Crazy…
This is crazy…
Nanshan swore that the moment she realized what Ling Ye was doing, she had wanted to resist.
But they were pressed too close together, lips tangled too deeply, and somehow, her mind just stopped working.
Slowly, she was drawn into this strange yet novel experience.
To be honest, Ling Ye had no real technique.
At first, he merely imitated what he had seen others do before, and then he relied purely on instinct.
If not for Nanshan’s utter lack of experience in this matter, she wouldn’t have been left so utterly dazed by his kiss.
When the kiss ended, Ling Ye straightened slightly.
A thin, silvery thread of saliva connected them, stretching before breaking apart.
Their gazes met for a moment before both quickly looked away.
…Shouldn’t she slap him twice and curse at him, just to show she wasn’t a loose woman?
Nanshan thought she probably should.
But then she recalled how, near the end of the kiss, she had unconsciously leaned in to chase after his tongue… and suddenly, she wasn’t so confident anymore.
As she hesitated, the best opportunity to question him slipped away.
Silence enveloped the small boat, the only movement coming from the tiny glowing specks—manifestations of the spirits of the Three Realms—dancing in the night air.
Nanshan stole a few glances at Ling Ye.
The third time she was caught, she instinctively licked her swollen lips.
A sharp sting pricked her senses.
She froze.
Ling Ye also froze.
Their eyes met again before he nonchalantly said, “Let’s take it slow.”
“I wasn’t asking you to kiss me again!”
This time, Nanshan reacted quickly, immediately catching the underlying meaning in his words.
Ling Ye cast her a sidelong glance, his expression carrying a natural arrogance.
“Oh.”
Clearly, he didn’t believe her.
Nanshan took a deep breath, forcing herself to keep a straight face.
“Why did you kiss me just now?”
“Wasn’t it because you wanted me to?” he countered.
Nanshan’s eyes widened.
“When did I ever—”
“Just now,” Ling Ye stated matter-of-factly.
“You were staring at me like that. Obviously, you wanted me to kiss you.”
Nanshan: “…”
“I know I shouldn’t expose it outright and embarrass you,” Ling Ye’s lips were still red from their kiss, but his tone was serious, even righteous.
“But after thinking it over carefully, I decided it’s best to be direct. We’re about to get married. If you want something, just tell me. There’s no need to hide it, lest you suffer in silence when I fail to notice.”
Suffer in silence?
Hide it in her heart?
Why did he make it sound like she was some sort of shameless rogue?
Nanshan opened her mouth, then closed it again, suppressing the urge to tell him he was out of his mind.
But then, she suddenly remembered—this man had lived a life of ease, so delicate that even dropping a candied hawthorn could give him inner demons.
If she outright denied it, who knew how fragile he might become?
…Forget it.
Even if his logic was absurd, at least his actions were meant to “satisfy” her.
Besides, she still needed his help.
She couldn’t afford to sour their relationship too much.
Ling Ye took her silence as agreement.
His gaze softened as he pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve to hand to her, but before he could, she suddenly asked, “Ling Ye, can you do me a favor?”
He paused.
“What is it?”
Nanshan inhaled deeply and looked him straight in the eye.
“Can you teach me how to cultivate?”
Ling Ye: “Alright.”
Nanshan blinked.
“You’re not even going to ask why?”
Clearing his throat, Ling Ye looked away as if feigning indifference.
“In a few months, your spiritual bones will begin to form. If you willingly cultivate and nourish them with your own strength, it will save me some trouble in the future. It’s a good thing.”
“Thank you! You’re the best!”
Nanshan interrupted him, eyes gleaming.
“Then, then, can you teach me something easy to pick up? Something that’ll let me use the magic artifacts you gave me in just a few days?”
So, the reason she wanted to cultivate… was just to use his gifts?
Ling Ye turned his face away, revealing the faint redness creeping up his neck.
“You have innate spiritual bones. Reaching the level where you can use higher-grade artifacts is practically effortless for you.”
“Really?”
Nanshan’s eyes shone with hope.
“Come to the Nightless Pavilion first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Got it!”
Feeling that everything was going surprisingly smoothly, Nanshan was in high spirits.
She ran to the front of the boat and dipped her feet into the Yin-Yang River.
“Wait,” she hesitated, turning back.
Ling Ye, as if reading her thoughts, answered before she could ask.
“Yes, you can play in the water.”
Delighted, Nanshan quickly took off her shoes and socks, rolled up her pant legs, and carefully dipped her feet into the river.
Strange.
Though she could feel the coolness, there was no sensation of water flowing over her skin—almost as if she were soaking in a pool of air disguised as a river.
She wiggled her toes, and the cool air transformed into a gentle breeze, weaving around her legs.
Her pale, slender legs glowed against the river’s dim, ethereal light—more mesmerizing than the most breathtaking sights in the Yin-Yang River.
Ling Ye’s throat moved slightly.
A foreign emotion stirred deep within him, spreading through his veins like wildfire.
He stiffened, quickly turning his back to her, eyes tightly shut in an attempt to refocus his mind.
But the image of her legs only became clearer in his mind, and the lingering sting on his lips constantly reminded him of what had just transpired.
Sensing his unusual silence, Nanshan glanced back curiously—only to spot the redness creeping up his neck.
…Was he having an allergic reaction?
Wasn’t he the Young Lord of the Underworld?
How could he still suffer from allergies like a mere mortal?
Curiosity made her eyes linger on him.
After a few moments, Ling Ye finally turned back to face her.
Nanshan quickly straightened her back and blurted out, “There are some ointments in the mortal world that work really well, you know.”
Ling Ye: “?”
Completely baffled.
She just wanted to chat with him that badly?
His gaze landed on her slightly swollen lips.
After a long pause, he responded in an uncharacteristically soft voice.
“Alright.”
Though he had no idea what she was talking about.
Nanshan smiled, the dancing spirit lights reflecting in her eyes.
Ling Ye cleared his throat again and averted his gaze once more.
It was already past midnight when they finally returned.
Just as the familiar buildings came into view, Nanshan’s mind drifted back to the metaphorical sword hanging over her head—her current predicament.
She sighed.
Every time she left her room, she had to worry about that man suddenly appearing inside.
Ling Ye’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“You can come find me first thing tomorrow.”
Nanshan met his gaze, recalling his promise to teach her cultivation, and immediately perked up.
“Alright!”
Ling Ye saw how her mood shifted in an instant and, for some reason, his ears grew hot again.
He was certain—after tonight, she would become even more attached to him, even bolder in testing her limits.
But, as he had said before…
They were going to be married.
So, if she wanted to cling to him, she could.
Lost in thought, he suddenly reached out and ruffled her hair.
Nanshan blinked, stunned.
By the time she recovered, he was already walking away.
She stood rooted in place, staring after him in confusion.
…Why did he just pat her head?
After a brief silence, she suddenly reacted.
“Don’t you usually not talk while eating? What’s going on today?”
Ling Ye was slightly startled, turning his face away a bit stiffly.
Seeing him fall silent again, Nan Shan felt satisfied and focused on her meal.
Because she had shown up at Bu Ye Pavilion during mealtime, the kitchen had specially prepared two extra dishes.
Soon, the two of them had finished most of the food.
When the palace servants came to collect the bowls and chopsticks, they smiled kindly, looking just like old grandmothers enjoying the sight of their grandchildren eating well.
After the meal, it was time to begin training.
Nan Shan obediently followed behind Ling Ye as they stepped outside.
But the moment her foot crossed the courtyard’s boundary, the air around them twisted.
When it cleared, they found themselves atop a vast and empty mountain peak.
Looking at the expansive mountaintop and the thick mist swirling below, Nan Shan’s eyes widened in curiosity.
“This is…?”
“This is the Cultivation Platform,” Ling Ye said coolly.
“Since you’ve decided to train, we should do it properly.”
Nan Shan took a deep breath of the fresh, clear air, then happily ran a lap around the mountaintop before stopping, panting, in front of Ling Ye.
“Master!”
Ling Ye froze, staring at her for a long moment before asking, “…What did you just call me?”
“Master!”
Nan Shan tilted her head.
“Since we’re doing this properly, I should use the proper title. Master!”
Ling Ye’s ears instantly turned red.
“You—don’t call me that!”
The Underworld had a rather open culture, but seniority was taken very seriously.
A master was considered as important as a parent.
Her calling him “Master” was no different from calling him “Father”—especially after what had happened between them the night before.
It felt… utterly improper.
“Just call me Ling Ye, like before,” he corrected seriously.
“Whatever works. Let’s start.”
Nan Shan was indifferent.
“Last question—if I train properly, how soon can I use the artifacts you gave me?”
So she just wants to use the artifacts?
Ling Ye’s expression softened.
“With your innate spirit bone, the fastest would be three hours, the slowest two days, before you can wield high-tier artifacts. Anything above that will take longer.”
Two days at most…
That’s plenty of time!
Nan Shan, full of confidence, clapped her hands together.
“Alright, let’s begin!”
Ling Ye nodded.
“Cultivation is simply the process of attuning oneself to the natural flow of the world, absorbing and utilizing spiritual energy. Everything—grass, trees, flowers, stones—contains spiritual energy. Humans, especially, are rich in it. Start by closing your eyes, sinking your breath into your dantian, and sensing your own spiritual energy.”
“Got it!”
One quarter-hour passed…
Half an hour passed…
Most of the day passed…
At first, Ling Ye was very patient.
But as time dragged on, his face gradually darkened. If not for the genuine confusion on Nan Shan’s face, he would have thought she was messing with him.
As time ticked away, and Nan Shan still couldn’t grasp the basics, he finally couldn’t help but grab her wrist.
“What are you doing?”
Nan Shan jumped.
Ling Ye remained expressionless.
“Checking to see if you really have an innate spirit bone.”
Nan Shan: “…?”
Injecting a sliver of his divine sense into her wrist, he immediately felt the dense spiritual energy contained within her underdeveloped spirit bone.
He frowned and looked at her seriously.
“Why are you staring at me like that…?”
Nan Shan felt inexplicably guilty.
Ling Ye murmured, “This is the first time I’ve seen an innate spirit bone… with absolutely no cultivation aptitude.”
Nan Shan: “…You say that like you’ve seen plenty of innate spirit bones before.”
“Not many, but with you, I’ve now seen two,” Ling Ye admitted, his brows furrowing.
“But I’ve never seen one like yours.”
Nan Shan twitched her lips and yanked her hand back.
“Are you trying to tell me to give up?”
“You really aren’t suited for cultivation,” Ling Ye said calmly.
“Even the lowest-ranked sects in the mortal world require their outer disciples to at least sense their own spiritual energy. You can’t even do that.”
Lowest-ranked…
Outer disciples…
Basic requirement…
Nan Shan took a deep breath and glared at him.
“Just admit you don’t know how to teach, no need for so many excuses.”
“I’m not making excuses. I’m stating facts—”
Nan Shan scoffed, spun on her heel, and stomped away—only to realize moments later that she was still stuck on the mountain peak. Irritated, she turned back.
“Send me back to Cang Lan Palace!”
With a snap of Ling Ye’s fingers, the grand mountain peak melted away like snow, revealing the courtyard of Bu Ye Pavilion.
…That was impressive. Really damn impressive.
Nan Shan’s irritation only grew, and she stood stiffly in place.
After a moment of silence, Ling Ye finally realized she was angry.
His usually indifferent gaze flickered with confusion.
“You’ve never been passionate about cultivation. You only asked me to teach you on a whim. Why are you so upset?”
Nan Shan pressed her lips together but didn’t answer.
“You’re worried that once your spirit bone begins developing, you won’t be able to handle it?”
Ling Ye, unused to comforting people, awkwardly tried.
“You don’t need to worry. Since I promised to transfer spiritual energy to you, I won’t go back on my word.”
Nan Shan’s eye twitched.
“Can you transfer it now? Like… you give it to me, and I use it for the artifacts?”
“No.”
Ling Ye’s answer was immediate.
Nan Shan: “…”
“You can’t use my spiritual energy unless you first learn to absorb it,” Ling Ye explained patiently.
“Otherwise, it will just sit inside you, doing nothing but accelerating your spirit bone’s growth—which, at your current level, would be more harmful than helpful.”
Nan Shan let out a long sigh.
“Then how do I absorb it?”
“Start by sensing your own spiritual energy.”
Nan Shan: “…”
They had come full circle.
Ling Ye, still puzzled, was beginning to feel like something about her situation was fundamentally off—something he had overlooked.
“Let’s try again.”
Amid the silence, Nan Shan looked up at him, eyes filled with hope.
Ling Ye hesitated before lowering his gaze to meet hers.
“Just one more try,” she pleaded.
“Maybe I’ll get it this time?”
Ling Ye wanted to tell her that with her lack of aptitude, no amount of effort would change anything.
But when he saw her expectant expression, he relented.
“Alright.”
Innate spirit bones were universally recognized as divine gifts for cultivation.
Every text and record he had ever read stated that anyone born with one—even undeveloped—would far surpass their peers…
But none of them had ever mentioned an innate spirit bone belonging to a mere mortal.
In fact, as far as Ling Ye knew—
Nan Shan was the only mortal to ever possess one.
“Maybe your method of cultivation is different from others,” he said thoughtfully.
“Let’s try another approach. I’ll guide a thread of my spiritual energy through your meridians. Focus, and familiarize yourself with your own body’s structure.”
Nan Shan nodded enthusiastically.
For the next three days, she dedicated herself to training with Ling Ye.
Word spread, and soon, even Zhi Can had come to watch—only to witness the most ridiculous sight:
A so-called “genius” with an innate spirit bone… who had trained for three whole days… and still couldn’t sense her own spiritual energy.
By noon, after yet another failed attempt, Ling Ye invited her to lunch.
Nan Shan refused.
Collapsing onto the ground in frustration, she closed her eyes—only to feel a shadow looming over her.
She opened them and met Zhi Can’s amused gaze.
“What do you want?” she grumbled.
Zhi Can grinned.
“Why the sudden interest in cultivation?”
“Because I want to. Got a problem with that?”
“Not at all.”
He squatted beside her, smirking.
“But with your lack of talent, maybe you should consider… another method?”
Nan Shan frowned.
“What method?”
Zhi Can chuckled.
“Dual cultivation, of course.”
Nan Shan: “…?”