Sang Dai finally caught her breath, she didn’t feel like moving. She curled up in Su Xuan’s arms, letting him help her regulate her energy. The little fox couldn’t stop looking at her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear—mostly things that made her blush.
Sang Dai thought he was too noisy. She was exhausted and wanted to sleep, so she slapped him lightly, her strength so weak it felt like a tickle. “Shut up already!”
Su Xuan grinned shamelessly. “Our Dai Dai is so delicate. I didn’t even dare to be too rough. Luckily, I don’t use swords often, so my hands aren’t too coarse. Otherwise, how could I avoid hurting our precious Dai Dai?”
Sang Dai almost fell off him in frustration. She crawled to the other side of the bed, grabbed the quilt, and buried herself under it. “Su Xuan, I hate you! Get out of here! I want to sleep now!”
Su Xuan used a bit of force to pry open the quilt, then squeezed himself under it, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re fine now, but I’m still suffering.”
Sang Dai hit him. “Figure it out yourself!”
“No way, darling Dai Dai.”
“I don’t care about you… Su Xuan, don’t hug me!”
“Just for a little while, be good, alright?”
“You always say ‘just a little while’!”
Su Xuan seemed to have his own unique perception of time. His “little while” exceeded Sang Dai’s understanding. Under the quilt, the space was dark and cramped. Sang Dai had her back to him but could feel his body growing hotter and hotter.
Su Xuan leaned in and pressed against her, deliberately teasing, “Darling, aren’t you happy too?”
Sang Dai didn’t dare respond, wishing she could turn around and sew his mouth shut. Yet Su Xuan continued talking. “When we return to the Beast Realm the day after tomorrow, I’ll really take things all the way. By then, this mouth of yours will only know how to call my name.”
Sang Dai turned back to hit him. “Su Xuan, shut up already!”
He decided the quilt was too much of a hindrance and flung it off entirely. Her exposed back revealed the sharp protrusions of her butterfly-like shoulder blades—she was far too thin, her bones far too prominent. Su Xuan felt a pang of sorrow as he made a mental note to ensure she received more nourishment in the future. He hugged her tightly, kissing her shoulder. Sang Dai, desperate to be left alone to sleep, remained silent and let him do as he pleased.
It wasn’t until an hour later that everything was finally resolved. Sang Dai lay sprawled on the quilt, his outer robe draped over her. The dark fabric of the robe contrasted sharply against her pale skin. After wringing out a cloth to clean her, Su Xuan held her quietly, saying nothing. Only after a long while did he murmur hoarsely.
“Dai Dai.”
Sang Dai instinctively responded. “…Mm? What is it?”
Su Xuan, unabashed, said, “I don’t think it’s enough. When we get back, let’s get married and go to Zhenhua Crossing, alright?”
Sang Dai: “…”
She silently covered her ears.
Sometimes, she really thought Su Xuan would be better off mute. His mouth was simply too much.
—
Once Wu Hanshu’s funeral was completed, they prepared to depart for the Beast Realm.
Before they left, Shen Ciyu came to see them.
He glanced at Ying Heng, who had altered his appearance and stood behind Sang Dai. Even though Shen Ciyu recognized his identity, he didn’t acknowledge it in front of the others.
In the Four Realms, Ying Heng was considered a dead man. As long as they didn’t reveal his presence, no one would suspect the identity of the white-robed sword cultivator by Sang Dai’s side.
Su Xuan held Sang Dai’s hand as they prepared to leave. The little fox didn’t even glance at Shen Ciyu, keeping his face turned away the entire time.
Shen Ciyu didn’t take offense. He handed a jade token to Sang Dai. “I know it’s unlikely to be of use, but take it anyway. If you ever need help from the Sword Sect, you can use this token to contact them.”
Sang Dai was stunned. “I can’t—”
“It’s not for contacting me. This token connects directly to the Sword Sect’s Steward Hall. I won’t initiate contact with you, so you don’t need to worry.”
He had thought it through carefully; the token would connect her with the Sword Sect’s administration, not Shen Ciyu himself.
Since he put it this way, and Sang Dai had already agreed to be his friend, she could only accept it and thank him. “Thank you. If you ever need my help in the future, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Shen Ciyu nodded. “Alright.”
He watched as Sang Dai and the others left.
In truth, he knew this token would likely never be used. Sang Dai would never come to him for help.
Shen Ciyu looked up. It was a sunny day.
Everything was getting better.
—
Once they returned to the mustard seed boat, Ying Heng was picked up by Liu Lixue, and Sang Dai was pulled into a room by Su Xuan.
The little fox sat by the window.
Sang Dai noticed an invisible caption practically floating above him:
“Jealous, needs coaxing.”
She couldn’t help but laugh and sat down beside him, propping her chin up with her hand as she looked at him. “Do you smell vinegar?”
“Humph.”
“Such a big jar of vinegar—such a strong smell.”
“…”
The little fox turned to look at her. “Why does he keep coming to see you? Doesn’t he know about us?”
Sang Dai pinched his cheek with a smile. “He knows. He’s moved on. We’re just friends now.”
Su Xuan’s fur bristled as he stood up abruptly. “Friends? I couldn’t even manage to be your friend after over a hundred years, and he becomes your friend in just a few days?!”
Sang Dai covered her eyes, laughing uncontrollably.
Su Xuan became even more upset. “You’re laughing?!”
Sang Dai stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him lightly. “He’s just a normal friend. But you’re my…”
She kissed his throat.
“…husband.”
Husband.
Dai Dai called him her husband.
The little fox’s tails emerged, nine large, fluffy tails swaying back and forth like oversized brooms.
He was absolutely overjoyed.
Su Xuan sank back into the chair, pulling Sang Dai onto his lap.
Trying to suppress his grin, he said, “Tomorrow, come with me to visit my mother. Afterward, we’ll go to the Divine Healer Valley to ask about that little monster for Immortal Lord Ying Heng. Once everything in the Beast Realm is settled, we’ll bond.”
“Alright.”
“Bonding means this.” Su Xuan looked at her, his eyes bright. “My heat period will begin. For one month. I won’t stop midway.”
“…”
“Say something. Do you agree?”
Sang Dai wrapped her arms around his neck, meeting his gaze directly.
“I agree.”
She smiled brightly and kissed him.
“I agree, little fox.”